anna ☆ 20s ☆ pnw ☆ they/them ☆ tolkien + personal ☆ hopeless aromantic ☆ follow for more soft pastel legolas ☆ starlightwalking on ao3 ☆ icon by @princess-faelivrin
"The Death of Théodred" by photographer Lillian Liu
First image:
This is our version of the fallen Prince Theodred on his funeral bier, the last of his house. He met his untimely death after holding the mustered forces of Isengard at bay so they could not cross the Fords of Isen into a weakened Rohan. The battle being a phyrric victory in many ways with too high of a cost, his father King Theoden was then left to bury his only son among the wild Simbelmynë flowers (and thus seeing the end of his line with his own eyes). I am absolutely enamoured with @fellandfair ‘s immaculate attention to detail with costuming, making visuals both believable and rooted in realistic inspiration. It is no small effort to put together a shoot ever- and the team included: @posewigs , who made the hair look incredible, @ian__campbell, who lay uncomfortably on a bier with lumpy shields under his back to model for us, @vkngjewelry ‘s beautiful jewelry to give us that extra bit of detail, and many others to be seen in future images.
Second image:
Theodred’s funeral in Tolkien’s universe only serves to highlight the oppressive sense of futility hovering above Rohan during the time of The Lord of the Rings. A land with a weakened king held captive as a puppet, plagued constantly with fearsome raids from the enemy, with the only crown prince and heir falling in a battle intended to wipe out their numbers and morale...the sun would have seemingly set on the people during such a time. And yet, Tolkien shows us that goodness prevails even in times of madness and senseless evil.
Here, we have a mourning party depicted- with a mourner central in the scene preparing the body. I feel like she represents the common people of the land. What other characters do you see?
Third image:
Here, in our vision of his funeral, Eomer says a final farewell to Theodred before the burial. Simbelmyne here is also pictured growing from the grass, as it was a flower often found on the tombs of Rohirric kings. The flower itself refers to the legacy and memories of those who have passed.
Growing up together, the late prince loved his cousin Eomer as a true brother...and although there isn’t too much about Theodred as a character written by the great Tolkien (as the character was already dead during the time of The Lord of the Rings), many inferences can be made about his life and relationships.
What the Valar Look Like, Part II: Vestures of Purpose
a meta written for @esotolkienweek, Day 5: Art. in line with esoteric’s meaning of “intended for or likely to be understood by only a small number of people with a specialized knowledge or interest,” this is definitely something for a small audience...I hope it finds those who can use it!
Part I: Fanar, the Shape and the Raiment
These fanar were, however, also personal expression (in terms suitable to the apprehension of the Incarnate) of their individual ‘natures’ and functions, and were usually also clad in vestures of similar purpose.”
—Parda Eldalamberon No.17
Part I was a meta establishing what a fana is and how fanar work.
In this post (Part II), I will share a collection of quotes from a variety of sources describing the canonical appearances of the Valar, broken down by each individual Vala. Some of these descriptions will be rather tenuous, vague, or downright countercanonical given their place early in the timeline of the Legendarium’s development, but all will be at least somewhat connected to the Valar and their aesthetics. Then I will give a brief description of my headcanons of what the Valar look like. I’ll also link to any visual depictions I have made of the Valar.
Speaking of, here are a few to start you off...
Visual depictions I have made of all (or several of) the Valar:
Servants of the Valar (graphic; 2025)
The Valar & the Orixás (graphic; 2022)
Mansions of the Valar (graphic; 2021)
~~~
MANWË
His raiment is blue, and blue is the fire of his eyes, and his sceptre is of sapphire, which the Noldor wrought for him.
—The Silmarillion, “Of the Beginning of Days”
Lo, Manwë Súlimo clad in sapphires, ruler of the airs and wind, is held lord of Gods and Elves and Men, and the greatest bulwark against the evil of Melko.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Music of the Ainur”
But when the great Gods and all their folk were armed, then Manwë climbed into his blue chariot whose three horses were the whitest that roamed in Oromë’s domain, and his hand bore a great white bow that would shoot an arrow like a gust of wind across the widest seas.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Chaining of Melko”
Now is a court set upon the slopes of Taniquetil and Melko arraigned before all the Vali great and small, lying bound before the silver chair of Manwë.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Chaining of Melko”
But those of the Noldoli whom Aulë had most deeply taught laboured in secret unceasingly, and of Aulë they had wealth of metals and of stones and marbles, and of the leave of the Valar much store too was granted to them of the radiance of Kulullin and of Telimpë held in hidden bowls. Starlight they had of Varda and strands of the bluest ilwë Manwë gave them; water of the most limpid pools in that creek of Kôr, and crystal drops from all the sparkling founts in the courts of Valmar.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Coming of the Elves and the Making of Kôr”
Sapphires in great [?wonder] were given to Manwë and his raiment was crusted with them...
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Coming of the Elves and the Making of Kôr”
Now this babe was of greatest beauty; his skin of a shining white and his eyes of a blue surpassing that of the sky in southern lands—bluer than the sapphires of the raiment of Manwë and the envy of Meglin was deep at his birth, but the joy of Turgon and all the people very great indeed.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part Two, “The Fall of Gondolin”
Of that last battle of the upland heath whose roof is the wide sky—nor was there any other place beneath the blue folds of Manwë’s robe so nigh the heavens or so broadly and so well encanopied—what grievous things I saw I have told.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part Two, “The History of Eriol or Ælfwine”
My personal image of Manwë is of a tall, pale, thin, birdlike figure; he is partially concealed by clouds and feathers, but his eyes are a bright, piercing blue.
Visual depictions of I have made of Manwë:
Manwë & Melkor (graphic; 2025)
Manwë (graphic; 2020)
~
VARDA
Too great is her beauty to be declared in the words of Men or of Elves; for the light of Ilúvatar lives still in her face. In light is her power and her joy.
—The Silmarillion, “Valaquenta”
With Manwë dwelt Varda the most beautiful...
—The Silmarillion, “Of the Beginning of Days”
Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear!
O Queen beyond the Western Seas!
O light to us that wander here
Amid the world of woven trees!
Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!
Clear are thy eyes and bright thy breath!
Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee
In a far land beyond the sea.
O Stars that in the Sunless Year
With shining hand by her were sown,
In windy fields now bright and clear
We see your silver blossom blown!
O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees,
Thy starlight on the Western Seas.
—Song to Elbereth, final version (The Fellowship of the Ring, “Three’s Company”)
(I highly recommend listening to Adele McAllister’s rendition of this song!)
O Stars that in the Sunless Year
Were kindled by her silver hand,
That under Night the shade of Fear
Should fly like shadow from the land!
O Elbereth! Gilthonieth!
Clear are thy eyes, and cold thy breath!
—Song to Elbereth, excerpt from draft version (The Return of the Shadow, “From Hobbiton to the Woody End”)
Varda it was who at the playing of the Music had thought much of light that was of white and silver, and of stars...
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Music of the Ainur”
There Bredhil the Blessed the bluemantled,
the Lady of the heights as lovely as the snow
in lights gleaming, of the legions of the stars,
the cold immortal Queen of mountains,
too fair and terrible too far and high
for mortal eyes, in Manwë's court...
—Lays of Beleriand, “The Flight of the Noldoli from Valinor,” vv. 45-50
With him was Varda the most beautiful. Now the Ainur that came into the world took shape and form, such even as have the Children of Ilúvatar who were born of the world; but their shape and form is greater and more lovely and it comes of the knowledge and desire of the substance of the world rather than of that substance itself, and it cannot always be perceived, though they be present. And some of them, therefore, took form and temper as of female, and some as of male. But Varda was the Queen of the Valar, and was the spouse of Manwë; and she wrought the stars, and her beauty is high and aweful, and she is named in reverence.
—The Lost Road and Other Writings, “Ainulindalë”
And Manwe and Ulmo and Aule were as Kings; but Varda was the Queen of the Valar, and the spouse of Manwe, and her beauty was high and terrible and of great reverence.
—Morgoth’s Ring, “The Music of the Ainur and the Coming of the Valar”
The hands of Varda/Elbereth were like all her fana of shining white.
—Parma Eldalambaron No. 17
Her hands are thus compared poetically in “Galadriel’s Lament” to clouds — white and shining still above the rising darkness that swiftly engulfed the shores and the mountains, and at last her own majestic figure upon the summit of Oiolassë.
—Parma Eldalambaron No. 17
Fanuilos was thus a title of, or second name for Elebereth, made after the coming of the Exiles, and conveyed in full some such meaning as “bright angelic figure, far away upon Uilos (= Oiolassë),” or “— angelic figure ever-snow-white (shining afar).”
—Parma Eldalambaron No. 17
Though Varda is described as white, pale, and shining, in my mind she has always had skin as dark as the night sky, dotted with gleaming white stars. Perhaps the stars are so thick upon her skin that she appears to shine white. I imagine her hair as long and dark, also speckled with stars.
Visual depictions of I have made of Varda:
Varda (graphic; 2020)
this one is actually of Ilmarë, but shares a lot of the same aesthetics (graphic; 2020)
~
AULË
Now Kôr is lit with this wealth of gems and sparkles most marvellously, and all the kindred of the Eldalië are made rich in their loveliness by the generosity of the Noldoli, and the Gods’ desire of their beauty is sated to the full. Sapphires in great [?wonder] were given to Manwë and his raiment was crusted with them, and Oromë had a belt of emeralds, but Yavanna loved all the gems, and Aulë’s delight was in diamonds and amethysts.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor”
Aulë
A word aulë ‘shaggy’ is given in QL as a derivative from a root owo (whence also oa ‘wool’, uë ‘fleece’), but without any indication that this is to be connected with the name of the Vala.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “Appendix: Names in the Lost Tales — Part I”
We have very little information about Aulë’s appearance. In my mind, he takes the shape of a dwarf! A large dwarf, taller than an elf, but dwarflike in proportions and certainly with a beard, thick and fiery (perhaps made of actual fire!). His eyes are made of glowing orange fire: warm and gentle, most of the time, but fierce when angered.
Visual depictions of I have made of Aulë:
Aulë & Mahtan (graphic; 2026)
Ace Aulë (moodboard with picrew; 2023)
Aulë (graphic; 2020)
~
YAVANNA
In the form of a woman she is tall, and robed in green; but at times she takes other shapes. Some there are who have seen her standing like a tree under heaven, crowned with the Sun; and from all its branches there spilled a golden dew upon the barren earth, and it grew green with corn; but the roots of the tree were in the waters of Ulmo, and the winds of Manwë spoke in its leaves.
—The Silmarillion, “Valaquenta”
Then sorrowfully Yavanna stood upon the plain and her form trembled and her face was very pale for the greatness of the effort that her being put forth, striving against fate.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Tale of the Sun and Moon”
But think not, Ælfwine, that the shapes wherein the Great Ones array themselves are at all times like unto the shapes of kings and queens of the Children of Iluvatar; for at whiles they may clothe them in their own thought, made visible in forms terrible and wonderful. And I myself, long years agone, in the land of the Valar have seen Yavanna in the likeness of a Tree; and the beauty and majesty of that form could not be told in words, not unless all the things that grow in the earth, from the least unto the greatest, should sing in choir together, making unto their queen an offering of song to be laid before the throne of Iluvatar.
—Morgoth’s Ring, “Ainulindalë C”
So Yavanna is a known shapeshifter. I think she probably has several ‘Eldarin’ forms as well: one more elven, with curly brown hair and warm brown skin with subtle green undertones; and one more eldritch, with skin like bark, hair like willow branches, and slit cat-eyes, complete with claws and fangs.
Visual depictions of I have made of Yavanna:
The Isle of Almaran (graphic; ft. Yavanna; 2026)
Yavanna (graphic; 2023)
Yavanna (graphic; 2019)
~
ULMO
Moreover he does not love to walk upon land, and will seldom clothe himself in a body after the manner of his peers. If the Children of Eru beheld him they were filled with a great dread; for the arising of the King of the Sea was terrible, as a mounting wave that strides to the land, with dark helm foam-crested and raiment of mail shimmering from silver down into shadows of green. The trumpets of Manwë are loud, but Ulmo's voice is deep as the deeps of the ocean which he only has seen.
—The Silmarillion, “Valaquenta”
And the wave came towards him, and upon it lay a mist of shadow. Then suddenly as it drew near it curled, and broke, and rushed forward in long arms of foam; but where it had broken there stood dark against the rising storm a living shape of great height and majesty. Then Tuor bowed in reverence, for it seemed to him that he beheld a mighty king. A tall crown he wore like silver, from which his long hair fell down as foam glimmering in the dusk and as he cast back the grey mantle that hung about him like a mist, behold! he was clad in a gleaming coat, close-fitted as the mail of mighty fish, and in a kirtle of deep green that flashed and flickered with sea-fire as he strode slowly towards the land. In this manner the Dweller of the Deep, whom the Noldor name Ulmo, Lord of Waters, showed himself to Tuor son of Huor of the House of Hador beneath Vinyamar. He set no foot upon the shore, but standing knee-deep in the shadowy sea he spoke to Tuor, and then for the light of his eyes and for the sound of his deep voice that came as it seemed from the foundations of the world, fear fell upon Tuor and he cast himself down upon the sand.
—Unfinished Tales, “The Fall of Gondolin”
Then it seemed to Tuor that Ulmo parted his grey mantle...
—Unfinished Tales, “The Fall of Gondolin”
And as Ulmo said these things the mutter of the storm rose to a great cry, and the wind mounted, and the sky grew black; and the mantle of the Lord of Waters streamed out like a flying cloud.
—Unfinished Tales, “The Fall of Gondolin”
Then there was a noise of thunder, and lightning flared over the sea; and Tuor beheld Ulmo standing among the waves as a tower of silver flickering with darting flames; and he cried against the wind...
—Unfinished Tales, “The Fall of Gondolin”
...more striking than the portrayal of the god Ulmo as originally seen, sitting among the reeds and making music at twilight by the river Sirion, but many years later the lord of all the waters of the world rises out of the great storm of the sea at Vinyamar. Ulmo does indeed stand at the centre of the great myth. With Valinor largely opposed to him, the great God nonetheless mysteriously achieves his end.
—The Fall of Gondolin, “Preface”
...and his car was drawn by narwhal and sealion and was in fashion like a whale; and amidst the sounding of great conches he sped from Ulmonan. So great was the speed of his going that in days, and not in years without count as might be thought, he reached the mouth of the river. Up this his car might not fare without hurt to its water and its banks; therefore Ulmo, loving all rivers and this one more than most, went thence on foot, robed to the middle in mail like the scales of blue and silver fishes; but his hair was a bluish silver and his beard to his feet was of the same hue, and he bore neither helm nor crown. Beneath his mail fell the skirts of his kirtle of shimmering greens, and of what substance these were woven is not known, but whoso looked into the depths of their subtle colours seemed to behold the faint movements of deep waters shot with the stealthy lights of phosphorescent fish that live in the abyss. Girt was he with a rope of mighty pearls, and he was shod with mighty shoes of stone.
—The Fall of Gondolin, “The Tale of the Fall of Gondolin”
Then Ulmo was wrapped in a mist as it were of sea-air in those inland places...
—The Fall of Gondolin, “The Tale of the Fall of Gondolin”
Perhaps most notable of all the characters of Ulmo was the fathomless depth of his eyes and his voice when he spoke to Tuor, filling him with fear...
—The Fall of Gondolin, “The Evolution of the Story”
Then was there much eagerness alight, and Eriol told them of his first wanderings about the western havens, of the comrades he made, and the ports he knew; of how he was one time wrecked upon far western islands and there upon a lonely eyot found an ancient mariner who dwelt for ever solitary in a cabin on the shore, that he had fashioned of the timbers of his boat.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part Two, “The Tale of Tinúviel”
I absolutely adore the detail we get about Ulmo and his appearance! But going off of that first quote from Valaquenta, I imagine he most often takes the form of a great wave in the vague shape of a man, or else an aquatic animal.
Visual depictions of I have made of Ulmo:
Aro Ulmo (moodboard with picrew; 2026)
Círdan + Ulmo (graphic; 2026)
Aro Ulmo (moodboard with picrew; 2023)
Ulmo & Nienna (graphic; 2020)
~
NIENNA
And Nienna arose and went up onto Ezellohar, and cast back her grey hood, and with her tears washed away the defilements of Ungoliant; and she sang in mourning for the bitterness of the world and the Marring of Arda.
—The Silmarillion, “Of the Flight of the Noldor”
To Vê Fui came not much, for she laboured rather at the distilling of salt humours whereof are tears, and black clouds she wove and floated up that they were caught in the winds and went about the world, and their lightless webs settled ever and anon upon those that dwelt therein. Now these tissues were despairs and hopeless mourning, sorrows and blind grief. The hall that she loved best was one yet wider and more dark than Vê, and she too named it with her own name, calling it Fui. Therein before her black chair burnt a brazier with a single flickering coal, and the roof was of bats’ wings, and the pillars that upheld it and the walls about were made of basalt.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor”
Yet mightier than she is Nienna who dwells with Nefantur Mandos. Pity is in her heart, and mourning and weeping come to her, but shadow is her realm and night her throne.
—The Lost Road and Other Writings, “Quenta Silmarillion”
I have two visions of Nienna. The first is of a woman simply covered in eyes: her hands, face, arms, legs, feet, etc...each of them a different shape and color, each of them weeping. Her skin between the eyes is a pale, deathly white, as is her long hair. The second is less disturbing, but still mysterious: a person-shaped figure concealed entirely by a gray robe, a white mask covering where her face might be, marked to show grief and sorrow. But I also think that when she is in the role of actively comforting someone, she changes her visage to appeal best to that person: kindly, familiar, gentle, whatever that might be to them.
Visual depictions of I have made of Nienna:
Aro Nienna (moodboard with picrew; 2026)
Nienna x Elwing (art; 2026)
Nienna (graphic; 2026)
Aro Nienna (moodboard with picrew; 2022)
Fëanturi (art; 2020)
Ulmo & Nienna (graphic; 2020)
Nienna (graphic, 2019)
Fëanturi (graphic; 2019)
~
NÁMO
There they beheld suddenly a dark figure standing high upon a rock that looked down upon the shore. Some say that it was Mandos himself, and no lesser herald of Manwë.
—The Silmarillion, “Of the Flight of the Noldor”
There rode the Fánturi upon a car of black, and there was a black horse upon the side of Mandos and a dappled grey upon the side of Lórien...
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Chaining of Melko”
Námo is barely described, and to me that says he is barely perceived. His visage is nothing but a great black robe, two hands of bone reaching from its sleeves, and nothing but utter darkness beneath his hood, save for two twinkling white stars for eyes.
Visual depictions of I have made of Námo:
Fëanturi (art; 2020)
Námo (art; 2020)
Námo (graphic, 2019)
Fëanturi (graphic; 2019)
~
VAIRË
Vairë is the only Vala for whom we have legitimately zero visual information.
In my mind, Vairë’s eyes are often closed, and when opened, are pure white with no iris or pupils. She takes the form of a woman draped in robes that are ever-shifting in pattern and color, and her hair and face are covered in a sheer veil. She has multiple sets of arms and hands, though they are not all always visible, and each pair is constantly moving: weaving, spinning, telling the tales of the world.
Visual depictions of I have made of Vairë:
Fëanturi (graphic; 2019)
Vairë (graphic; 2019)
~
IRMO
...but Lórien who loveth twilights and flittering shadows, and sweet scents borne upon evening winds, who is the lord of dreams and imaginings, sat nigh and whispered swift noiseless words, while his sprites played half-heard tunes beside him like music stealing out into the dark from distant dwellings; and the Gods poured upon that place rivers of the white radiance and silver light which Silindrin held even to the brim—and after their pouring was Silindrin yet well nigh full.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor”
SPAN- white. Q fanya, fána cloud. N fein white, faun cloud (*spāna); T spania ; Dan. spenna. Cf. Fanyamar upper air; Span-turo ‘lord of cloud’, Q Fantur surname of Mandos (Nurufantur, N Gurfannor ‘lord of Death-cloud’) and of his brother Lórien (Olofantur, N Olfannor ‘lord of Dream-cloud’); N pl. i-Fennyr or Fennir = Lórien and Mandos [see ÑGUR, OLOS]. (Confused in N with PHAY, q.v.)
[The beginning of this entry was first written ‘fanya cloud’; ‘cloud’ was struck through, and fána added, with meanings ‘white’ and ‘cloud’, but it is not clear how they are to be applied. - For Fanyamar see the Ambarkanta, IV. 236 etc. - I do not think that this association of the Fanturi with ‘cloud’ is found anywhere else.]
—The Lost Road and Other Writings, “The Etymologies”
To me, Irmo is a pale white figure, clad in sheer robes if he deigns to wear clothing at all. His hair is silver with flecks of gold, if he decides to have hair. It is hard to really fix an image of him in your mind, for he is always shifting in and out of sight, never quite in focus, just at the edge of comprehension. His eyes are pure, molten gold. Moths and butterflies often flit around him, further obscuring one’s view of him. Pale, shimmering rainbows dance around him, as if he emits light.
Visual depictions of I have made of Irmo:
Fëanturi (art; 2020)
Fëanturi (graphic; 2019)
Irmo (graphic; 2019)
~
ESTË
Grey is her raiment; and rest is her gift.
—The Silmarillion, “Valaquenta”
The wife of Lorien is Este the pale, but she goes not to the councils of the Valar and is not accounted among the rulers of Arda, but is the chief of the Maiar.
—Morgoth’s Ring, “The Annals of Aman”
Estë the pale is his wife, who walks not by day, but sleeps on an island in the dark lake of Lorien [> Lorion]. Thence her fountains bring refreshment to the folk of Valinor; yet she comes not to the councils of the Valar, and is not reckoned among their queens.
—Morgoth’s Ring, “Of the Valar”
So: Estë is grey and pale. To me, this evokes an image of a pale woman in a grey robe, often hooded, often lying down. When she does walk, it is very slowly. Her eyes are always closed. Her hair is gray, and fades into fog at the ends.
Visual depictions of I have made of Estë:
Fëanturi (graphic; 2019)
Estë (graphic; 2019)
~
OROMË
In the far days of their “Awakening” they had been visited and protected by Oromë in his fana of a great horseman mounted upon Nahar and bearing his mighty horn, the Valaróma.
—Parma Eldalambaron No. 17
But in Valmar his halls are wide and low, and skins and fells of great richness and price are strewn there without end upon the floor or hung upon the walls, and spears and bows and knives thereto. In the midst of each room and hall a living tree grows and holds up the roof, and its bole is hung with trophies and with antlers. Here is all Oromë’s folk in green and brown and there is a noise of boisterous mirth, and the lord of forests makes lusty cheer; but Vána his wife so often as she may steals thence.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor”
...but Oromë rode alone upon a chestnut horse and had a spear...
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor”
Now Kôr is lit with this wealth of gems and sparkles most marvellously, and all the kindred of the Eldalië are made rich in their loveliness by the generosity of the Noldoli, and the Gods’ desire of their beauty is sated to the full. Sapphires in great [?wonder] were given to Manwë and his raiment was crusted with them, and Oromë had a belt of emeralds, but Yavanna loved all the gems, and Aulë’s delight was in diamonds and amethysts.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor”
The name Tavros given to Oromë (891, 904) has occurred long before in the Gnomish dictionary, defined as the ‘chief wood-fay, the Blue Spirit of the Woods' (I. 267, entry Tavari). With his tree-propped halls (892) compare the description of Oromë's dwelling in Valmar in the tale of The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor, I. 75-6. At line 893 is the first mention of the golden hooves of Oromë's horse.
—The Lays of Beleriand, “The Lay of Leithian”
Oromë was the lord divine
of all those woods. The potent wine
went in his halls and hunting song.
The Gnomes anew have named him long
Tavros, the God whose horns did blow
over the mountains long ago;
who alone of Gods had loved the world
before the banners were unfurled
of Moon and Sun; and shod with gold
were his great horses. Hounds untold
baying in woods beyond the West
grey and limber, black and strong,
white with silken coats and long,
brown and brindled, swift and true
as arrow from a bow of yew;
their voices like the deeptoned bells
that ring in Valmar's citadels,
their eyes like living jewels, their teeth
like ruel-bone. As sword from sheath
they flashed and fled from leash to scent
for Tavros’ joy and merriment.
—The Lays of Beleriand, “The Lay of Leithian,” vv. 2242-2264
In my mind, Oromë looks just like an elf, just a lot more. His hair is silver-white; his eyes are brown; his medium-tan skin is often bare, and he ripples with muscle. But everything about him has just a little more of an edge. He seems realer than real, closer to nature, always bigger than you remember, always thrumming with primal energy and raw power. The most obviously un-elflike things about him are his fangs, claws, and of course the mighty antlers growing from his head.
Visual depictions of I have made of Oromë:
The Hunt of Oromë - he’s not actually depicted, but gets the vibe across (graphic; 2026)
The Hunt of Oromë - likewise (graphic; 2020)
Oromë (graphic; 2019)
~
VÁNA
The spouse of Oromë is Vána, the Ever-young; she is the younger sister of Yavanna. All flowers spring as she passes and open if she glances upon them; and all birds sing at her coming.
—The Silmarillion, “Valaquenta”
...and she clung to the bole of Laurelin and wept. Now was the time of faintest hope and darkness most profound fallen on Valinor that was ever yet; and still did Vána weep, and she twined her golden hair about the bole of Laurelin and her tears dropped softly at its roots.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Tale of the Sun and Moon”
There follows an account of how Vána, repenting of her past murmurings, cut short her golden hair and gave it to the Gods, and from her hair they wove sails and ropes ‘more strong than any mariner hath seen, yet of the slenderness of gossamer’.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Tale of the Sun and Moon”
‘Such,’ then said Vairë, ‘was and still is the manner of Olórë Mallë, the Path of Dreams; but of far other sort was the work of Oromë, who hearing the words of Manwë went speedily to Vána his wife, and begged of her a tress of her long golden hair. Now the hair of Vána the fair had become more long and radiant still since the days of her offering to Aulë, and she gave to Oromë of its golden threads.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Hiding of Valinor”
Vana the fair, her younger sister, is the wife of Oromë...
—Morgoth’s Ring, “The Annals of Aman”
Vana is his wife, the ever-young, the queen of flowers, who has the beauty both of heaven and of earth upon her face and in all her works; she is the younger sister of Varda and Palurien.
—Morgoth’s Ring, “Of the Valar”
I once saw it conjectured that Vána took the form of a child, thus being “ever-young.” I do think that is one of her forms, but I also imagine her as a youth just on the cusp of adulthood. Her hair is gold, and her eyes are green: the bright green of spring, of new-grown leaves. She is spring made manifest: not quite “ripe,” but almost, bursting with energy and potential.
Visual depictions of I have made of Vána:
Aroflux Vána (moodboard with picrew; 2023)
Vána (graphic; 2020)
~
TULKAS
His hair and beard are golden, and his flesh ruddy; his weapons are his hands.
—The Silmarillion, “Valaquenta”
But lo, the other was the spouse of Oromë the hunter who is named Aldaron king of forests, who shouts for joy upon mountain-tops and is nigh as lusty as that perpetual youth Tulkas.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor”
Otherwise was the mind of Tulkas, and he dwelt amidmost of Valmar. Most youthful is he and strong of limb and lusty, and for that is he named Poldórëa who loveth games and twanging of bows and boxing, wrestling, running, and leaping, and songs that go with a swing and a toss of a wellfilled cup. Nonetheless is he no wrangler or striker of blows unprovoked as is Makar, albeit there are none of Valar or Úvanimor (who are monsters, giants, and ogres) that do not fear the sinews of his arm and the buffet of his iron-clad fist, when he has cause for wrath. His was a house of mirth and revelry; and it sprang high into the air with many storeys, and had a tower of bronze and pillars of copper in a wide arcade. In its court men played and rivalled one another in doughty feats, and there at times would that fair maiden Nessa wife of Tulkas bear goblets of the goodliest wine and cooling drinks among the players. But most she loved to retire unto a place of fair lawns whose turf Oromë her brother had culled from the richest of all his forest glades, and Palúrien had planted it with spells that it was always green and smooth. There danced she among her maidens as long as Laurelin was in bloom, for is she not greater in the dance than Vána herself?
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor”
...and Tulkas strode mightily beside his stirrup, having a tunic of hide and a brazen belt and no weapon save a gauntlet upon his right hand, ironbound.
—The Book of Lost Tales: Part One, “The Chaining of Melko”
Tulkas, who is surnamed Poldórëa, the Valiant. He is unclothed in his disport, which is much in wrestling; and he rides no steed, for he can outrun all things that go on feet, and he is tireless. His hair and beard are golden, and his flesh ruddy; his weapons are his hands. He recks little of either past or future, and is of small avail as a counsellor, but a hardy friend. He has great love for Fionwë son of Manwë. His wife is Nessa, sister of Oromë, who is lissom of limb and fleet of foot, and dances in Valinor upon lawns of never-fading green.
—The Lost Road and Other Writings, “The Quenta Silmarillion”
Once upon a time, I saw this art of Tulkas by Konstantin Grigorjev, and that has stuck with me ever since. I see him as basically looking exactly like that: huge, muscled, powerful; golden hair, giant fists; glowing with golden power and skin tattooed with moving, glowing swirls. He basically never wears a shirt (rarely, he might don a vest, but still showing off his chest), only a simple pair of pants over his huge, tree trunk-like legs.
Visual depictions of I have made of Tulkas:
Genderfluid Arien/Tulkas (moodboard with picrew; 2022)
Tulkas (graphic; 2019)
& Not visual, but: I depicted Tulkas & his halls in my short fic “Here is a Place,” in which Fingon comes to Tulkas’ domain.
~
NESSA
His spouse is Nessa, the sister of Oromë, and she also is lithe and fleetfooted. Deer she loves, and they follow her train whenever she goes in the wild; but she can outrun them, swift as an arrow with the wind in her hair. In dancing she delights, and she dances in Valimar on lawns of never-fading green.
—The Silmarillion, “Valaquenta”
Other later Loremasters conjectured that Nessa was in fact Elvish in form (though archaic, on Pengolodh's own principle), being < *neresa, a feminine adjectival formation from *NER, meaning ‘she that has manlike valour or strength’.
—The War of the Jewels, “Quendi and Eldar”
And it is sung that in that feast of the Spring of Arda Tulkas espoused Nessa the sister of Orome, and Vana robed [her) in her flowers, and she danced before the Valar upon the green grass of Almaren.
—Morgoth’s Ring, “The Annals of Aman”
In my mind, Nessa is dark-haired and adorned with small antlers. Like her brother, she is at first glance much like an elf in appearance, but the closer you get to her the more deerlike she seems.
Visual depictions of I have made of Nessa:
Nessa (graphic; 2020)
~
I considered also doing Melkor, and maybe even a few of the more notable Maiar, but I ran out of steam. Maybe at a later date.
My overall takeaway from this little project is not only a better appreciation and understanding of the Valar, but also the urge to remake some of those old edits! Perhaps they’ll be coming your way soon... :) (Or perhaps not...you never know with me. Even I don’t know!)
not everything... needs to be....... ABOUT SHIPPING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (my psychic powers (which i have due to being aromantic) cause everything in the room to go flying away from me and vaporize the moment they hit the walls due to sheer force)
@esotolkienweek day five | ruins | eregion-that-was
The travellers reached a low ridge crowned with ancient hollytrees whose grey-green trunks seemed to have been built out of the very stone of the hills. Their dark leaves shone and their berries glowed red in the light of the rising sun. Away in the south Frodo could see the dim shapes of lofty mountains that seemed now to stand across the path that the Company was taking. At the left of this high range rose three peaks; the tallest and nearest stood up like a tooth tipped with snow; its great, bare, northern precipice was still largely in the shadow, but where the sunlight slanted upon it, it glowed red.
Gandalf stood at Frodo’s side and looked out under his hand. ‘We have done well,’ he said. ‘We have reached the borders of the country that Men call Hollin; many Elves lived here in happier days, when Eregion was its name.’
[...] ‘I think we will rest here, not only today but tonight as well. There is a wholesome air about Hollin. Much evil must befall a country before it wholly forgets the Elves, if once they dwelt there.’
‘That is true,’ said Legolas. ‘But the Elves of this land were of a race strange to us of the silvan folk, and the trees and the grass do not now remember them. Only I hear the stones lament them: deep they delved us, fair they wrought us, high they builded us; but they are gone. They are gone. They sought the Havens long ago.’
—The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, “The Ring Goes South”
~~~
image credits:
row 1 || ph: Jim Carroll (A Peculiar Ghost), France || ph: lonniebro (reddit)
row 2 || ph: Jim Carroll, France || Fasil Ghebbi, Ethiopia || Sintra, Portugal
row 3 || Ireland || Madame Sherri’s Castle in West Chesterfield, New Hampshire
For @arafinwean-week - Galadriel, Finrod, and Gildor (using my headcanon that Gildor is a kid Finrod adopted after he lost his parents on the Helcaraxë).
Click for better quality, art reqs open, DM about commissions <3
I messed around a lot with how much snow to add, still not sure it's quite right but good enough. Also I like Finrod's face he's very pretty.
@esotolkienweek day six | in the dark | the watcher in the water
He strode forward and set his foot on the lowest step. But at that moment several things happened. Frodo felt something seize him by the ankle, and he fell with a cry. Bill the pony gave a wild neigh of fear, and turned tail and dashed away along the lakeside into the darkness. Sam leaped after him, and then hearing Frodo’s cry he ran back again, weeping and cursing. The others swung round and saw the waters of the lake seething, as if a host of snakes were swimming up from the southern end.
Out from the water a long sinuous tentacle had crawled; it was pale-green and luminous and wet. Its fingered end had hold of Frodo’s foot, and was dragging him into the water. Sam on his knees was now slashing at it with a knife.
The arm let go of Frodo, and Sam pulled him away, crying out for help. Twenty other arms came rippling out. The dark water boiled, and there was a hideous stench.
—The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, “A Journey in the Dark”
Maedhros posing for my brand-new watercolour brush set: Texture Galore! (And raising the question whether it's possible for Maedhros to look TOO handsome; immediately answering it with a resounding nay.)
I've spent about two months perfecting this brush set, and I'm SO freaking happy with it! It's got 46 beautiful brushes to get that textured watercolour look just right.
See the brushes in action here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ICZwfcuCtc
Get the brush set: etsy.me/3u9xT9j
