Daemags

chance meeting

a double drabble written for the SWG 7/4/2026 instadrabble session for the prompt: Memory, Song, Yet, Lost

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“Maglor?”

He turned, less in response to the name than in surprise at the sound of another voice—and one he knew, at that. Just down the hill a figure stood, dark and slender, expression as startled as he felt. “I’ve not heard that name in a long time,” Maglor said, as memories long buried rose in his mind—of bright songs and brighter laughter, of silver starlight on clear waters now lost to time and the ruin of war.

“Do you remember mine?”

“Of course, Daeron.”

They were a very long way from the nearest village. The wind blew through the grass atop the dunes, and in the distance seagulls called to one another. Daeron climbed the hill to join him, and they stood for a while just looking at one another. Neither of them had spoken to another person in a very long time, Maglor thought, and he did not know how to break that silence.

Finally, Daeron said, “It will rain later. Do you know where we can find shelter tonight?”

We, he had said. Maglor smiled. “Not yet—but maybe in those hills.” He held out his hand, and Daeron did not hesitate to take it.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Daeron/Maglor (Tolkien) Characters: Daeron (Tolkien), Maglor (Tolkien) Additional Tags: Fluff, Triple Drabble, Maglor Throughout History (Tolkien), Daeron throughout history, 1980s, Humor, Established Relationship Summary:

“What did you do to your hair?”

(also on the SWG)

annarobots

Dibbly Fresh, an Elfling-Sitters Club Story

Need an elfling-sitter? Save time! Call The Elfling-Sitters Club and reach seven six experienced sitters. Fingon, President Daeron, Vice-President Pengolodh, Secretary Finrod, Treasurer Maglor, Alternate Officer Salgant, Snack Officer Daeron has an important question to ask Maglor. And no, it’s not “can I get some more art supplies for my Kid-Kit?”

Written for the @silmarillionwritersguild June 2026 Epic 80s challenge. Daeron/Maglor, General, 1.8k, No Archive Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - Baby-Sitters Club Fusion, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Teen Romance, Fluff and Humor.

read on ao3 | read on swg

malivana

When I'm sad or bored, I draw daemags, so yes, more sad minstrels

Daeron's proportions are always different in my drawings, but I'll just pretend it's the way it should be.

malivana

Daemags daemags I love them

And also Lindir, because the idea of Lindir as a child of daemags seemed too tempting and won't let me go

holy-marmalade

Crablor the nap guardian for @crablorday ♡ He will pinch you if you try to wake them. Featuring jackalope!Daeron and a little Arwen who has found that her older strange relatives make for much better companions for playing and sleeping than all the adults in her life.

nightmares-2

Made a smol daemags, might or might not finish

Courage of the Trembling Tongue

a double drabble written for the 5/2/26 SWG instadrabble session for the prompt: Let mine be the courage / of the trembling tongue / that confesses its true need

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Passing headlights sweep across the wall, yellow and striped through the blinds. In the distance a siren wails, and in the dark, quiet hotel room they lie facing each other, each curled toward the other like parentheses, with thousands of years of history tucked between them. Daeron is tired. He long ago stopped counting the years, stopped counting these encounters—whether they end in tears or in blows or in bed. All he really knows is that they end, just like everything else, and he is tired.

Maglor reaches out to brush strands of hair away from his forehead. Daeron still wears it long; Maglor’s is different every time they see each other, curled or straight or in today’s case, long and dyed a bright rainbow of colors. “I missed you,” Maglor whispers. “Where are you going next?”

“I don’t know.”

There’s a hesitation. Then, Maglor says, “What if you came home with me?”

Daeron catches his hand, laces their fingers together. Someone is playing music in a nearby room, just loud enough that the strains of a waltz are recognizable. He’s so tired, and he wants. “Do you have one of those?”

“Well—no. But we could make one.”

Hi! For the Mary Oliver prompts, #23 and daemags?

Thank you for the prompt! <3

23. You are breathing patiently; it is a beautiful sound. It is your life, which is so close to my own that I would not know where to drop the knife of separation.

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There were many fronts to the war against the Dark Tower of Mordor. As the armies of the West marched on the Black Gate, Sauron’s servants in the east were left to their own devices—and the resistance was fierce and ever-growing. An alliance of Elves and Men met the forces of Mordor and its allies in battle on the plains of Khand, and won the day.

Daeron was not on the field. Maglor was—he had led the cavalry charge, his mighty voice echoing over the din of battle—only to fall at the last, just before the battle turned to a rout. When they brought him back from the field, he was barely breathing.

That was days ago. Daeron had not left his side since, watching the rise and fall of his chest and waiting. The healers all spoke encouraging words, but Daeron could not rest until Maglor woke, until he could look into his eyes and see his smile, hear his voice telling him not to be stupid and to get some sleep.

Finally, just as something shifted in the air—like the world was breathing a great sigh of relief as Sauron was at last utterly destroyed—Maglor opened his eyes. “Daeron...?” he whispered.

“I’m here.” Daeron caught his hand and kissed his palm, and then his cheeks and his mouth. Relief made tears sting his eyes. “It’s over, Maglor. We made it. It’s over.”

Maglor’s smile was tired but warm. “I knew we would.”

malivana

Orodreth and mountains just because I thought it was funny, and also daemags(?is that what this ship is called?) because I love this ship, and a small sketch of Feanor with a medallion that shows Nerdanel(He misses his wife)

More daemags(+maglor with horses)

New Songs

a drabble-and-a-half written for the 6/6/2026 SWG Instadrabble session for the prompts: I pull your body over me / Like a roof, mistake / Your drumming heart / For rain and All the meaningless and empty words / I spoke, I spoke, I spoke

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They had both once been famed for their silver tongues, their quick wit and fair voices. Daeron remembered the satisfaction of cleverness, and the thrill of moving an audience to tears—but he had long ago emptied himself of words with anything real to say. Now all his songs were just repetitions of lamentations, all meaning lost by now. There was nothing new to say about grief or loneliness.

When he spoke those words aloud, Maglor just hummed quiet agreement, and rolled over, blanketing Daeron with his body, heart to heart. Outside their small shelter it was raining, the drumming on the leaves keeping time with their heartbeats. In the distance thunder rumbled, an almost gentle sound. “So let’s not sing about those things anymore,” Maglor whispered, breath ghosting over Daeron’s ear, making him shiver. “Let’s find something new.”

The next song Daeron sang was of storm clouds and rainbows.