ost_in_edhil | Recent Entries

This LJ is a small repository of stories and ficlets which will hopefully become part of my planned novel, Eregion, something of a James Michener-meets-Middle-earth family saga. Some stuff is public, some isn't. Due to the heretical nature of the material, keys of the city are given to those who are familiar with the pandemoniverse, in particular, Trinity, The Apprentice, Cat's Paws, Broken Star, and Risk Assessment. There will be a quiz. ;^) Also keep in mind that some spoilers for The Elendilmir are contained therein, too.

To hear my opinionated nattering on OFCs in Tolkien fandom, please see (and listen to) this Podcast in which

spiced_wine "interviews" me.

This is something of a testing ground for the next stage of the Pandë!verse. The inspiration is complex, and includes the peculiar confluence in my mind of American Prometheus (the J. Robert Oppenheimer biography) and Tolkien's legendarium.

( Read on... )

Crack fic ahoy! Be forewarmed this jumps way, way, way ahead in the Pandë!verse. It's far from complete, full of nits, subject to revision, and it will a) open up a can of worms and b) leave folks guessing. I'm so bad.

By way of background, and I have sort of hinted at it in Trinity, the Valar don’t want to allow certain penitents to wander around their “paradise” in freedom, so they find a loophole of sorts that will allow them to live free lives, but the price of that freedom is mortality.

If you've read Trinity, you'll know who Professor Rosen is. As for "Caleb Dotawin"? I'm still undecided on whether that will be the last word for that surname but it's sort of phonetic from dóiteáin, Gaelic for "of fire". Caleb doesn't translate to anything like "Silver Fist" though.

I owe a debt of gratitude to

jael_beruthiel and her Not Fade Away 'verse which reinforced my crazy ambition that I had at the very beginning of writing my fan fic to take the story arc all the way to contemporary times.

Thanks to the intrepid mollusk-hunters of the Bad Clam for comments and for indulging me.

( The Name of the Game )

A venerated Lizard's comment in response to a bit in How the East Was Won prompted this brain worm that demanded to be exorcised. I don't know what exactly I'm going to do with this (and it is not complete if that is not apparent), and I am being cryptic as to whom the narrator might be recounting the short tale and when he might be recounting it. The events he describes take place before the Valar enter Arda, that is, our Solar System according to JRRT in HoMe X.

Be forewarned that it's pretty far out on the edge of my alternate universe/history in which neither the Valar nor the Maiar are divine/angelic beings although with their unusual characteristics and immense powers, they appear to be so to the Children of Iluvátar. Also to be considered is that the Ainulindalë is a creation myth and thus highly subject to interpretation. Please see Chosen and Ulmo's Wife for other stories deriving from this era of the Pandë!verse.

Many thanks to my pals on the Lizard Council for comments, critique and encouragement.

As a backdrop, here is the excerpt from How the East Was Won that prompted Lizardly curiosity:

Nothing was more important to him than control. In a remote time and place, he had been safe and loved, but that security had been shattered into fragments. He had witnessed the horrific deaths of those he had loved and who had loved him in turn, but he had survived because of an innate talent, one that the Valar had noticed, they who had been indirectly responsible for breaking his life into shards. The Guardians had taken him – young, confused and reeling from his loss – into their fosterage and made him into what he was. But the vision of that split second when the order of his world disintegrated had never left him. Nightmares of the horrible scene haunted him, and even since then, he struggled to gain control over his life and the world around him. He glanced at the pile of cushions again -- none of them out of place -- and imagined a life of servitude in Aman where every moment of his existence would under the exacting control and surveillance of others. He could not bear the thought.

( Light Over the Mountain )

Written in response to

telperion1's prompt inspired by finding a Canadian coin:

...in Middle-earth it really might be a sign of hope. Imagine what Faramir would have thought on seeing a Haradric coin in the Ithilien marketplace. Or so many other markets besides. Some were perhaps not so happy. (I can imagine Barliman being a bit frustrated to see he'd taken in an Isengard silverpiece by mistake, worth a lot less after Saruman's fall...)

Actually, that might make for some neat fic. Write a drabble or whatever where people find foreign coins - the rest is up to you. I'd love to read it.

Although I should be working on the Probably AU GenFic Challenge, this was irresistible because it fits in with events in the Pandë!verse during the late Third Age. And holy moly! I'm writing hobbits here. Hobbits for Pete's sake! Some text poached from The Fellowship of the Ring might be recognizable at the very beginning of this little piece.

( Ficlet of a little over 300 words below the cut )

Here's another collaborative effort between

surgicalsteel and myself. This follows Birdsong below and ties into the most recent events concerning Serindë, Halbarad and friends and family on

surgsteelfic where this fic is cross-posted. A few folks who stumble across this little backwater of mine have already read this, but I figured I'd tack it on here, too, for posterity.

Thanks a million for sharing the sandbox, Steel!

( Fic below the cut )

An early birthday fic for

surgicalsteel. This story is heavily inspired by the recent events in Minas Tirith as depicted in the Happy!AU-in-which-Halbarad Lives series now playing on

surgsteelfic, e.g., Penetrating Abdominal Trauma through the most recent chapter Breakdown.

My utmost gratitude goes to Steel for letting me gleefully play in her Tolkienian sandbox, for so richly feeding my Dark Muse (who isn't wholly dark :^)) and for being such a good friend.

~~~~~~~

Galdor's earlier than expected arrival in Imladris surprises Mélamírë. He bears both good and bad news, the latter of which troubles Mélamírë deeply, but the arrival of another guest -- a certain wizard with an affinity for birds and beasts and a hankering for lentil pancakes with spicy potatoes -- offers a way to help her suffering friend.

Warnings for language, a bit of bawdiness on Galdor's part (would you expect any less?), a certain degree of "spoilers" for The Elendilmir and a reference to a very dark time in the Shire that traumatized a young hobbit-boy.

( Birdsong )

Follows right on the heels of

surgicalsteel's Gumbo which resides on

surgsteelfic. Many thanks to Steel for finding niggles, a biographical sketch of Ivrineth, and all round mutually enthusiastic yammering. :^)

Ivrineth, the midwife recommended by Serindë, and Mélamírë get to know one another a bit better.

( Story below the cut )

Cross-posted from

surgsteelfic. :^) More tennis ball lobbing.

Ivrineth began as a character that Mélamírë's spouse used to threaten her with when she tried to escape strict bed rest toward the latter stages of what would be considered today to be a high-risk pregnancy; this draft is under lock and key in the vaults of the Mirdain for the time being while I continue to develop the Pandë!verse.

Steel has fleshed out this character's back story which made me squee vigorously. Here in her "Examination," we meet Ivrineth.

So without further adieu, here's Steel:

This is I suppose a sequel of sorts to Pandemonium's The Good Broideress, which was her birthday present for me. In that story, a mortal surgeon and an elven smith meet for the first time when the smith has an injury which requires treatment. In this one, the smith returns for medical care of a different sort. Occurs almost immediately after Serindë's return to Minas Tirith following the cessation of hostilities with Mordor.

Warnings for Serindë's usual bad language. ;)

( Read on... )

Here's another tennis ball lobbed back in reponse to Kindness Repaid on

surgsteelfic Many thanks to

surgicalsteel for allowing me to borrow Serindë, for writing Serindë's fearful soliloquy, and all 'round instigation. :^)

( fic below the cut )

whitewave16 compared

surgicalsteel's and my crossover fics to a duet or a tennis match. Here's what Steel lobbed back in response to my Kindness of Strangers which is under f-lock for the moment to avoid spoilers for those who don't care to take a guess about certain aspects and characters of my story arc or those upon whom I have not yet inflicted my mad notions.

Kindness Repaid.

Needless to say, my dark muse is wildly flattered by his accurate portrayal in this entertaining and provocative short story. Kindness Repaid is also a sequel to Steel's Survivors of the Downfall, a most satisfying account of the aftermath of the downfall of Númenor which gives a nod to the realities behind "Mannish myths."

Here's what

surgicalsteel and I hope will the first of a series of conversations between our OFCs -- the surgeon Serindë (see

surgsteelfic and The Last Ship) and Mélamírë, my elven-smith. This derives from Steel's Happy!AU (in which Halbarad lives) and the unceasingly heretical Pandë!verse.

The different fates of Men and Elves were the focus of the discussion between Andreth and Finrod. By way of contrast, although Serindë and Mélamírë's "fates" diverge due to their nature, they also find they have much in common through their conversations that range from the light-hearted (and sometimes bawdy) to more grave matters.

Synopsis: In the spring of 3020 of the Third Age, Mélamírë and her family bring gifts to Serindë and Halbarad on the occasion of the birth of their third child, Lalaith. One of Mélamírë's gifts raises eyebrows "up to the hairline" as Serindë might say. Rated -- oh, I'd say PG-13.

( Athrabeth Serindë ah Mélamírë: The Gift )

For Surgical Steel's birthday. Two women -- a mortal and an elf -- meet for the first time when the elven-smith sustains an injury which the mortal surgeon then treats. In spite of differences between their peoples, the two women gain an appreciation for one another.

Warning for a couple of salty expletives from the elven-smith and for a medical examination (nothing graphic).

MEFA09 2nd CC