Seventeenth rune of the Elder Futhark, Tiwaz bears the Germanic name of the god whom Old Norse texts call Týr. The rune poems portray him as the one-handed god, marked by the wolf, while the English stanza describes a sign faithful to its course above the night mists. These images unite direction, commitment, and the price of keeping one’s word.
In a contemporary reading, Tiwaz speaks of directed will, courage, responsibility, and a struggle conducted according to a rule. It does not guarantee victory for the strongest. It questions the cause being defended, the fairness of the means, and the cost the person truly accepts to bear.
Its link with Týr allows for a richer reading than the simple label “rune of justice.” The story of Fenrir shows an ambiguous oath, a collective decision, and a god who bears the consequence of the broken agreement in his own flesh. Tiwaz thus reminds us that a principle has value only when it also governs the one who invokes it.
Tiwaz in the Elder Futhark
Tiwaz, written ᛏ, occupies the seventeenth position in the Elder Futhark and begins the final group of eight runes. Its phonetic value is t. Its reconstructed name, *Tīwaz or *Teiwaz, corresponds to the ancient Germanic name of the god Týr. The relationship is also apparent in Old English Tīw, whose name survives in that of the English weekday Tuesday.
The link between the rune and the god therefore rests on the name itself, not on a supposed graphic resemblance to a spear or an arrow. The modern expression “ætt of Týr” conveniently refers to the third group, but the ancient sources do not give the three sets of eight a divine name. Michael P. Barnes places these names and classifications within the history of runic writing in Runes: A Handbook.
Týr, the Oath and the Lost Hand
In Snorri Sturluson’s Gylfaginning, the gods seek to bind the wolf Fenrir with the fetter Gleipnir. The wolf agrees to the trial only if one of them places a hand in his mouth as a pledge. Týr offers his right hand. When Fenrir realizes that the gods will not release him, he bites it off. The story explains why Týr is called the one-handed god.
The scene does not offer a simple moral. The gods protect the world from a foretold threat, but they also break the assurance given to the wolf. Týr becomes the one who personally bears the price of the collective stratagem. Responsibility, the pledge, the word given, and conscious sacrifice therefore provide stronger modern extensions than the vague idea of justice that is always pure.
The Lokasenna also recalls that the wolf took Týr’s right hand. The Norwegian and Icelandic rune poems condense this memory in the phrases “one-handed god” and “remnant of the wolf.” The loss belongs to the god’s literary portrait long before modern divinatory manuals.
The heart of Tiwaz: choosing a cause means accepting responsibility for one’s methods and their consequences. The rune does not demand sacrifice for its own sake; it asks what price truly serves the commitment undertaken.
The Rune Poems and the Victory Runes
The Norwegian poem says that Týr is the one-handed god, then mentions the smith who must blow on his fire. The Icelandic stanza calls him the one-handed god, the remnant of the wolf, and the prince of temples. A Latin gloss associates him with Mars. This scholarly equivalence brings two warrior deities closer together; it is not enough to establish an entire ancient astrological system around the rune.
The Old English stanza differs. Tir appears there as a sign that faithfully keeps its course with princes, above the mists of night, never faltering. Bruce Dickins translates this passage through the image of a guiding star. The exact identification of the celestial sign remains debated, but the constancy of the path and the faithfulness remain clear. All three poems are collected in Runic and Heroic Poems of the Old Teutonic Peoples.
The Sigrdrífumál provides another ancient reference point. One stanza advises engraving victory runes on a sword’s hilt and naming Týr twice. The text establishes a real link between the god, the runes, and the pursuit of victory, even though it does not describe an isolated talisman composed only of ᛏ. A recent bilingual edition of the poem is available from Open Book Publishers.
Meaning of Tiwaz in a reading
Tiwaz indicates a clear direction, an accepted duty, or an ordeal that requires courage and discipline. It may represent a legitimate struggle, a competition, a firm decision, or someone acting on behalf of a principle. The rune favors resolution, but it requires an honest examination of the cause and the rules.
For work and money, Tiwaz may announce a competition, firm negotiation, legal proceeding, or defense of a project. It advises preparing the evidence, respecting the framework, and standing by your position until the outcome. A victory achieved at the cost of an unsustainable commitment would lose much of its value.
For relationships, the rune speaks of loyalty, one's word, and acknowledged boundaries. It may show a connection that calls for a clear decision. It may also reveal a relationship experienced as a constant confrontation, in which each person wants to be right instead of seeking a workable agreement.
As advice, Tiwaz asks you to choose your course and follow it with integrity. You must name the goal, know the cost, respect the stated rules, and accept responsibility for the action. Courage does not exempt you from discernment.
Reversed or challenging Tiwaz
The rune poems give no reversed meaning. Reading reversed Tiwaz belongs to modern divinatory methods. The sign ᛏ clearly changes orientation when turned, allowing this convention in a set designed for reversals.
Reversed Tiwaz may show a poorly chosen cause, a broken promise, unjust authority, or a will that is wearing down. It may also point to someone who demands that others make the sacrifice without bearing their share of the cost. The stated principle then serves as a mask for self-interest.
In a challenging reading, the rune may indicate fear of conflict, giving up too quickly, or refusing to acknowledge a defeat. It invites you to reconsider the strategy and legitimacy of the fight. Changing course after an honest examination is not the same as betraying your word.
Tiwaz with other runes
These associations serve contemporary divination. They bring together the names, poems, and stories without forming a medieval code.
Uruz and Tiwaz place strength at the service of direction. Energy becomes effective when given a rule and a goal. Without restraint, it risks turning a just fight into a display of power.
Ansuz and Tiwaz connect speech with commitment. A promise, testimony, or public decision gains weight. The words spoken must correspond to the actions.
Gebo and Tiwaz speak of an agreement that binds both parties. The exchange may become a contract, alliance, or lasting commitment. Reciprocity and the rules must remain clear.
Naudiz and Tiwaz show a difficult duty or a constrained struggle. The effort may be necessary, but the rune asks you to distinguish a useful cost from suffering imposed without purpose.
Sowilo and Tiwaz bring together clarity of direction and the will to reach it. The combination favors a visible result, recognition, or a prepared victory. It also warns against arrogant certainty.
Working with Tiwaz in magic
Tiwaz has a more precise magical foundation than several other runes thanks to the Sigrdrífumál and ancient inscriptions in which Tiwaz-shaped signs are repeated or superimposed. Their exact interpretation nevertheless depends on the object and the complete inscription. Mindy MacLeod and Bernard Mees examine this material in Runic Amulets and Magic Objects.
In a contemporary practice, Tiwaz can accompany a competition, the defense of a cause, an undertaking requiring firmness, or a commitment to follow a rule. The intention should define the victory sought and the limits that will not be crossed to achieve it.
The rune may be drawn near a statement of commitment. A concrete action should answer it: compiling a file, meeting a deadline, setting a boundary, honoring a promise, or ending conduct contrary to the goal. Tiwaz supports the chosen course; it does not make an unjust request just.
Correspondences and references for Tiwaz
| Reference | Correspondence |
|---|---|
| Sign | ᛏ |
| Alphabet | Elder Futhark; rune retained in later alphabets |
| Position | Seventeenth rune; opening of the third ætt |
| Phonetic value | t |
| Reconstructed name | Common Germanic *Tīwaz or *Teiwaz |
| Attested forms | Old English Tīw or Tir; Old Norse Týr |
| Deity | Týr, one-handed god associated with the pledge given during Fenrir’s binding |
| Images from the sources | Lost hand, wolf, temple, celestial sign faithful to its course, victory runes |
| Favorable reading | Direction, courage, commitment, responsibility, discipline, earned victory |
| Challenging reading | Broken oath, unjust cause, abusive authority, weakened will, imposed sacrifice |
| Question asked | What cause deserves your commitment, and what price are you willing to bear yourself? |
| Attributions requiring nuance | The Latin gloss Mars appears in the Icelandic poem; Tuesday, Aries, iron, ruby, and the Justice card do not form an ancient runic system. |
Reading guide: Tiwaz does not justify every fight. It calls for a clear cause, a rule applied to oneself, and the strength to accept the decision’s real cost.





























