hravanis

Ilvanyë regarded the giantess carefully, noting the unusual height she held, and the powerful, unerring aura she carried herself with. The patient laid out in front of her seemed almost miniscule in comparison to the behemoth that was the woman she later learned to be named Hravanis, the wandering sword who had brought her the poisoned Elf.

Reverence or attachment to one's armoury is not something Hravanis understands or practices. She values ruthless practicality and speed, especially in the field, and will rarely hold onto the same sword or piece of armour if it is broken beyond it's purpose. Perhaps she will mend something, if she has the time, but more than likely she will deem it a waste.

Hravanis had a different reaction to Finrod when first encountering humans and it is perhaps indicative of how far she's come as a person.

I wanted to try detailing early Feanorian/Noldo Armour with a kind of Spartan leaning. I imagine after they began trading with the dwarves and working Mithril themselves, these kinds of molded chestplates would have become less common but I think the aesthetic certainly works.

The only known image supposedly inspired by i arben na Aran. This deduction is still suspect, the piece is heavily damaged, but the detailing in the armour appears to be reminiscent of the rank she held within the armies at Hithlum and the artist, Eithedir Nothion, was known specifically for his bend toward militaristic muses and Fëanorion sympathies.

Hravanis at fifty was not ready to experience the guilt and grief of getting her friends killed. They had trusted her and she had lead them to their death. It was too much for her to deal with at that time, so she stowed it away, encouraged a culture of glory in battle and continued on. 

Hravanis' story, ultimately, is one of recovery. By the time she has reached the third age, she has found ways to manage every one of the dreadful things she has done, or have been done to her. She learns about forgiveness, for herself and others. She learns how to honour those people she has failed, killed or worse, whilst not crippling herself with the guilt of it.

She learns about love, affection, commitment, empathy. And though she never becomes very good at the latter, she knows to try harder at it. 

Hravanis was just forty the first time she was forced to strike out in violence, to kill something she hated. The first time anyone had done so, in fact. But from that moment on she could do nothing but. Peace and running and hiding were not just useless, they were shameful. Hravanis called people cowards before they even had such a word. She called fishermen and seamstresses and healers and her elders cowards for not fighting back. She was too young, too angry and too full of hatred to see how unfair she was being. And her anger and charisma drew other young quendi to her.

The Thakalagamil was an armour set forged and wrought by the craftsmen of Nogrod in the early marches of the First Age. A gift and a gesture of solidarity between the Dwarves and their new Noldor allies, but certainly crafted with Hravanis in mind. It's title was somewhat of a fond joke, 'Old Woman of Steel', and one which Hravanis liked so much that the Dwarves even began using it as her name, though it was eventually shortened to 'Thakala' later.