Illustration for the character design challenge with the theme: Middle Earth. I decided to do my favorite elf lady, Lúthien, and her trusted friend Húan.
The next day at the hour of sunset Aragorn walked alone in the woods, and his heart was high within him; and he sang, for he was full of hope and the world was fair. And suddenly even as he sang he saw a maiden walking on a greensward among the white stems of the birches; and he halted amazed, thinking that he had strayed into a dream, or else that he had received the gift of the Elf-minstrels, who can make the things of which they sing appear before the eyes of those that listen.
For Aragorn had been singing a part of the Lay of Lúthien which tells of the meeting of Lúthien and Beren in the forest of Neldoreth. And behold! there Lúthien walked before his eyes in Rivendell, clad in a mantle of silver and blue, fair as the twilight in Elven-home; her dark hair strayed in a sudden wind, and her brows were bound with gems like stars.
For a moment Aragorn gazed in silence, but fearing that she would pass away and never be seen again, he called to her crying, Tinúviel, Tinúviel! even as Beren had done in the Elder Days long ago.
Then the maiden turned to him and smiled, and she said: ‘Who are you? And why do you call me by that name?’
And he answered: 'Because I believed you to be indeed Lúthien Tinúviel, of whom I was singing. But if you are not she, then you walk in her likeness.’
'So many have said,’ she answered gravely. 'Yet her name is not mine. Though maybe my doom will be not unlike hers.’
–J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Appendix A, “The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen”
He sped towards the hillock green, the lissom limbs, the dancing sheen; he leapt upon the grassy hill his arms with loveliness to fill: his arms were empty, and she fled; away, away her white feet sped. But as she went he swiftly came and called her with the tender name of nightingales in elvish tongue, that all the woods now sudden rung: ‘Tinúviel! Tinúviel!’ And clear his voice was as a bell; 'Tinúviel! Tinúviel!’ His voice such love and longing filled one moment stood she, fear was stilled; one moment only; like a flame he leaped towards her as she stayed and caught and kissed that elfin maid.
As love there woke in sweet surprise the starlight trembled in her eyes. A! Lúthien! A! Lúthien! more fair than any child of Men; O! loveliest maid of Elfinesse, what madness does thee now possess! A! lissom limbs and shadowy hair and chaplet of white snowdrops there; O! starry diadem and white pale hands beneath the pale moonlight! She left his arms and slipped away just at the breaking of the day.
–J.R.R. Tolkien, The History of Middle-earth III: The Lays of Beleriand, “The Lay of Leithian”, Canto III
Another highly vulnerable group in situations like these, and another one I will illustrate a Tolkien character, landscape or OC of your choice for in return for a direct donation (by donating directly to the crowdfund link, not through paying me! Just message/reply what illustration you would like, and donate independently).
See pinned post for examples of my work.
The fundraiser was organised by LLM students at the Centre for Disability Law and Policy at the National University of Ireland.
I remember a description of Luthien wearing a lilies embroidered robe, with white roses on her hair. So I made some changes to one of my Luthien dresses, Inspired by the Renaissance Italian robes.
There Dairon grieving often stood in sorrow for the captive of the wood, and melodies made upon his flute leaning against a grey tree-root. Lúthien would from her windows stare and see him far under piping there, and she forgave his betraying word for the music and the grief she heard, and only Dairon would she let across her threshold foot to set.
Lay of Leithian, lines 1398-1407
As Lúthien prepares to make her escape from Hírilorn, Daeron visits her for the last time.
my favorite thing about beren is that he’s so incredibly badass, he single-handedly (hah) took out a fuck ton of orcs, lived by himself in haunted, morgoth-controlled dorthonion for years, morgoth wanted him dead or captured just as much as fingon, who was king at the time and had also stolen his favorite prisoner, yet orcs were so terrified of him, this lone man, that they actively avoided him instead of going after him like morgoth told them to
and yet, next to lúthien he’s just. this pathetic little man, practically a damsel in distress, who cuts the silmaril from the crown after his girlfriend does all the hard work of putting morgoth and his entire court to sleep
they are the ultimate power couple and i love them both more than words can say
