#tsaw22

[forestials]

Morwen Eledhwen, again. For day four of Tolkien South Asian Week, by @arwenindomiel

[amethystmoonart]

Tolkien South Asian Week - Day 3: Dwarves

This is just a simple portrait of a female dwarf queen, as I really wanted to draw a dwarf woman, but there weren’t many mentioned besides Thorin’s sister.

The jewelry was inspiration from Thror in the Hobbit movies, as it was so unique and distinctive I wanted to draw it.

Thank you to @arwenindomiel for creating this event!

[sugurugetos]

TOLKIEN SOUTH ASIAN WEEK @arwenindomiel DAY I — Ainur / Monochrome ilmarë was chief amongst the maiar and handmaiden to queen varda. she was one of the greatest and most powerful of the maiar. 

[neechees]

Tolkien South Asian Week, DAY 2   //  ➵☆ Elves

“The daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, Celebrían wedded Elrond, and bore him Arwen Evenstar.”

[tarninausta]

@arwenindomiel‘s tolkien south asian week day 4 | men + portraits | eowyn

All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more. But I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death.

- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

[ID: A set of four graphics for Eowyn. The main colour is orange.

1: A woman wearing an orange gown (an Anarkali). She has light brown skin and dark brown hair and is put in front of a pale orange background. Behind her are three frames, two containing separate images (an old pakistani painting of a woman in a white dress, the other a photograph of men riding holding spears), the third framing the woman’s head. The image also contains text reading “Eowyn” in capital letters as well as “Lady of Rohan, fair and cold like a morning in spring” and “ a white flower standing straight and proud, shapely as a lily, yet knew that it was hard, as if wrought by elf-wrights out of steel “, both being LotR quotes describing Eowyn

2: Horses on a grassy plain. There’s text reading “ As she passed the doors she turned and looked back. Grave and thoughtful was her glance, as she looked on the king with cool pity in her eyes. [...] but strong she seemed and stern as steel, a daughter of kings” This is another LotR quote

3: A woman gazing through an intricately carved window. This image too contains a quote, reading “Alone Eowyn stood before the doors of the house at the stair's head; the sword was set upright before her, and her hands were laid upon the hilt. She was clad now in mail and shone like silver in the sun

4: The last graphic has the same layout as image 1. This time, the woman in the Anarkali stands with her back turned, and the images in the two frames show an oriel in a white stone building, and a pakistani traditional painting of a man on a horse, holding a spear. The text on this graphic reads “Eowyn” again, “A lady high and valiant, and has herself won renown”, and “who knows what she spoke in the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all her life seemed shrinking”

/End ID]

[fashi0nmistake]

TOLKIEN SOUTH ASIAN WEEK DAY TWO

@arwenindomiel

[arofili]

tolkien south asian week day one | monochrome ♦ avari | the hisildi | @arwenindomiel

But the Loremasters of later days, when more friendly relations had been established with Avari of various kinds in Eriador and the Vale of Anduin, recorded [...] the names that the Avari gave to themselves. They had evidently continued to call themselves Kwendï, ‘the People’, regarding those who went away as deserters. The Avarin forms cited by the Loremasters were: Kindi, Cuind, Hwenti, Windan, Kinn-lai, Penni.

—The History of Middle-earth: Volume XI: The War of the Jewels, “Quendi and Eldar”

[avantegarda]

South Asian Tolkien Week Day 7: Alternate Universes

I was so hype for this day because I have a ton of highly specific headcanons for (Goan) Anairë in my Victorian AU, and now I finally get to subject you to them! So you're getting a moodboard, some headcanons, and a short fic.

(Thanks for putting this together @arwenindomiel!)

--

London society adores Mrs. Anairë Gates (nee Torres), daughter of a Goan shipping magnate and wife of Mr. Fingolfin Gates. Miss Torres met her future husband on a family holiday to England in 1859, and while the British ton was initially scandalized at Fingolfin's relationship with a foreign lady, Anairë's impeccable manners, excellent fashion sense, and convenient Catholicism made the match a highly suitable one.

Mrs. Gates and her husband, along with their four children, reside in Marylebone, London, close to a vast number of other, less reputable relations.

"Your children," said Anairë, "seemed to have turned into wild animals."

Fingolfin Gates, having only just returned from the office and in desperate need of a stiff drink, sighed deeply. Whenever anything went wrong, of course, they were his children. The dignified Torres family could never produce unruly youngsters. "What have they done this time?" he asked wearily.

"While poor Turgon was sleeping, Fingon and Aredhel conspired to draw a mustache and rude words on his face with their oil pastels," Anaire said stiffly. "When Turgon woke up he was, naturally, upset, and chased them all the way to the kitchen, at which point Fingon and Aredhel started a 'food fight,' as they called it. The kitchen is a disaster."

"Ah, I see. Well, I will certainly have a talk with them, but no harm done really..."

"Baptista," Anairë hissed, "has put in his notice."

Fingolfin went pale. The family chef, Nikel Baptista, had come with Anairë from Goa when they were first married, and was nothing short of a wizard at his craft. Though it had taken some months for Fingolfin's English stomach to adjust to Goan cuisine, now the thought of returning to plan English roasts was pure torture.

"Are you certain he's not simply being...theatrical?" he asked hopefully. "Baptista does have rather an artistic temperament..."

"Oh no, he's resigned," said Anairë. "There was no mistaking his tone. And I am not hiring an English cook, Fingolfin, I am not. We would starve in a week."

"It's unconscionable," Fingolfin fumed. "To abandon a family on such short notice, and leave us in such a position! Where does he think he'll find better employers than us?"

"Apparently he plans to inquire with the other branches of our family," said Anairë distastefully. "As though any of them would dare to take him from us. Not even..." She trailed off, a smile spreading slowly across her face. "No need to panic, my dear husband, I believe I've just thought of a scheme. Your stomach is spared."

"Thank God," Fingolfin muttered, heading to the brandy decanter. "A man has got to eat."

--

Four o'clock found Anairë in the parlor with her sister-in-law, renowned Irish sculptor Nerdanel Gates. A greater contrast between two women could not have been found: Anairë tidy and regal in her navy-blue jacket and bustled skirt, Nerdanel in men's breeches and a leather apron, her ginger hair piled on her head and clay dust covering her skin. Still, they greeted one another with genuine enthusiasm. Along with their Welsh sister-in-law, Earwen, they were the only women in London who knew what it was like being married to a Gates brother.

"You look grand as always, Anairë," Nerdanel said. "And here I am, looking a fright. Still, always nice to see you. What brings you here today?"

"Actually, Nerdanel darling, I was hoping to ask you a favor," said Anairë. "If it's not too much of a bother."

"No trouble at all, my dear. How can I help?"

"My chef has recently given notice after an... incident with my children," said Anairë. "He mentioned he might like to work with another branch of the family, so if he comes calling..."

"You want me to turn him away, I imagine," said Nerdanel. "Sure and that won't be difficult. You know how my husband feels about hiring servants."

"As a matter of fact, no," said Anairë. "I would like you to hire him."

Nerdanel's green eyes widened. "Hire him? Whatever for?"

"Clearly, Baptista feels our home is a trifle too chaotic for his liking," said Anairë. "What he needs is a bit of... perspective. And if you'll forgive me for saying so, Nerdanel dear, your home is a tad more chaotic than mine from day to day."

"Aye, no point mincing words there," Nerdanel snorted. "Why Fëanor and I decided to produce seven wains will always be a mystery. So you'd like us to take him on temporarily, give him a wee shock, is it? Well, I'm certain I can talk Fëanor into hiring Baptista for a week or so, though I doubt much longer..."

Anairë, thinking of Baptista's sensitive nature, smirked. "Dear Nerdanel, I doubt it'll take more than three days."

--

Approximately forty-eight hours later, Anaire was interrupted at her afternoon tea by one of the parlormaids, who explained that Mrs. Gates was desperately needed in the kitchen.

Upon arriving downstairs, Anaire was greeted by the sight of Baptista, who seemed to have aged about ten years overnight. His usually neatly slicked-back hair was unkempt, and his jaw unshaved.

Suppressing a smile, Anaire sat at the kitchen table across from him. "Baptista. How pleasant to see you. What brings you back here?"

"Senhora Gates," said Baptista, and quickly switched into rapid-fire Konkani. "I would never ask such a thing under ordinary circumstances, but I must beseech you to consider hiring me back to my old position. I was mistaken in leaving, I see that now. Your home seems like a paradise, compared to..."

"Compared to my brother-in-law's household?" Anaire looked at him in false shock. "Baptista, you surprise me! The family of one of the most respectable inventors in Europe is difficult to work for?"

"Those children of his are demons," Baptista practically snarled. "The elder ones make more noise than a marching band, and the younger ones are practically wild animals. They threw eggs about the house, let squirrels into the kitchen, and played the violin at all hours. I cannot believe they share any blood with your dear children, madam."

Anairë permitted herself a smirk. "Indeed, I think my children misbehave far less frequently. It won't inconvenience you too much to stay in a household where they're present?"

"Madam," said Baptista, "after the last two days, it would be my delight."

Outwardly calm, it was all Anairë could do to keep from whooping in self-congratulation. He has learned his lesson, all right, she thought. I may solve things politely, but no one crosses Anairë Gates.