#beren and luthien

Silmarillion - Beren and Luthien

✨Shop this painting as prints in my etsy shop -> https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/566589123/quality-print-silmarillion-illustration✨

Here is finally my painting of Beren and Luthien. I thought I’d post it here myself so no one else would need to. I like to be in control like that!

I finished it late August, but I didn’t feel confident publishing it as my scanner highlighted the horrible exture of the watercolour paper I used. I really need some suggestions for a better, less textured watercolor paper which does not diminish the quality or the weight of the paper, if anyone know of any!

I scanned it again today and thougth it didnt look too bad, so I went with it. 

I hope you like it!

It was a very enjoyable painting to make, gave me very little trouble and I really had fun, so I hope to be able to make more like this. I also realy liked exploring a bit more saturated colourscheme, as it dawned on me this summer than I have no clue how to work with colors, and I really ought to practice it more.

Let me know what you think, and head over to my etsy to browse this and many others of my illustrations for Tolkien’s legendarium. The few of you who follow me on Ig may also know that I am working on a very big Tolkien piece, which I CANT WAIT to finish, so Im very inspired lately and It feels good, even watching Lord of The Rings tonight, first time this year, so Im really falling back into my Tolkien spell! Might even reread the books soon!^^ 

Maybe you can suggest the focus of my next painting, if you have any wishes! Turns out there are too many to choose, and I sorely needs some inspiration! 

Love,
Iggy ❤️

GUYS. I DID IT. I FINISHED THAT STORYBOARD TRAILER THINGY FOR THE LAY OF LEITHIAN

I’ve nearly done!!! A full minute!!! On the sketchiest, most inconsistent character design, yet way-too-much-effort-was-put-in storyboard-trailer!!! Nearly the entire “what is the main conflict.jpg” bit is done.

Behold, and stay tuned for more overly efforted sketchy dubious anatomy!

some of my fave “stills” from my slowly becoming legibleprettier attempt to storyboard a leithian trailer

If the lay of leithian had a trailer, would it start out like this….?

(A piece of a smol project of mine)

(music is Yearning Hearts by Bianca Ban)

Chapter IX: The Reckoning (Pt. III)

The entry of Lúthien and Beren was nothing less than spectacular. From every corner of Menegroth, cheers erupted. I stood with Mîrwen as King Thingol and Queen Melian greeted their daughter on the bridge. Looking around, I saw a joy on the faces of the elves I had not seen in  years. They had embraced a new hope even as evil lurked in the shadows.

Before my thoughts could wander further, King Things and Queen Melian approached us; their beloved daughter and her great love behind them. In the eyes of Lúthien—though her beauty had not faded—there was an inexplicable sadness.

As we followed them into the Great Hall, the celebration continued. Once upon his throne, King Thingol and his queen inquired about their perilous journey. Beren had yielded nothing save the loss of his hand and the respect of King Thingol who seemed moved by his efforts for the love of Lúthien. Therefore, he gave to Beren his heart’s desire—the hand of his daughter.

Suddenly, there was movement from the back of the room. It was Mablung and Beleg—their faces twisted in fear.

“Your Majesty,” Mablung began. “There is an evil that has come.”

“What are you saying,” Thingol asked.

“Morgoth has many eyes, Your Majesty,” Beleg answered. “These are upon the head of a wolf.”

Gasps of terror filled the air as I searched the room for Oropher. When I saw him, I could feel my heart find its rhythm again.

“Do you know what is happening,” I asked my son as he approached.

“I know nothing,” he answered. “My men have been directed to protect Menegroth at all cost.”

I noticed that Thingol and Beren were walking with Mablung and Beleg toward the gates. Elmo ran behind his brother. I was too far to hear what one said to the other but I could see that Elmo was distraught. As Menegroth rattled with preparation for another encounter with the creatures of Angband, I began to understand the words spoken to me by Valdôr in a vision.

Darkness will fall again upon this world and last many seasons.

I followed the chaos to the main gates. I watched a party of hunters led by Thingol and Beren walk into the depths of the forest.

“Made a bride only to become a widow,” a voice said nearby. I turned to see Galadriel.

“You speak of Lúthien,” I said.

She turned to me—her face stoic and her eyes set aflame with the knowledge of ten thousand years.

“There are more brides than what you see, Orothôn,” she said. “Each one shall lose a bridegroom in this darkness before all is said and done.”

She walked away slowly. I did not understand her words.

“All there is left to do is wait,” I heard Êlengolas say as he placed his hand on my shoulder.

“It would be nice if we knew what we were waiting for,” I said.

“We are waiting for uncertainty,” he started. “It is what we are always waiting for; for better or for worse. There is nothing certain as we live. Only death gives certainty.”

I found a brief solace in that moment. After a time of staring into the night, I headed to my chambers. My thoughts were dulled by confusion. What would come to us in the withering hours that would follow I knew would begin the fall of Doriath.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 05-11-2021

Chapter IX: The Reckoning (Pt. I)

The court began buzzing with delight with news of Lúthien’s return. Iarûr was the only one among us whose demeanor remained solemn. When I had the opportunity later in the evening, I found him in his chambers alone at his writing table. I entered cautiously through is opened door.

“Pleas come in, Orothôn,” he said without looking up form his work.

“I am not interrupting your work,” I asked.

“No,” he said looking up. “There was no work to be done this hour. I was putting my thoughts down for my own remembrance of this day.”

“It is this day I wished to speak to you about,” I said.

“I know,” he sewered. “You are quite perceptive. If you thought the news of this day troubled me, then you were correct.”

“It is wonderful news,” I said. “The return of the king’s daughter will make this kingdom whole once more.”

“You are naive in your optimism,” Iarûr said sternly. “It will serve you well on the darkest night but in the light of day, you must acknowledge reality.”

“I do not understand.”

“N one returns from Angband as they entered,” he said softly. “I can only imagine the horrors of the Lady Lúthien must have seen. No one can witness such evil without losing part of themselves.”

“The king will be happy once more,” I said almost pleading with him.

“Yes, he will,” he agreed. “But it will be short-lived, Orothôn. I am afraid this world will never be the same again. It is changing, my friend. The elements of good and evil have intermingled creating seasons not so easily discernible.”

I could say nothing—I just stood there thinking about those words as they seared a hole in my heart. Now I feared what may come to us upon the return of Lúthien and Beren.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 07-06-2020

Images: ©2001, 2002, 2003. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter VIII: The Rise of the Fall (Pt. IV)

The rumblings from Angband began as the sound distant thunder—the infrequent beating of the soul-less heart. Though nothing came from its depths as before, we were nonetheless well-equipped for battle. As time wore on, we became accustomed to the rumble. Iarûr worried we had become lax in our preparation for an attack from Morgoth. It had been a long period of calm at the borders of Doriath. The Girdle of Melian still protected us from even the subtlest changes in the world around us.

There were Men now and they were building kingdoms of their own. The naugrim had more contact with their race it was said whenever they came past our borders. King Thingol remained distraught over the loss of his beloved daughter even as he tried to resume his royal duties. He seemed unaware of the comings and goings of the court—much less of life beyond the gates of Menegroth.

We went about our lives with little understanding that our isolation was about to come to an abrupt end.

The day began as always—I rose to find myself alone as Mîrwen had let to attend to her duties for the queen. I went about my day in the library with Súlimë. After we finished, we made our way toward the main vestibule  where we would part ways until dinner.

Before the had our chance, I noticed Eldôr and Oropher standing inside the gates. Oropher said something to Beleg before he went on his way.

“Oropher,” I began. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, of course,” he answered. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Not this day,” Eldôr added. “I would not presume to know what goes on near the borders.”

“I beg your pardon,” Súlimë asked.

“He speaks of the wanderings of the naugrim,” Oropher said. “They seem rather busy these days.”

“With what,” I asked curiously.

“You can never be too sure with them,” he said. “I have never seen creatures so industrious.”

“I am sure it is nothing they cannot handle,” I said thinking of Ónarr. 

“They have tildes they have seen Daeron wandering in the East,” Eldôr said.

“Daeron,” I asked. “Was he not with Thingol when receiving Celebrían?”

“Yes,” Oropher said. “But she is no longer an elfling, you realize.

“Has it truly been that long,” Súlimë asked.

“Time passes as silently as it does quickly,” he said.

It was then that I realized how wise my son had become. Just as we were to retire for the evening with the setting of the sun, two guards came running toward us.

“What news have you,” Eldôr asked.

“They have come into Doriath,” one of the said catching his breath.

“When,” Oropher asked.

“I do not know when but they have journeyed long,” the other answered.

“Go,” Eldôr commanded. “Send word to Mablung quickly.”

The two elves moved swiftly past us and out of sight.

“Of whom do they speak,” I asked.

“Lúthien and her Beren,” Oropher answered. “They have returned.”–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 07-06-2020

Images: ©2012, 2013, 2014. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: The Unexpected Journey, The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug, The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter VIII: The Rise of the Fall (Pt. II)

It was much later after Eöl had left that I learned  why he ventured into Doriath. He was repaying a debt known only to him and King Things. Only a few days later would I learn more.

Iarûr had sent me on an errand to the armory to give a scroll to Finëar. Once I had arrived, I saw a familiar face.

“Ónarr,” I said, surprised. “I have not seen you since the dreaded war of the Dark Year.”

“Good to see you again, Orothôn,” he said as he took my hand. “Even one life spared among many lost is a blessing.”

“Finëar,” I said, handing him the scroll. “From Iarûr.”

“Thank you,” he said taking it and began reading.

“How have you been,” Ónarr continued. “My condolences to Eldôr on the loss of his father.”

“I will send word to him,” I answered. “It will lighten his heart to know.”

“I have not seen many of your kind for some time,” he said. “Not since the arrival of those new creatures.”

“You refer to the Atani,” I asked.

“If that is what you call them,” he laughed. “They are a cunning lot. They are quick-witted if I may add.”

“I am afraid my time with their kind is limited at best. I have not seen one in quite awhile.”

Finëar cleared his throat—I could tell he was bothered by our conversation.

“It says that the king wishes to place that gift for safe keeping in the armory,” Finëar said. “Has he gone mad?”

“I beg your pardon,” I asked.

“That sword Eöl gave to the king,” he answered. “Did he not tell you why you were sent?”

“I am afraid not, Finëar,” I said.

“You speak of Gurthang,” Ónarr asked.

“Come again,” Finëar asked him.

“The sword,” Ónarr answered. “The Elf-Smith Eöl forged it himself. I saw him do it with my own two eyes.”

“I am to assume you helped to create it,” Finëar asked glaring at the dwarf in disdain.

“My duties lie elsewhere,” Ónarr said. “Though I know my way around the fires, I am a master of stone. Mîm might have a notion.”

“There is a name I have not heard in a time,” Finëar said, calming down. “Was its creation ordered by Azaghâl?”

“If His Majesty requested such a thing be made, I have not heard of it.”

“I suppose you would not, Ónarr,” Finëar said. “I know  much your time is sacrosanct these days. How is Finrod, if I may inquire?”

“Quite well,” Ónarr said. “He sends his greetings to you.

I sensed something unusual in his voice as it grew softer. I felt he knew something but wished to keep it from us.

“Orothôn,” Finëar said to me. “Tell Iarûr I shall harbor this sword for now. When I find a place for it, let he be the only one to bring it to me. I have little doubt that such a weapon in the wrong hands could be catastrophic. Especially one so forged by Eöl. Who knows what machinations go through his mind.”

I nodded. I looked again at Ónarr.

“It was a pleasure to see you again,” I said.

“For me as well,” he answered.

I turned and left. In the hall, I nearly ran into Saeros.

“Many pardons,” he said. “Has Ónarr left?”

“No,” I answered curiously. “He is with Finëar now.”

“Thank you,” he said hurriedly as he went into the armory. Something piqued my curiosity. I leaned against the wall in the darkness to listen.

“What word have you from Telchar,” Saeros asked. “Has he not forged many weapons of late?”

“Aye, he has,” Ónarr said. “Most of which I am not privy to though one such weapon is in the hands of one they call Beren.”

“Have you seen this Beren,” Finëar asked. “Where is he?”

“I would not know that,” Ónarr answered. “It has been a long time since I laid eyes on him. Where he was going he will not return.”

“I suppose not,” Saeros said.

“You wish to know about the King’s daughter,” Ónarr asked.

“You know where she is,” Finëar asked excitedly.

“I saw her once, but no more,” he answered. “She took to the wind you might well say.”

“Even the wind has direction,” Saeros snapped.

“So it does,” Ónarr quipped. “And neither she nor the wind were going in mine.”

“What are you doing,” a voice said. I turned to see Êlengolas. I put my finger to my mouth.

“Well,” Finëar continued. “Should either one find their way anywhere near you, I suggest you send word to King Thingol as quickly as possible.”

“I will gladly do as you command,” Ónarr said.

I quickly led Êlengolas down the hall into darkness as I heard footsteps heading toward the door. The three left the armory together without suspicion.

“You realize it is unseemly to listen to the private business of others,” Êlengolas said.

“When you stop doing it, then tell me again how unseemly it is,” I answered.

“Was that Ónarr of Nogrod,” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “He has seen Lúthien.”

“When?”

“He did not say.”

“Orothôn, the whole point of secretly overhearing private business is to actually glean some useful information.”

“I believe she has followed Beren on his quest.”

Êlengolas looked at me, his brow raised.

“Could you be more specific,” he asked.

“Êlengolas.”

“Where else would she have gone,” he asked. “If such an event had happened, then she will return upon the news of his death.”

“You think a messenger from Angband is going to send her word to Menegroth saying, ‘We regret to inform you we have killed the beloved of the King’s daughter.’”

“It is Angband,” Êlengolas began. “They would not be so inclined to be courteous.”

“It is also a place no one returns from,” I said. “All I am saying is that she is still with us.”

“Not if she followed Beren on his quest,” Êlengolas said. “Do not tell anyone—especially your wife. She will tell half the ladies in the court and create a false sense of hope.”

“False sense of hope,” I asked.

“Yes,” he began. “If she indeed has followed him anywhere, there is little hope she will return. Not without him. Come, it is almost time for dinner.”

I sighed and reluctantly followed him toward the Great Hall. I could not help wondering what Ónarr did not say and how much he knew.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 11-28-2019

Images: ©2001, 2002, 2003. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. All Rights Reserved.