tolkien daemons

Bilbo has a pika, and the dwarves tease him relentlessly about her, the fat little burrower, with her sleek coat. But pikas are small and quiet and quick (our thief, they call him, though the tone of it grows fonder, with each saying) and pikas are aggressively defensive of their territory, so it does not surprise him too much when she is there on Bilbo’s shoulder as he draws his sword.

Thorin has a mouflon with broad, curving horns. Once, she wore them decked in gold leaf and metalwork, intricate carvings and inlaid gems to show Thorin’s skill, his birthright. But those were sold, one bad winter when he could not find work—she wears them bare now, proud of the deep scoring left behind by orc blades.

Dwalin’s urial will lay down with her sometimes, when the dwarves are in deep conversation

Fili has a fierce stoat daemon, with fur only a few shades darker than Fili’s hair. He likes to curl up in the hood of Fili’s coat most of the time, but Bilbo has seen him launch himself over Fili’s shoulder and bury his sharp teeth in an orc’s throat, it’s more than a little terrifying.

Kili has a long, lean hare, whose scruffy wildness stands in stark contrast with some of the other dwarves’ rabbit daemons. (We’ve always had our fair share of burrowing daemons, laddie, Balin says when Bilbo asks. In Erebor you’d see them everywhere, wearing the bounty of their dwarf’s mine.) But Kili’s daemon is dark eyed and cock-eared, a thing built for running—hares don’t have warrens, Bilbo knows. They nest beneath open sky

(In Mirkwood, Legolas stumbles on Kili’s hare very carefully nosing at Tauriel’s genet, whose eyes are half-lidded, his tail lashing lazily as Tauriel and Kili talk about starlight.)

Bard has a peregrine called Tercel—she settled early, probably too early, after the last of the dragon-fire had been put out and there was only a scorched rubble-pile where his home had been. But peregrines are far-sighted and patient hunters, capable of catching that which flies and dealing a blow to much larger game. (They return, again and again, to the same nest each year—he only hopes for the same.)

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I tend to see Thranduil as more predatory, more a gyrfalcon than a peacock—they’re large silver birds, and according to the book of St Albans, that was the right bird for a king to use in falconry. I like the image of Thranduil with an enormous hunter at his shoulder, looming over everyone and speaking in grim riddles. (But of course, just as birdlike and likely to have his feathers ruffled.)

And for Tauriel, I envision her as a genet—they’re related to civet cats and mongooses; sleek silvan carnivores with quick reflexes and exceptional climbing skills. They’re lovely, and I think that Legolas’s lynx daemon would be more likely to trust another member of Feliformia over a prey species.

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Boromir has an enormous heavy-headed wolfhound daemon, who lopes along beside his horse and has torn out more a few orc throats on the battlefield. Still, she misses the weight of Faramir’s osprey daemon perched on her back—it reminded them of how Finduilas’ tern would nestle beside Denethor’s griffon vulture each night.

Aragorn has a wolf daemon. (When Cithiel settled, all he could think about were the all stories of Carcharoth and Draugluin, of the winter-starved wolves in Arnor, and he didn’t—it had taken a while to get used to her.)  The sight of her had frightened the hobbits at first—dusty and mangy with travel, her eyes malevolent yellow in the light of the inn, she had looked no more trustworthy than Strider had. However, they both clean up well, and there is a kind of peace in watching the sleek dark wolf playfully wrestling with Arwen’s ocelot in the dappled light of Elrond’s courtyard.

Gimli has a bat daemon who generally sleeps in his beard, hanging from his braids or the special beads forged and wove into his hair for her. Though as of late, she’s been riding on Legolas’ lynx, whispering in the other daemon’s ears.

Frodo has a hedgehog, who curls up in his breast pocket, pretending not to feel the creeping cold of the Ring under his shirt. (By the time they reach Mount Doom, she’s so weak that Gollum’s shriveled cave salamander meets no resistance in choking her. She never fully regains consciousness, not until they cross into the undying lands.) Merry and Pippin have a fox and a raccoon, respectively, but they spent so much time together that most of the Shire isn’t entirely certain whose is which. Even Frodo gets confused more than once, when they begin their journey to Bree.

Sam has a pleasant-tempered coney who only sometimes has to be reminded not to eat the petunias.

Galadriel has a white stag, a twelve-pointer who wears a silver collar and walks silently at her side through the golden wood. (Hers is the beginning of all the myths, the white stag that Arthur chases and the celtic messenger of the otherworld.) Elrond’s daemon is a leopard, the hallmark of a brave and generous warrior, and the noble cats run through his line—Elladan has a bay cat and Elrohir golden cat, along with Arwen’s ocelot.

Eowyn rides into battle with her boar daemon at her side, its tusks capped in iron. (She knew she was meant to be a shieldmaiden since he settled, not as a lady’s daemon but as the symbol of bloodlusty glory. Grima, with his pale snake daemon, had always been uncomfortable around him, this irrefutable proof that she was not his pale and lovely flower, but a bristling wild thing that would not be caged.)