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âShe cast her cloak befor his eyes, and set upon him a dream, dark as the Outer Void where once he walked alone.â - The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien
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It was snowy today, so I spent the day making watercolor art of the Silmarillion. Here's Beren, Luthien, and Huan the Hound going after the Silmarilđ
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Last one(?) of my super late Inktobers!
LĂșthien dancing among hemlocks....which is quitte strange looking and poisonious plant. Hemlock's czech name is "Bolehlav" which means "Headache". This adds really weird vibe to Aragorn's poem :D
for the design reqs, elves, sindarin, pre-first age (like before the noldorin crossed back)? thank you so much đđ
IÂŽm taking Luthien and Daeron to play dolls with here >:)
LuthienÂŽs dress can also be seen here in more details, while an example of the armor can be seen here with Dior.
The difference between the years of the tree and the first age fashion is that after the NoldorÂŽs arrival, they begin wearing more layers and show less neck/breast, as well as wearing more jewelry, especially necklaces which I donÂŽt think was a part of their fashion before the same way. - I think necklaces would be a bit like we see a livery collar, not "weird" but a bit unusual.
The colors of their clothing are usually cold blue or purple, with hints of green, but also sometimes all green or rust.
I inspire SindarÂŽs jewelry on art nouveau, and while I donÂŽt think they use it a lot, they do take great pride in the finer details of it. They would rather wear a few very detailed pieces than a lot so that the individual piece doesnÂŽt get overshadowed by another.
Depicted: a hair comb, a silver brooch, a ring, an earring
Last one(?) of my super late Inktobers!
LĂșthien dancing among hemlocks....which is quitte strange looking and poisonious plant. Hemlock's czech name is "Bolehlav" which means "Headache". This adds really weird vibe to Aragorn's poem :D
So it's been like 2 years since I wrote any Silmarillion stories, and like 4 since I wrote anything in my Victorian AU. But for @luthiendear's Luthien Week, I finally am returning to my roots and writing a short that I've been mulling over for quite some time.
Summary: Luthien duBois, Louisiana heiress and hopeless romantic, kickstarts the greatest jewel heist in American history.
---
San Francisco, 1899
The Angband Club
Luthien duBois was a great believer in positive thinking. It had helped her sail through plenty of trouble already, and no matter how terrifying the man in front of her was, she decided to believe her plan would work. It had gotten off to a decent start, anyway; Beren had gone in the day before and got himself hired as a barman, and the rest was in Lulu's hands.
Mr. Morgoth, frequently described as the most evil gangster in America, looked her up and down suggestively and stroked his luxuriant dark mustache. "You're a pretty thing," he drawled. "Only reason I let you in here, really. Tell me, young lady, what can I do for you?"
"I've come looking for work," she replied with a coquettish smile. "Word around town is, you run the finest saloon in this city, with top-notch talent. And I'm an excellent dancer."
"Oh, I can well believe that. But you must understand, miss..."
Lulu dropped into a curtsy. "Call me Nightingale."
"How sweet. You must understand, Miss Nightingale, I have very lofty standards for my employees. Simple talent isn't enough, nor are big eyes and pretty ankles." He set his drink down with a clatter. "Loyalty, miss, and discretion. The same a general might demand of his troops. Behind these doors, there is no law but mine. Have you the strength of character to promise this?"
"Oh, but I do hope you won't be too well-behaved. I like my girls with a bit of...spice."
Revolting man! "Why don't you let me audition," she purred, "and you'll see just how spicy I can be."
He gestured to the small stage across the room. "Do, please. I cannot wait."
She took a deep breath and pulled the pins from her hair, letting it fall around her like a cloak. "Play something lively," she ordered the man at the piano, and hopped up onto the stage. As the pianist struck up a jolly ragtime tune, she shut out her surroundings and danced.
She'd been trained in ballet, but this wasn't really ballet, not entirely. There were bits of flamenco, some calypso she'd seen on the streets of New Orleans, a hint of Irish jig, and plenty of whatever simply occurred to her in the moment. There was no point in being shy; she did have talent, and it didn't feel like a sin to show it off. Even in this situation.
The song ended at last, and it took a moment to remember she was in a dank gentlemen's club being leered at by a slimy old criminal. She bowed gracefully, trying her best not to shudder in disgust.
"You weren't lying, my dear," Morgoth breathed. "Consider yourself hired. And perhaps I can tempt you to give me a private performance from time to time.
"It would be my pleasure," Luthien lied. "But golly, this is such an honor! We ought to celebrate, don't you think?"
"We certainly should." Morgoth snapped his fingers at the pianist. "Boy! Two brandies, double-quick!"
The pianist- a young fellow with curly dark hair and olive skin-nodded obediently and scurried to the bar, returning with two glasses. Morgoth raised his to Luthien.
"To you, my pretty Nightingale," he said, and drank.
Three...
Two...
One.
Morgoth's dark eyes grew wide and confused, and he let out an undignified burp before slumping to the floor. Luthien sighed with relief as the pianist hurried to her side.
"Nice work," she said. "Where's the real pianist?"
"Out cold behind the dustbins. He'll be fine." Beren glanced down at the unconscious gangster. "What an old pervert," he muttered, shaking his head. "Sorry you had to do that, Lulu."
Luthien, who had been rummaging around in Morgoth's pockets, withdrew her hand with a grin. In it was a tiny silver key. "Don't be too sorry, darlin'. We're halfway there."
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Hi all! Sorry for the delay â was on a brief trip, but Iâm back for the belated Day 1 of LĂșthien Week! This day focuses on Beren and LĂșthien. What do you appreciate about Tolkienâs star-crossed lovers? How do you feel about their falling in love at first sight? A parallel to Thingol and Melian, perhaps? Alternatively, create a work that features LĂșthien dancing or that showcases her eldritch traits! Excited to see what yâall create đ
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