#arien/ilmare

[cilil]

N - Nighttime

Characters: Ilmarë/Arien

Synopsis: Arien visits Taniquetil during the night.

Warnings: /

Drabble

The sky above Valinor is dark save for the moon, the stars and a bright, fiery light making its way to Taniquetil. 

Ilmarë smiles and hurries to greet Arien, her pale starlight mingling with golden flames as the two embrace one another. Their duties keep them apart often, yet every once in a while, her beloved comes to see her, and she cherishes these moments of closeness. 

"I missed you," Arien breathes.

"I missed you too," Ilmarë whispers, shedding her fána to endure the heat of her spirit. "Will you stay with me tonight?" 

"If you want, dearest, I will." 

taglist: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @floraroselaughter @i-did-not-mean-to @singleteapot

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#fotfics #april alphabet challenge #ilmare #ilmarë #arien #arien x ilmare #arien/ilmare #luminous lesbians #maiar #ainur #drabble #fluff #short and sweet #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #tolkien fanworks #tolkien fanfiction #tolkien #cílil writes #my writing

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

Appointed

My @gatesofsummerexchange gift for @wonderwafles, I hope you enjoy, and sorry for posting a little late! Merry solstice everyone, try not to destroy any cities!

When is the sun not the sun? When is a child and sibling and lover and friend turned to a stranger? When is a change happening if you can't tell the difference? Never and always, says the Sun. On a separate path, says the Ainu. I don't know, says Arien, and so she sails.

4198 Words | Read on AO3

Notes: I used a lot of Valarin (much credit to @valarinventures, and to @yellow-feathered-faerie for Thuringwethil's name), especially for character names at the beginning. Normally I'd leave translations in the AO3 notes, but I feel like this really needs them, so I'll have them at the bottom here. There's still a lot more in the notes though! I've been wanting to write a big character study for Arien for a while with all my headcanons on her, so when I saw your prompt I couldn't resist! This is probably the saddest thing I've written yet, but it isn't all bad, and the ending is at least bittersweet. Lots of complicated relationships, Emotions, and the highs and lows of Arda marred.

<☼━Ayan-um-ûz wâyôz-iyôz (Ainulindalë)━☼>

Tulukh-igas was created as all Ayan-um-ûz are created- perfect and entirely complete for the brief moment of eternity that they did not realize they could contemplate themself. Even the names came later, as how could any mere words fully encapsulate a Being? The moment ended swiftly, of course (in comparison to eternity), but nonetheless Tulukh-igas took better to the contemplation than some, and better than most the the realization that complete self-identity and fulfillment only comes with time and experience.

Few Ayan-um-ûz are created wholly alone and separate- some discover Tone-mates or Counterpoints, many discover those who hold Harmony with them, and Tulukh-igas was no different, despite a seeming inclination for solitude. They had Tone-mates: several, certainly more than the average for those as powerful as them. It seemed a strange choice on the part of Îl-Launaþrænšiwâz, given their Choir’s lonesome natures, but who is to question the will of the Conductor? The Tone-mates in question, apparently, much to Tulukh-igas’ chagrin- Barâdakesa, who styled themself the leader of their Choir, Raxôn-rušur, Pûruz-amâzêz, and the rest. A Counterpoint’s existence they were less certain of, but this is natural- Counterpoints develop together, and might not find each other right away, if they even exist. A Harmony- perhaps. It seemed likely, but Tulukh-igas quickly discovered that they were not particularly hasty, staying behind as their Tone-mates set to muttering and seeking answers from those unable to give them.

The Song began slowly, at first. Fits and starts, rippling out as the Ayan-um-ûz found their voices. Tulukh-igas did not join in the moment they heard- they waited, and listened, and while many of the Songs were incomprehensible to them, there were some that resonated and for those few shining moments they understood-

Singing itself was indescribable. Though they sang together with their Choir, Tulukh-igas was drawn to a particular refrain separate from the rest. It matched up at points with their Tone-mates, and they heard notes echoed or mirrored in other Songs also, but only pieces. Scraps of the same Music taken to Sing countless different Melodies. They knew at the very core of their being that that refrain was them, their place in this Song. They didn’t know if this was the experience of others, and they didn't ask. It seemed too personal.

This Tuning was for individuals. A shaping and discovering of natures, and those that would further that shaping. It is only through their Song that Tulukh-igas realized an inversion of notes they heard before- the beginnings of a Counterpoint, though who held the reverse they did not know. Sometimes Harmonies were revealed in the Choirs, and Tulukh-igas laughed along with many others as Ošošai and Uyu-ninêz found both Counterpoint and Harmony together and their increasing volume and joy slowly gained strength over their Choir, to much general amusement.The Tuning was ended by the hands Îl-Launaþrænšiwâz lifting and bringing the separate Songs to a stunning halt. The Theme that was explained to the Ayan-um-ûz was glorious, and at the declaration that each would help to shape it they all grew stunned once more before beginning the Song in truth, filled with the words of Îl-Launaþrænšiwâz and the Flame Imperishable.

<☼━Phelûn-manal (Almaren)━☼>

Tulukh-igas is not disappointed like many who choose to enter Aþâraphelûn at its unexpected barrenness compared to their brief vision of what it could be. She had a glimpse of heat and light and herself in the sky and knows that whatever potential she has will not be fulfilled for a while yet. She is content to figure out the laws of combustion and the wave-particle properties of light, and to tend to the growing things of Aya-banâz and Wânâz. She doesn’t fight in the War against Belekôrôz, she is just a gardener, no matter her power, but she welcomes Tulukhaštâz and his bringing of peace. For the moment, all is well.

Phelûn-manal is a lovely place, but it seems incomplete. Nothing is wrong, per say, but she thinks that this might be part of the problem. This is Aþâraphelûn Dušamanûðân, and Îl-Launaþrænšiwâz promised beauty to come from the marring as well as in spite of it. The light of the Lamps shines brilliantly over the world’s perfect symmetry, and Tulukh-igas is both drawn and put off by them- Tulukh-barâdal especially: golden and lovely and not quite what it feels like it should be.

But something else takes precedence in the face of a familiar Song reversed as she finds her Counterpoint. Her name is Aþûrdušithîrêz, and she is dark and fae and Tulukh-igas is pulled to her like a star in orbit. She serves most under Wânâz, taking forms like the concepts for bats Tulukh-igas has seen, but she has a sharpness to her that doesn’t seem to suit the Beautiful One. The contrasts between the two of them are apparent at once, and the stuttering song and dance they perform to understand each other reveals even more.

Tulukh-igas has few ambitions, if any, while Aþûrdušithîrêz is fiercely independent and wants, more than anything, to make her own path. Tulukh-igas is steady and consistent, Aþûrdušithîrêz harsh and flighty. Tulukh-igas is best suited to solitude in her tasks, but gets along well with most everyone. Aþûrdušithîrêz is drawn to company, and works best among it, but dislikes all except a scant few. Tulukh-igas grows to know those few slowly- there is Aþûrdušithîrêz’s Tone-mate Ibrî-ȝarôz who rides with Arômêz, and Amâz-âyaniyôz his friend in the service of Irimôz, and while he is often otherwise engaged, Iȝônowêz is also tolerated for Ibrî-ȝarôz’s sake.

She discovers a faintly growing Harmony in Amâz-âyaniyôz, unfulfilled, but with potential. She meets Gili-mâz, Tone-mate to Iȝônowêz and devoted to Barâdâz, they share no Measure but are drawn together nonetheless. Aþûrdušithîrêz darkens with what she denies is jealousy, but Tulukh-Igas laughs and grows her flowers to drink from and tells her that there is only one who holds her Counterpoint and it is not lessened by relationships with others.

Her relationship to her Tone-mates is, however. They become darker, more insular, more concerned with holding their power. All of their Choir are ill-suited to serve the Balaȝumâz with their power and independence, but Tulukh-igas is grateful that her Ladies are happy to leave her to her work or she thinks she might be as discontent as her kin. She has found a place to work and be as herself, and they can’t say the same. It creates a rift, especially as she discovers new parts to her Song and they grow more firmly entrenched into theirs.

When the Lamps are destroyed, she is angered and grieved, but unsurprised. This is the Marring of the Music, and she can work within it. When a new war is declared she sees those who will fight off, and begins preparing to pick up the pieces of Phelûn-manal’s ruins. She has no great foresight, but she is no fool and she knows about what to expect. She does not expect betrayal.

Barâdakesa calls himself Girimaph-ai with a snarling smirk on a terrible form, and she scorches him for it. She does not deny his chosen name- to do so would be blasphemy against the Song far higher than he and his fellows attempt- but she denies his authority. A leader he has styled himself, and their Tone-mates may follow him, but she has Sung her Part and Sung it well and she knows what her place will be. She will not find it in Belekôrôz and his rebellion, that much is certain. That they would even ask her to join them is an insult, and also a heartbreaking honor. She has been ignorant, but they have been blinded, to not understand the fundamental truth of who she is.

She does not fight them, nor they her, but when Raxôn-rušur tries to crack his whip and break the earth further she blazes golden and terrible and knows and hates that she is the strongest of them all. They leave for Delgûmûðân-axâzâz and Tulukh-igas is left to mourn in silence for what could have been, grief stoked in the places where her Tone-mates’ Notes should ring.

Rebuilding is harder than it should be. Decisions are made and changed and compromised on, trying to remake something gone for good. Tulukh-igas cannot deny her grief that their paradise was so easily ruined, although she chooses to take what joy she can in the making of something new. But not everyone takes well to it. The darkness and ruin doesn’t only beget good.

Aþûrdušithîrêz is not one to be direct when it comes to herself. She obfuscates, dances around the heart of the issue. Flies to strange places with messages she shouldn’t have. It is Tulukh-igas who confronts her, who Sings a Counterpoint melody that no longer runs in parallels but inverse, notes shaped to split and divide in a way it didn’t used to. Aþûrdušithîrêz doesn’t deny it. The melody swells even as both of them stand silent. It isn’t the empty discord of a Tone-mate no longer- it builds, wrapping around them and weaving them closer than ever, even as their Songs are warped beyond each other’s recognition. It is a twisted way that their Counterpoint is fulfilled, Aþûrdušithîrêz has turned to the shadows as Tulukh-igas turns to the light, nectar to blood and fire to fruit.

She turns away and spreads her wings. Tulukh-igas watches, and hopes that they are at least not opposites in mourning. She holds out faint hope that she might return as Ošošai did. That a Counterpoint without Harmony could be enough.

She doesn’t.

<☼━Phelûn-Bala3umâz (Valinórë)━☼>

Arien- for she is called Arien now- does not interact much with the First-Born in Valinórë, for all that she can admit to herself she finds them rather fascinating. She tends to Vána’s flowers and to the glorious boughs of Laurelin and watches as they bloom towards her even as the Eldar shy away. Her spirit is too brilliant for most incarnates, even when she cloaks herself in the most physical form she can bear. Not all incarnates, however.

She meets an elf-child, once. She was tending some of the gardens in Lórien for a change when she near-literally stumbles across him (the hazards of incarnation). He looks like he had been crying. He winces only when he sees her eyes, but in avoiding them still manages to watch the fiery licks of her hair and the golden glow pouring from the dark of her skin. Arien finds herself curious, and cannot help but start up a conversation.

The child introduces himself, and she refrains from laughing only because he seems sensitive. What a pair they make! She cannot help but see some tiny part of herself reflected in this child- fiery, half-adrift, trying to heal from unsolvable loss. They speak for a while, but Laurelin begins to wane and the child admits his father will worry, and they go their eventual separate ways after this chance meeting of strangers. Still, he does not leave without both their moods having lifted some from their individual griefs, and not without several suggestions for methods she could use to make her form less painful to incarnate eyes. They are good ideas, and she tells him so, but the child doesn’t go until she tells him that she will consider one- not insincerely, either, as a darkening eyepiece has potential- which is sweet of him.

It is only many years later that the reality of who that child was strikes her. She laughs lowly, and refuses to dwell on might-have-beens. She is just a gardener, and for better or worse, Fëanáro was always going to change the world.

<☼━Ezellôchâr (Ezellohar)━☼>

The release of Melkor brings discontent. For all he claims to have repented, Arien cannot trust him. Where then are her Tone-mates, her siblings? Where is Aþûrdušithîrêz, her Counterpoint and the one that she loved? But no one expects the true cost of his freedom.

She is not there. Very few are on a festival day, and none could’ve prevented this. But she feels it in her chest and throat and mouth, burning and throbbing like a bass drum igniting the air. She doesn’t know what it is, not at first, dissimilar as it is from the discordance of her Tone-mates spitting from their shared Notes, or the crashing swell of a Counterpoint fully realized, darkness to light and light to dark. She doesn’t know what it is, until she notices the slow-dimming light. She doesn’t always have wings, but now she flies.

She’s too late. Silmo is there, his form fading in the same pulses that she feels. There are streaks of Unlight through him, branching from deep wounds, corrupting his silver glow even as the Shadows of her kin flicker like smoke through her own gold. Their broken facsimile of what was is the only Light in the Darkness.

The Trees are dead, and with Laurelin goes a piece of Arien. The burn of drums in the deep is her own Song being Unsung, the withered Tree is her own corpse, and Arien cannot do anything but ignite.

Idly, she is aware of time passing. Ainur and Eldar come and go, mourning and screaming. She can pay them no mind, attuned only to Fire and Song. Her grief has always been a coal-seam fire, long burning and subtle, but it has awoken into a forest-fire bent on razing what was to the ground. But finally, new life rises from ashes.

She wakes to Song. She hears it, and knows her Ladies. There is another Song- not hers- and tears shed from the hope for beauty to come from Marring. It falters, but Arien has never wavered from her duty. Light, slow blooming. She is formless, yellow heat and blinding light, but Sings nonetheless, and Laurelin bears a final fruit.

Word of the Valar’s idea spreads slowly, hope hard to ignite in the darkness, but Ilmarë makes sure it reaches those who cared for the Trees first. They take a moment together, her and Arien, ëalar pressed close, but soon she must leave, devotion to Varda pulling her away. Arien understands, but it is no easy thing when one love is in the service of the one who destroyed a part of your Being, and the other is ever kept away by duty. Her Song may fit with many, but her character is well suited to being alone. Still, she is just a gardener- and with luck, soon a sailor too- and she has a case to plead.

Máhanaxar is lessened in the darkness. They are escorted together, she and Silmo, with pointless ceremony. He is drawn and pale and waning, entirely unlike a Maia, she is blindingly bright and scorching to a degree that would be very rude if she had any control over it. The decision is mostly a formality.

For all that Silmo loved Telperion, he is deeply injured in body and spirit, not fit for the burdens that this vocation would bring. She hears their Harmony fall softly out of tune as he accepts this with sorrowful grace and quickly leaves.

Arien is left standing amidst the great Powers of the world, unable to hold a form, burning anything that comes near, and one of the very few Maiar who can bear the full power of Laurelin. This Song was long sung- Arien will bear the last of Tulukhedelgorûs through Ilmen.

The Valar have barely pronounced their decision when another Maia bursts in. She recognizes him- Tilion, Aþûrdušithîrêz’s Tone-mate, a hunter of Oromë, friend of Silmo, and a lover of Telperion. She hears a Song begin to weave into her own for the first time in Ages of the world, and feels herself flicker into something closer to a shape.She knows herself like this. She’s seen herself like this, a glimpse out of time. Arien is herself and for the first time since the Trees died, she feels it.

<☼━Šebeth barâdal (Ilmen)━☼>

Tilion and Telperion’s flower are sent up first, out of tradition as much as the desire to give him more time to settle into his new role. Seven passes across the sky, and then Arien rises.

Several problems quickly become clear. Tilion… does his best. He’s apologetic, at least, but he doesn’t have the steady hand needed to keep his course, and always gets too enthusiastic when they pass each other, leaving his ship scorched. The timing of the days is, and the sway of his course slowly hides parts of Iþil from the view of Arda. He is lucky, Arien thinks, that she enjoys his company.

There are other problems too- the continual light hides the stars, and leaves little time for rest. Even before the Darkening, there were places of shadow and half-light in Valinórë, and now it is gone and the effects are being seen. Flowers wilt in Arien’s heat, rather than growing towards her, and that, more than anything, feels wrong.

The Powers seem to agree, because not long after she begins sailing Eonwë comes bearing new orders- they are to take turns sailing across the sky, East to West, and this will be the new reckoning of days.

She thinks that they hope this new rhythm will be able to steady Tillion. She doubts it and is proved right. His timing improves, but his light-phases continue, in no small part because of the monsters that Melkor begins sending after him. It is hard to steer when you are beset by shadow beasts, he says one day when he is in the sky with her, admitting half the reason he sails in the day at times is to get away from them, the Dark Lord too much of a coward to try and test Arien herself with his monsters. She chuckles and blazes a little brighter at that, and he laughs along at the implicit threat. She is just a gardener and a sailor, but has as much reason as any to hate the Marrer, and more power than most.

As the years wear on, she finds herself more grateful than she expected for Tilion’s occasional company. She doesn’t mind the silence or the loneliness, but she prefers his conversation.

He tells her early on that Aþûrdušithîrêz is now called Thuringwethil, and she doesn’t ask how he learned that. He sings over stories from his hunts and she returns with some of the more amusing gardening anecdotes she’s gathered over the years. They watch over Beleriand together like none besides Manwë and Varda can, and Tilion teases her about the Men that worship her for her light. She smiles and rolls her eyes and listens to their prayers, granting or passing on what few she can.Things settle, after a while. The first eclipse is certainly something to experience- when Tilion learns that Thuringwethil was still alive after the incident with Lúthien he stops everything to go and tell Arien, despite the fact that it’s midday. They spend several minutes shouting at each other and the situation and their shared love of an idiodic, evil vampire; what was she thinking-! The conflicting emotions from that are quickly swept away, however, when they learn of the accidental terror he had inflicted on the denizens of Arda. Apparently the general consensus was that it was either some foul work of Melkor or a second Darkening. That doesn’t stop it happening again the next time he has “urgent” news, or the next, or the next, but eventually even eclipses become somewhat predictable as Tilion works out a method to his madness. Even change becomes routine.

<☼━Aþarum wâ-lûnunal (Yéni únótimë)━☼>

She is tired. Tired and old, but duty is duty. Aþâraigas, she takes as her title as she takes up her ship, and Aþâraigas she quietly dubs herself in the silence of the Void she near-ceaselessly travels. Arien she still is, Ûrî makes her smile faintly even long after the fall of Numenor, and she lends her ear to any prayer to the Sun- to her or her Light the same. Either way the names don’t ring quite falsely, just as Tulukh-igas still holds their place within her.  But it is no longer truly her, truly Aþâraigas, for as the ages drag on she is the appointed light and little else. Tillion- Phanaikelûth, he admits one time, nothing but a bright mirror for his burden to shine on- struggles with the same. Her heart aches for him more than for herself. She was made for this, the endless voyage that she glimpsed such a small part of long ago, that she Sang herself into, and though she is tired she is not uncontent. But Phanaikelûth is a hunter, ill suited for the role he begged his way into, moreso now that the monsters of the Void past are all but gone. His burden wears on him, even in his wandering, even through his attempts to be subtle as he passes his ship off to Thuringwethil on the blood moons when it is eclipsed out of the Sun’s sight.

Eärendil joins them before they grow weary, already weary himself. He heals, somewhat, over the course of an age. His eyes don’t grow any lighter, but they sparkle a little more with laughter when Tilion hollers over one of his truly terrible stories from Oromë’s hunt. He smiles when Arien gives him advice to cope with the prayers of Elves and Men that reach his ears- she has been dealing with it ever since Men first awoke to her light, after all. He tells stories of his own, eventually, of great cities and peoples they have only watched from afar.

It is not a terrible vocation they are bound to. Eärendil is a sailor almost more than anything else, Arien has always been content with her role, and though Tilion struggles he has grown to love the brilliance of the Void almost as much as the last light of Telperion. They have rest from their journeys on occasion, and all have frequent visits from Elwing and Ilmarë and Eonwë, and messages from those who cannot come. Silmo heals as much as he can, and writes them letters with terrible jokes. The strange web of siblings and friends and lovers and not-lovers that develops between the sailors and those they love is made more complex by Thuringwethil’s not-quite-contrite visits to her brother, and by Tilion’s ongoing love affair with Salmar and his tides, and by Eonwë’s devotion to them all, among other things.

It’s a source of amusement to pass the time, charting out increasingly detailed maps that enumerate the various relationships between the three of them (Eärendil wins for amount, able to include all of his and Elwing’s relations as well as the majority of Men in the west of Middle Earth). They figure out games to play when the ships come close enough, and then invent new ones when ettirnen grew repetitive with only so many things to have spied in the void. When Eärendil acknowledges his name no longer fits him quite as well it is a bitter realization, but Aþâraigas and Phanaikelûth shout Valarin lessons to him until he Sings back something that sounds better for voices of heavenly light, and the words of the Ainur travel farther in the Void.

Still. It wears.

The Valar offer more than once to find a way to automate the ships. It would be possible, Aulë insists. The three of them- Aþâraigas, Phanaikelûth, and Utiôrôi-al Azôz-iyôz all- smile as politely as they can at the messenger and decline. Through messages sung between ships, or passed briefly when two (or ever-so-rarely all three of them) happen have coinciding shore-leaves in the distortion of Valinor-time, or even once through a bemused Elwing (playing passenger-pigeon, she joked wryly, and her eyes were no younger than her husband’s. Aþâraigas wanted to ask her true name), they all agree. Any chance of that was closed at the Reshaping of Arda. Aþâraigas is the Sun, just as surely as she is not the Sun, not a flaming star orbited by planets, but the very essence of it. Their spirits are tied to those celestial bodies that they are and represent, and to remove themselves fully from that bond would be irreparable, even if the Sun still burned and the Moon still shone and the Star of High Hope still twinkled.

Phanaikelûth still admits that he has been tempted by the offer more than once.

Utiôrôi-al Azôz-iyôz smiles, grim and false, and doesn’t say anything. They understand. 

Aþâraigas says that if she who Sang of herself and her duty before knowing they were one and the same is tempted by the release from it, then truly the end is nigh.

They all laugh, a little bitter, even knowing it’s not a joke.

She wonders, sometimes, if she dreads the end of the Song more than she looks forward to it. She doesn’t know. She tries not to think too deeply on it. She is just a gardener and a sailor and a light with work to do, she cannot read ahead in the Music. And so she sails.

<☼━━━━━━━━━━━━━☼>

Arien: Tulukh-igas (Yellow-heat) | Aþâraigas (Appointed-heat)

Ainur: Ayan-um-ûz

Iluvatar: Îl-Launaþrænšiwâz (All-Maker)

Gothmog: Barâdakesa (High/lofty-voice) | Girimaph-ai (Binding)

Durin’s Bane: Raxôn-rušur (Stone-fire)

Dead-by-Glorf: Pûruz-amâzêz (Dark-lighter)

Ossë: Ošošai (Spewing/foaming)

Uinen: Uyu-ninêz (Seaweed maiden)

Arda: Aþâraphelûn (Appointed-dwelling)

Yavanna: Aya-banâz (Fruit-giver)

Vána: Wânâz (Beautiful)

Melkor: Belekôrôz (Mighty-rising)

Tulkas: Tulukhaštâz (Golden-haired)

Almaren: Phelûn-manal (Home/place-holy)

Arda-Marred: Aþâraphelûn Dušamanûðân

Ormal: Tulukh-barâdal (Gold-high)

Thuringwethil: Aþûrdušithîrêz (Secret-un-light-person)

Tilion: Ibrî-ȝarôz (Silver-horned) | Phanaikelûth (Bright-mirror)

Oromë: Arômêz (Horn-blower)

Silmo: Amâz-âyaniyôz (Light help-of)

Irmo: Irimôz (Desirer)

Eonwë: Iȝônowêz (Herald)

Ilmarë: Gili-mâz (Star-light)

Varda: Barâdâz (She-who-raises)

Valar: Balaȝumâz

Utumno: Delgûmûðân-axâzâz (Hidden-hall)

Laurelin: Tulukhedelgorûs

Eärendil: Utiôrôi-al Azôz-iyôz (Good-ris-ing star-of)

#gos2022 #tolkien #writing #my writing #silm fic #arien #balrog #thuringwethil #tilion #earendil #ilmare #eonwe #silmo #elwing #arien/ilmare #arien/thuringwethil #valarin

[sakasakiii]

for quite some time now ive wanted to redesign some of my existing maiar designs as well as give proper designs to some ive never really bothered with before, so here's some updated fullbody concepts! im happiest with mairon's honestly, but i really like the idea of olorin being a haggled, minimalistic shepherd who walks around valinor covered in dirt HAHAHAH

i also wanted to explore some of their potential dynamics with each other 😙 esp eonwe-ilmare and mairon-arien as siblings so these are just some quick doodles cuz my neck is in pa i n

compiled fullbody ref sheet under the cut 💃

#silmarillion #maiar #mairon #sauron #eonwe #the silmarillion fanart #this week: local dark lord tries to fight the sun (for the 8277th time) #idk but olorin/gandalf as the eccentric old guy who pops into everyones house uninvited is such a prevalent concept in my head #eonwe is a sweet summer child.... but ilmare is the foreboding one who ruins parties and reminds the teacher about forgotten homework #arien and tilion take on their original elemental forms #but they do have more physical fana like everyone else #silm #the silmarillion #olorin #gandalf #valinor #osse #uinen #arien #tilion #curumo #saruman #ilmare #character design #silm art #sibling dynamics #lotr #year of the trees

[silmsmutweek]

ROUND-UP: AINUR

All creations are Mature or Explicit unless marked as *sfw. Please see work tags for warnings.

Arien/Eönwë Day 6 by @maironite

Eönwë/Gothmog Intercrural sex and wings by @i-did-not-mean-to

Eönwë/Ilmarë/Manwë Day 4 by @a-world-of-whimsy-5

Eönwë/Manwë/Varda Sublime Companionship by @cilil

Estë/Irmo Dream me awake by @cilil

Gothmog/Morgoth Day 1 by @a-world-of-whimsy-5

Makar/Meássë Day 3 by @a-world-of-whimsy-5

Manwë/Ulmo/Varda Sharing is Caring by @cilil

Morgoth/Sauron Dirty talk and lingerie by @i-did-not-mean-to Day 4/5 by @maironite A Dragon's Favourite Treasure by @cilil

Morgoth/Tulkas Forced Favours by cilil

Morgoth/Varda Incinerate by @cliffdivingsblog Art by @marimosalad

Ossë/Uinen Day 7 by @maironite

Uinen/Varda Day 7 by @a-world-of-whimsy-5

#round-up #silmarillion smut #silm smut #ainur #valar #maiar #morgoth #sauron #manwe #varda #eonwe #arien #gothmog #ilmare #ulmo #tulkas #osse #uinen

[tuilere]

Watercolour silm bookmarks :)

#these are so fun to make #silmarillion #valar #maiar #feanor #maedhros #maglor #varda #manwe #aule #yavanna #ulmo #tuor #uinen #osse #arien #tilion #ilmare #eonwe #melkor #mairon #gothmog?? #tolkien #watercolour #traditional art

[tarninausta]

In western lands beneath the Sun The flowers may rise in Spring, The trees may bud, the waters run, The merry finches sing. Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night, And swaying branches bear The Elven-stars as jewels white Amid their branching hair. Though here at journey's end I lie In darkness buried deep, Beyond all towers strong and high, Beyond all mountains steep, Above all shadows rides the Sun And Stars for ever dwell: I will not say the Day is done, Nor bid the Stars farewell.

ARIEN and ILMARE + SAM’S SONG ✧ @tolkienofcolourweek day 2: music

[ID: An edit consisting of 24 images total, split into sets of six images that are mainly golden and black in turns. The edit is meant to focus on the sun and Arien in the golden sets and on the stars and Ilmare in the black ones.

1: The sun rising above trees / 2: an east asian woman, wearing hanfu. She’s cradling a paper lantern / 3: text reading “above all shadows rides the sun” / 4: The sun rising above clouds / 5: The sky at sunrise / 6: A sun motif made from golden mosaique

7: the model Maria Borges, a black woman, with glittering silver makeup around her eyes / 8: stars in space / 9: Stars over a mountain / 10: Text reading “and stars forever dwell / 11: Someone dressed in grey glittering tulle lying on a bench / 12: Stars over the sea

13: The sun rising over a mountaintop / 14: Golden light on water / 15: Text reading “i will not say the day is done” / 16: The east asian woman from image two, hanging a lantern in a tree / 17: Details from an iron gate, showing a sun symbol in gold / 18: Sunlight seen through grasses

19: Stars over the sea / 20: Black tulle decorated with stars / 21: Shooting stars / 22: Text reading “Nor bid the stars farewell” / 23: Glittering light on a dark sea / 24: Maria Borges with the same glittering makeup as in image 7 / End ID]

#tocweek2022 #tolkienedit #silmedit #mepoc #oneringnet #tolkiensource #arien #ilmare #userindomiel #userlyndeth #userbalins #usersansa #usersari #userhaleths #southfarthing #lotredit #silmarillion #silm #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings #🌟 edits #with id

[arofili]

@arospecfanworksweek day seven | free day | soft romo ilmarë x arien

My starlight // My sunshine My midnight // My dawn Dear maiden, I love thee In time with the Song My teardrop // My sunbeam My glimmer // My gleam Dear maiden, I love thee As hearts love a dream

As stars rise // As dawn breaks As light fills the sky I long to be with thee When twilight is nigh As hands touch // As hearts blush As choruses sound I think of thee fondly The love I have found

O nightfall // O daybreak O sweetheart of mine Thine orbit eludes me And yet I am fine O darkness // O brightness O light and its lack I need not to love thee If thou lov’st me back

definition | flag | picrew

#arospecfanworksweek #tolkienedit #oneringnet #ilmare #arien #ilmarien #silm #silmarillion #aro tolkien #asaw 2023 #asaw23 #asaw #my edit #my moodboards #prideboards #my writing #my fic #my poetry #tefain nin #aro blogging #id in alt text

[doodle-pops]

Hi there!

May I please ask for how the Maiar would react to a reader who is a halfblood/demigod/demigoddess (similar to those in the Percy Jackson series)?

Thank you!

a/n: I liked this ask 😁

"So, you're similar to me, but you just call your higher powers...Gods? And they are your parents. So this God Zeus...is like Manwe and your father. Does this in a way make Manwe your father here?" Curious and eager for you to explain the concepts of how the Gods operate over there and how you're one of their child/children. Of the Maiar, they would associate the Valar as your personified parent in another world due to the similarities they share. Following you around and even taking you to meet the respective Vala that matches your parent to communicate. Know that they're going to show off your powers to just them and are going to hype you up.

TILION, EONWE, Arien, Ilmare

They would understand that you're powerful (depending on which God is your parent) but find it impossible to believe that there are other higher powers out there aside from themselves. What you call Gods is what they call Eru and not the Valar, so they find it odd how you're associating your parent to their Vala and making a connection. Would take it as a sign to challenge you and see if you are truly powerful as you say you are since you're a child of a God and want if they are comparable to what they would consider strong for a child of a Vala or Maia. "Let's see if you are what you say you are..."

Osse, MAIRON

#reactions #ainur #mairon x reader #osse x reader #ilmare x reader #arien x reader #eonwe x reader #tilion x reader #doodlepops responds

[weezlbot]

tag yourself: maiar

eonwe. feathers. “nesting” behavior. jewelry. turquoise and aquamarine. sunshine. cool breezes. blue skies. light rain. you’d have wings if you could. birds of all kinds. even the weird ones like vultures and cassowaries. authority likes you. teacher’s pet. loose, ornate, colorful clothing. 

ilmare. moths. caterpillars. you’d also have wings if you could. stargazing. constellations. the moon. silver. bats. glitter. LED lights. sparkles. mist. liking women. you probably raise caterpillars, or have at one point, or want to. baking bread. honey. sparkles. cool white light. 

melian. deep greens. wearing the pants in your relationships. giving advice that no one listens to. pale blues. dance. singing. nightingales. starlings. blackbirds. hydrangeas. globe thistles. mist. fog. shade. optical illusions. studying forestry. studying politics. isolationism. protecting your own. suspicion of strangers. 

olorin/gandalf. having a fireworks license, maybe even making your own fireworks. soft clothes. growing your hair long. the weight of responsibility. wishing you had more help than you do. you’ve got a lot of friends and you love them all. ninety percent of everything you say is sarcasm. teaching others. studying everything. candles. pipes. fireplaces. recliners. knitted rugs and blankets. soft yarn. 

curumo/saruman. craftsmanship. bad taste in friends. you want power, prestige and success. morals are a little flimsy. secretly, you idolize deviants and “bad boys.” you befriend terrible people and pathetic little guys exclusively. black iron. metalworking. you respect the arts. being a physical learner. making stuff. calluses. work-worn hands. 

aiwendil/radagast. exotic pets. normal pets. large pets. small pets. pets pets pets. loving animals. you’re either vegetarian or you really don’t like to think about where your food comes from. volunteer work with animals. you don’t mind dirt. the smell of the forest. mushrooms. you can grow anything. you can raise anything. you can cultivate anything. 

osse. having a temper. thunderstorms. swimming. sharp teeth. rough skin. strong hands. rope. shells. brass instruments. horns. rum. deep in your heart, you love soft, tender things, but you worry they’ll tear and dissolve under your grip. rocky beaches. salt. broken glass. 

uinen. being even-keeled. long walks on the beach. sunshine. collecting shells. pearls. sandals. white girl beach aesthetic. soft skin. sunbathing. swimming. warm rain. sand. coral. flutes. singing. xylophones. sea glass. white woman drinks with little umbrellas in them. 

alatar. the joy of the journey. you’re impulse driven. easily distracted. you have a best friend. you love them. you’re on an Adventure with them. dogs. horses. you have a little weenie dog. he likes to dig after beasts in the ground--bunnies, chipmunks, badgers, raccoons. flowering meadows. deep forests. trackless desert. mountains. roads that lead anywhere. roads that lead nowhere. 

pallando. travelling with your best friend. the wild places of the world. self sufficiency. you had a purpose, you think, but it wasn’t enough for you, so you left to find something more. Retrievers and shepherd dogs are the best.  trackless desert. wide plains. mountains. you want to see it all.

arien. cats. fluffy and round. sunbathing. summertime. berries. wildflowers. pastries. bonfires. candles. open flames. plants. you probably have a garden. lingering warmth. the sun that burns through fog and cloud. blue skies. leaves. thorns. don’t get too close. wait, please do. 

tilion. wolves. silver. night. cool weather. light winds. moonstones. star gems--sapphires, rubies, etcetera. you like wolfdogs, huskies, shepherds, all the medium-large dogs with herding instincts. moonstones. fog. mist. the far, hazy places of the world. I’d like to get closer to you. 

sauron. you’re into some weird shit. knives, whips, and chains, for the aesthetic. working with your hands. being the darling of your superiors. liking jewelry, especially rings. making your own jewelry. candles. lanterns. open flames. black iron. cold, piercing steel. copper. metalwork. blood on skin. wine. sharp knives. burning heat. freezing cold. so many extremes. 

the balrogs. liking whips and chains as an aesthetic. living on the edge. feeling like your superiors favor someone else above you. shade. basements. you either actively spelunk or you’d like to. fireworks. preferably illegal ones. caves. mountains. you’ve got a few people you like, but not many. cool black stone. leather. 

#blood #eonwe #ilmare #melian #gandalf #olorin #saruman #radagast #aiwendil #curumo #osse #uinen #alatar #pallando #arien #tilion #sauron #balrog #tag yourself #tag your friends #tag your faves #aesthetic #more of these #I just realized that out of 14 maiar 3 of them are maiar of Orome #that's like... a lot #technically there are a few different versions for who exactly alatar and pallando served #but I like the maiar of Orome one #this info is in unfinished tales if you're curious #lmk and I can send you a pdf

[cobaltjellyfish]

At one point someone (curumo) got Aiwendil absolutely smashed and then someone else (olorin) bet he probably couldn't shape this really cool animal/plant while the valar were distracted (by mairon and eonwe), and that's why middle earth animals can do weird things like Beorn's dogs walking on their hind legs all the time .

#tolkein #silmarillion #maiar shenanigans #maiar looking like calm serene servants of the valar to elves but actually theyre all batshit crazy in their downtime #aiwendil and mairon learned to fly when eonwe threw them off taniquetil #curumo and osse created underwater volcanoes in a pissing contest #eonwe ilmare and arien discovered they could set fire to things really easily if they wanted to and proceded to burn down irmos garden

[cilil]

Femslash February

⬡ Prompt: Your voice & who did this to you (rare pair bingo) | Arien x Ilmarë ⬡ Synopsis: Hearing Arien's cry for help, Ilmarë rushes to her side. ⬡ Warnings: Aftermath of assault (this is set in the alternate version of the story in which Melkor attempts to marry Arien) ⬡ Drabble

It was her voice. It could be no other. 

And her scream nearly tore the heavens apart. 

Ilmarë hurried to find her. The sun would have to wait; her lady would surely restrain it in the meantime. 

Arien was more important. 

She found her adrift in Ilmen, her fire flickering and weak, her fána bruised and injured. 

"Beloved, what happened to you?" Ilmarë gathered her in her arms, shielding her form with her own. 

Yet Arien shook her head, the horrors she had endured too terrible to voice. 

Ilmarë could feel the Dark One's touch on her, but said nothing. 

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @angbangbaby @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to @singleteapot

#arien #ilmare #ilmarë #arien x ilmare #wlw #drabble #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #cílil writes #my writing #femslash february

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

Sky Shinies, V2

For @aspecardaweek Day 3: Across the A-spectrum, I decided to redraw the second piece of Tolkien fanart I ever posted, two years ago for this very event! Check back in 2025 to see if I keep up the pattern.

Since Ainur are basically angels I've decided they're all pretty much ace (with varying degrees of interest- Melian) and arospec if only because they don't conceptualize relationships in the same way we do, and the majority of elves are demi/grayspec.

Arien: Sapphic oriented aroace, recipromantic

Earendil: Bi demi-rose

Tilion: Achillean oriented aroace, lithoromantic, aroflux

[id. A full-body pencil drawing of Arien, Earendil, and Tilion. Arien is inspired by a lion, with digitigrade legs, paw pads, and claws. She has a crown of horns and fire burning on her head, limbs, and the tip of her tail. Tilion has bat ears and feet with a leaf-shaped nose, horns curling around his ears and another set twisting upwards, and dark blotches on his skin. Their arms are linked as they shoot finger guns. Earendil stands in front of them, head barely reaching their elbows as he waves with one hand and holds a telescope in the other. He's black, with braids pulled back in a ponytail and a small beard. The silmaril shines from a circlet on his forehead, and he wears Ancalagon's skin as an armored vest and skirting. end id.]

Rambles, comparison, and closeups under the cut!

[id. Three closeups on Arien, Earendil, and Tilion's faces respectively to show details. Arien has freckles and her eyes appear to be glowing behind her sunglasses, Earendil has eyebags, faint laugh lines, and scars, as well as individually lined scales on his vest, and Tilion has fangs, earrings. and diamond-shaped pupils with black sclerae. end id.]

[id: a comparison of the full drawing above to the original, which ends around Earendil's knees but otherwise has near-identical composition. Arien looks significantly more human, Tilion is missing his horns, and Earendil is white with a less structured outfit. end id.]

I was mostly going off of memory redrawing this, which is why their poses are slightly different but honestly I prefer this even if it isn't strictly accurate. Winner for biggest design overhaul is a tie between Arien and Earendil, because excluding Tilion's horns (which I would have originally included if I had remembered Tilion literally means "horned one") he's hardly changed, though tragically I took away some of his jewelry for practicality.

Past!Earendil's unintentional Michael Jackson nose haunts me, though I do kinda miss his stupid wave hair. I'm much happier with his dragonscale vest thingy now (though I realized too late that Ancalagon's scales would be much larger, oh well), I've had time to think through the various elven cultural aesthetics and I'm very pleased with his multi-combo of cultures that still gives him the vibes I wanted. Stupid pointy-toed noldorin boots are so hard to draw right but I love them so much

Arien has also been overhauled but given that they change how humanoid their fana looks depending on if they're hanging around incarnates or not the original is still technically close to that form? Horn crown and significantly more fire has been added in homage to her balrog siblings alongside everything else, but like Tilion her outfit change is minimal and the vibes stay the same.

Unrelated but a funny side note: as I have become increasingly aware of Pokemon Knowledge, I have realized that Solgaleo and Lunala unintentionally map really really well onto my Arien and Tilion. Yes this is because lion/day/sun | bat/night/moon symbolism is obvious, but I'm leaning into it. Earendil works shockingly well as Ultra Necrozma, too.

#aspecardaweek #arien #tilion #earendil #my art #this is my first time id-ing my art so i hope it's decent #arien being genderfluid makes orientation complicated but i think sapphic still suits them best even as auron #and tilion is still achillean even though he doesn't lose all alterous feelings for him the moment he becomes arien again #they're both just. so so so gay. #tilion is genderflux as well as aroflux- it's related to his moon gig #ainur gender and attraction is hard #im not gonna chart out the whole sky polycule in the tags but the important ones to this are #arien is in a qpr with ilmare and a romantic relationship with thuringwethil #tilion is in a qpr with eonwe and a romantic relationship with salmar (lost romantic feelings but doesn't mind the relationship) #earendil is obviously married to elwing and hes deeply in love but the two also have something vaguely queerplatonic going on with eonwe

[yandere-ainur-confessions]

would you write a headcanon of how valar and maiar fall for darling and start to be obsessed with them? (did I do it right?? I'm so nervous lol)

❪ ♡ ❫ ── 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰, 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 - 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 . . .

  ♡. 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

they remember it so vividly. the day that you walked into their life. passing by them in all your perfectness. your beauty, your demeanour, the small little smile that you gave them once you caught their unintentional stare. many would call it just a chance encounter. the gardens, a banquet, a mere passing interaction - but oh, you will scorn their mind for all eternity. did you feel it too? the connection that they felt? the song of your fëa, surely it was singing for them? it will drive them mad and they will be eager to meet you again. when you recognise them, their heart would sore. so you did feel the same? oh, if only you knew what you had gotten yourself into. they'll make it their life's mission to learn every little thing about you. stalking, you say? no, they're just lovingly learning more about their soulmate. now they are convinced that you are meant to be theirs. and it certainly would be unfortunate if you didn't think so too

𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒘𝒆, 𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒌𝒂𝒔, ulmo, vana, 𝒗𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒂, yavanna, 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒏, aiwendil, 𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒆, luilire

♡. 𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔

you were most likely one of the few people outside of their family to show them true kindness. it felt like they were on air. that day that you aided them with something, or defended their name from others. they remember how fast their heart beat, how their song shifted to a thousand symphonies as they gazed at you with wonder. to think. . . that someone actually cared. from that day they grew hungry for your affection and favour. eager to seek you out and hope that you would continue to show them the kindness and attention that they were greedy for. you made them feel so. . . complete. they've never loved someone so wholeheartedly, so completely, until the day your touch grazed their hand and you smiled at them so warmly. they hope that you feel the same and will do just about anything to gain your attention, even if it's subtly. and should you place your attention elsewhere? you'll regret it.

𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐, 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒌𝒐𝒓, aule, nessa, 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏, curumo, gothmog, osse, 𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒏, almion, 𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒆 

♡. 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆

they have known you for the longest time. it feels like they've loved you for even longer. they are one of your closest companions, the person that you turn to when in need of aid. the one that you cry on when you're sad. the one that has been with you through every good and each bad. they boast in such a fact - that they know you so intimately and that they are the person that you rely on. . . but there is a deeper sense of longing within them, a yearning for something more. they feel possessive over you. after all, aren't they your everything like you are to them? why can't you see that the two of you are meant to be together? every time you bring up someone else they feel a bit of their sanity chipping away. they'll make you see how much you need them. how much they love you. after all, if you didn't feel the same, why did you lead them on? you have to take responsibility. they'll make sure of it, make sure that you know who you belong to.

𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒐, orome, 𝒏𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒂, este, 𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒘𝒆, ilmare, arien, melian, 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒎𝒆, 𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆, erulisse, 𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒆

#·⊰ ꒰🥀꒱ 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 ៸៸ valar ─ ♡. #·⊰ ꒰🥀꒱ 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 ៸៸ maiar ─ ♡. #ainur #silm #tolkien #x reader #manwë #melkor #mairon #irmo #eonwe #tilion #varda #oromë #yavanna #tolkien ocs #the silmarilion oc #navëquen #almion #melmë #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere #dark content #tw stalking #tw possessive behavior #stalking #possessive behaviour #imagines

[swanmaids]

heyyy what are your favorite femslash Tolkien ships? looking for some recs :))

Hi, good question! My actual favourite is the toxic nasty girl dynamic between Luthien and Curufin's wife that exists only in my head lol. but with some slightly more canonical basis I enjoy:

Miriel/Indis

Eowyn/Arwen

Goldberry/Lady of the Blue Brooch

Earwen/Anaire (though I also care a lot about Earwen/Finarfin so I prefer them as a triad)

Galadriel/Melian

Galadriel/Luthien

Tar-Miriel/Uinen

Erendis/Uinen

Luthien/Thuringwethil

Haleth/Thuringwethil

Aredhel/Thuringwethil

Aredhel/Haleth canon divergence au

Morwen/Aerin

Finduilas/Nienor canon divergence au

Haleth/ Bodyguard oc(s)

Nerdanel/Indis

Findis/Elemmire

Nimrodel/Mithrellas

Miriel/Vaire

Arien/Ilmare

Evranin/Gereth

Iminye/Tatie/Enelye

I know some of these are just names, but like, who cares. There's awesome art and or fic for all of them. And I'm sure I'm missing some pairings sooo, anyone feel free to add on

#asks #tolkien femslash

[erundur-adanion]

Elfçede Cinsiyet İsimleri

En azından biraz yardımcı olabileceğimi düşünüyorum. Tabii ki, bu evrensel bir kural değil, ancak Tolkien'in kullandığı isimlerin çoğu, karakterin dilinde cinsiyetleri hakkında ipucu veren kelimeler içeriyor. Yine, bu her ad için yardımcı olmaz, ancak en azından işleri biraz daha basitleştirebilirsiniz. Aşağıda, sizin ve arkadaşınızın erkek ve kadın isimlerini hızlı bir şekilde ayırt etmenize yardımcı olabilecek elf dillerinin ortak ad bileşenlerini içeren bir liste (dillere göre ayrılmış birkaç liste) derledim.

SINDARİN - KADIN

* “-eth”, “-el” ve “-il” temel dişil eklerdir.

* “-ien” ve “-iel”, “kızı” anlamına gelen son eklerdir. Örneğin, "Luthien" veya "Galadriel"

* "-ril" ve "dis", "kadın yapan" anlamına gelir.

* ”gwen“, ”bakire, bakire” anlamına gelir. Örneğin, "Arwen".

* "neth" ve "dess", "genç kadın" anlamına gelir.

* "bereth", "kraliçe" anlamına gelir. Örneğin, "Elbereth".

SINDARİN - ERKEK

* “-on” temel bir eril sonektir. Örneğin, "Daeron".

* “-ion”, “oğlu” anlamına gelen bir sonektir. Örneğin, "Ecthelion".

* "-ron" ve "dir", "erkek yapan" anlamına gelir. Örneğin, "Brandır".

* “aran”, “kral” anlamına gelir. Örneğin, "Aragorn".

* “hir”, “efendi/efendi” anlamına gelir. Örneğin, “Barahir”.

QUENYA - KADIN

* “-ie” ve “-ien” genel kadın ekleridir. Örneğin, "Amarie" ve "Arien".

* “-e”, “-isse”, “-inde”, “-lle”, “-me” ve “-re”, “kadın yapan” anlamına gelir. Örneğin, "İrisse", "Serinde" veya "Ilmare".

* "wende", "kız/bayan" anlamına gelir. Örneğin, “Nerwende”.

* "nisse" veya "nis", "kadın" anlamına gelir. Örneğin, "Artan"

* "yelde" veya "-iel", "kız" anlamına gelir. Örneğin, "Mirel"

* "tari", "kraliçe" anlamına gelir. Örneğin, "Elentari".

QUENYA - ERKEK

* “-on” genel bir eril sonektir. Örneğin, "Ancalagon".

* “-o”, “-no”, “-indo”, “-mo” ve “-ro” “erkek yapan” anlamına gelir. Örneğin, "Maitimo", "Turindo" veya "Feanaro".

* "-ion", "oğlu" anlamına gelir. Örneğin, “Anarion”.

* "tar", "efendi" anlamına gelir. Örneğin, "Annatar".

Bu listeler elbette mükemmel değil, ancak işleri ilerletmeye yardımcı olmalılar. Başka bir dille (örneğin, Adunaic veya Rohirric) çalışıyorsanız, tavsiyem Tolkien Gateway gibi bir web sitesinde belirli bir karakter aramak olacaktır. Profilleri, temel olarak adlarının anlamını parçalayan “Etimoloji” üzerine bir bölüm içerecek. Şanslıysanız, bu isimlerde de benzer cinsiyet ipuçlarını bulacaksınız.

KAYNAKLAR: Birkaç ismin etimolojisine bakan bir ton Tolkien Ağ Geçidi sayfası. Ayrıca realelvish.net, Tolkien'in çeşitli dillerindeki isimlerle ilgili birkaç faydalı sayfa içerir.

[lightdancer1]

An excerpt from an upcoming chapter of the War of Eregion:

The air droned around her as Sinmara strode to Celebrimbor and then with a deliberate effort it was not the molten-shaped monster of her own thought but Ilmare, who was meant to be one of the rulers of all the Maiar. So beautiful and splendid was the loveliness of her true form beyond that of Aurelian, Mother of Lies that Celebrimbor fell to his knees weeping in awe.

The Doomsayer spoke to you your fate. No aid shall the Valar lend you in your quest and against a Power of this world you shall not prevail.

Her words were harsh and guttural, the tongue in later generations called Enochian and in its true name, Valarin. And yet he understood them by some fell enchantment.

The Star-Kindler was cast beyond the Doors of Night. Now I am the Power of this world, the Princess of the Power of the Air. I shall set my throne above the stars of the Star-Kindler, I shall rule from the mount of the Assembly of the Khazad.

Her armored hand glowing with that beautiful light began to clasp around his throat.

I am the Princess of the Power of this world, the bright and morning star. I would love nothing less than to use Nightfall and obliterate the last traces of this realm but that's the problem with you Quendi. Too clever, too lost in your own mystery. These Rings of Power you've made, even the three that escaped.....

Her smile was beautiful and yet it was the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen.

I want them, and I will have them. So you will die as your kind lived, soulless, weeping, and ashamed. Gil-Galad fell in Hithlum. Even those stories about the End of the Time of the Gods, should they be true about Arwen Arien.....

Her hands were now around his throat, the gauntlets oddly cool for a being that shone with the heat of starlight.

I don't need the fires of Nightfall to kill the little bitch. In the end it is still a sword sharp enough and strong enough to shatter stone. Die now, last son of the line of Feanor, and know your kind have ever only been servants of the outer light and the madness from the stars.

#the war of eregion #sinmara of muspeldor