In your own space, create a fanwork. A drabble, a ficlet, a podfic, or an icon, art or meta or a rec list. A picspam. Something.
I'm cheating a bit here. I've worked on my latest Teitho story today, but I'm not allowed to post snippets from it until the contest is over. I decided to post a drabble I wrote a few weeks ago and never got round to posting.
The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate. This story is written for pleasure not profit.
“The hands of the King are truly the hands of a healer!” said Ioreth. Aragorn was visiting the Houses of Healing, as was his custom. Ioreth watched the patients respond to his touch.
“How can it be otherwise?” said Arwen, who had accompanied her husband. “It is part of his very roots and bloodline. He is a child of Lúthien; raised and trained from childhood by my father, the greatest of healers. His mother told me that even as a child athelas responded to his touch.
“Our King is returned, back where he belongs,” said Ioreth. “We are blessed indeed.”