“I was young and I looked on his flame, and now I am old and lost. He was young and his flame leaped towards me, but he turned away, and he is young still. Do candles pity moths?”
Finalllyyy drew my designs for sons of Feanor. To me Feanor looks like older, uglier Curufin and Nerdanel close to Caranthir but with Maedhros’ hair. (and yes, I fucked up Maedhros’ hand, it’s the wrong one oops)
In order from left to right
I don’t know, I don’t know , Celegorm (and Huan), Maedhros, the Ambarussa (Amrod and Amras), and I don’t know
The unidentified black haired elves are Maglor, Caranthir, and, Curufin. I just don’t know which one’s which. If anyone can help please do
this bugs me because I can’t figure out who’s who. There’s no iconography. Besides the hair.
I want to say the far right is Maglor (because of the instrument). bUT he looks barely older than the twins so is Obviously Curufin. buT curufin is Atarinke and Maedhros has his mother’s hair so he can’t be. *throws up hands* I can’t figure it out. *sigh* I’ll stop before I get an ulcer
If you’re still curious, from left to right: Curufin, Caranthir, Celegorm, Maedhros, the twins, Maglor
Sorry about the lack of description, back when I posted it I used to draw enough Tolkien fanarts that most people I wished to engage with were already familiar with my designs for Maglor (who I illustrated most often), Maedhros and Feanor, and I drew it mostly for my own reference, so back then I didn’t feel the need to write a detailed description, it was an oversight
Also if you’re wondering about the design choices, Maglor was my favourite and I drew him to be appealing to me personally : D
Edit: As for the point that Maedhros is supposed to have his mother’s hair - he has! Here’s how I designed her:
«…Varda, Lady of the Stars, who knows all the regions of Eä. 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»
more art for @raisingcain-onceagain‘sTogether All Things Go, because the imagery was haunting me and i had to make an attempt to get it down on paper! kanimelde, or at least my interpretation thereof. if you like findrahil and AUs, I highly recommend!
The leaves were long, the grass was green, The hemlock-umbels tall and fair, And in the glade a light was seen Of stars in shadow shimmering. Tinúviel was dancing there To music of a pipe unseen, And light of stars was in her hair, And in her raiment glimmering.
There Beren came from mountains cold, And lost he wandered under leaves, And where the Elven-river rolled He walked alone and sorrowing. He peered between the hemlock-leaves And saw in wonder flowers of gold Upon her mantle and her sleeves, And her hair like shadow following.
Enchantment healed his weary feet That over hills were doomed to roam; And forth he hastened, strong and fleet, And grasped at moonbeams glistening. Through woven woods in Elvenhome She lightly fled on dancing feet, And left him lonely still to roam In the silent forest listening
He heard there oft the flying sound Of feet as light as linden-leaves, Or music welling underground, In hidden hollows quavering. Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves, And one by one with sighing sound Whispering fell the beachen leaves In the wintry woodland wavering.
He sought her ever, wandering far Where leaves of years were thickly strewn, By light of moon and ray of star In frosty heavens shivering Her mantle glinted in the moon, As on a hill-top high and far She danced, and at her feet was strewn A mist of silver quivering. When winter passed, she came again, And her song released the sudden spring, Like rising lark, and falling rain, And melting water bubbling. He saw the elven-flowers spring About her feet, and healed again He longed by her to dance and sing Upon the grass untroubling.
Again she fled, but swift he came. Tinúviel! Tinúviel! He called her by her elvish name; And there she halted listening. One moment stood she, and a spell His voice laid on her: Beren came, And doom fell on Tinúviel That in his arms lay glistening.
As Beren looked into her eyes Within the shadows of her hair, The trembling starlight of the skies He saw there mirrored shimmering. Tinúviel the elven-fair, Immortal maiden elven-wise, About him cast her shadowy hair And arms like silver glimmering.
Long was the way that fate them bore, O’er stony mountains cold and grey, Through halls of ireon and darkling door, And woods of nightshade morrowless. The Sundering Seas between them lay, And yet at last they met once more, And long ago they passed away In the forest singing sorrowless.
