Drabbles written based on prompts from the Silmarillion Writers' Guild's February 2026 instadrabbling event. https://archiveofourown.org/works/79098601/chapters/207507536
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Prompt #1
quickening, somewhere, alive, well
The woods deepened as her pace quickened. Shadows flitted around darkened roots and dim boulders. Yet, there was something alive here as well. From the crawling of the ants over ancient tree trunks to the crooning of the thrushes from dark green canopies, life flared around Aredhel. It sang to her, beckoning her forward, so different from the shimmering grandeur of Gondolin. As the trees pressed around her, bursting with the chatter of unseen beings, she couldn’t help but crave to keep traveling through this strange place. This is what she had been yearning for, somewhere she could find life.
(drabble: 100 words)
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Prompt #2
There seemed a smell of autumn in the air
At the bleak end of night
Nellas leaned against the trunk, wood scraping her back. Her feet dangled from the tree limb as she watched crimson sketch the horizon. Night was ending, and so too her brief haven. Soon, the other elves would awaken from beneath their stone halls, and alone no longer would she be.
(half-drabble: 50 words)
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Prompt #3
you and I could wait and see
a single note don't make a melody
She visited out of shame at first. Her mind still couldn’t wrap itself around the horrors her husband and sons had committed. How could they have slaughtered the Teleri and robbed them of their treasured ships? How could they have continued their mad flight even after Mandos’ warning? And heaviest amongst her questions: how could Nerdanel herself dare to show her face to the people of Tirion, never mind Alqualondë, after these agonies?
So, the first time she visited Eärwen, it was out of shame.
“What do you want me to say?” Eärwen had asked. Although she held her head high, Nerdanel did not miss the tear marks that crept along her face. So, Nerdanel retreated.
The second time she visited, she came with no expectations and was surprised when Eärwen let her in. She spoke not of her own family, but instead asked after Eärwen’s.
“Let me tell you,” Eärwen murmured, and she did. She spoke of her father’s and people’s sorrow, but also of the beauty that was lost. The people who had sailed, swept, and repaired the ships. The sails that had caught the light at dawn. The pains that could not be so easily molded and reformed like the clay Nerdanel worked with.
So they parted not as friends, but as the beginnings of a new song to wait and see.
(double drabble and a quarter: 225 words)
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All credit to IdleLeaves for the lovely prompts.