tolkienianos:

The fall of Gondolin. (Also the cover of one of “The Silmarillion” editions).

lotrscenery:

Beleriand - Iceland

Middle-earth March - Day 14 

“She was (and knew she was) my Lúthien. I will say no more now.” Ronald Tolkien loved his wife Edith more than anything. The epic love story of Beren and Lúthien is inspired by Tolkien’s own love. He had to endure his own adventures until he was able to marry Edith. When she danced for him in the woods during his convalescence in 1917, that scene sparked the first meeting of the mortal Beren with the Elbe Lúthien.

Middle-earth March - Day 27

“Unfinshed Tales of Númenor and Middle-earth” is a collection of Tolkien texts posthumously compiled, revised, annotated and published by his son Christopher in 1980. They are not coherent stories, but more of a collection of fragments.

pintoras:

Venny Soldan-Brofeldt (Finnish, 1863 - 1945): A girl on the cliffs in Hanko (viaBukowskis)

#(a hadorian girl in sirion) (tag via @kareenvorbarra)

The Silmarillion aesthetics | The Realms of Middle-Earth, part 2

Araman, The Firth of Drengist, The Tower of Barad Nimras (The Tower of Finrod on the Falas), The Isebay of Forochel.

(The Realms of Middle-Earthpart 1)

The Silmarillion aesthetics | The Hidden Kingdom | The Dreams of Doriath

..and this inner land, which was long named Eglador, was after called Doriath, the guarded kingdom, Land of the Girdle.

pleoros:

Claire Droppert - Silence series, 2012

zptp:

King of the hills
Lukas Furlan |Flickr|Behance |Facebook

“At last, in the year when Eärendil was seven years old, Morgoth was ready, and he loosed upon Gondolin his Balrogs, and his Orcs, and his wolves; and with them came dragons of the brood of Glaurung, and they were become now many and terrible. The host of Morgoth came over the northern hills where the height was greatest and the watch least vigilant, and it came at night upon a time of festival, when all the people of Gondolin were upon the walls to await the rising sun, and sing their songs at its uplifting; for the morrow was the great feast that they named the Gates of Summer.”

Artwork by John Howe

“By the command of Morgoth the Orcs with great labour gathered all the bodies of those who had fallen in the great battle, and all their harness and weapons, and piled them in a great mound in the midst of Anfauglith; and it was like a hill that could be seen from afar. Haudh-en-Ndengin the Elves named it, the Hill of Slain, and Haudh-en-Nirnaeth, the Hill of Tears. But grass came there and grew again long and green upon that hill, alone in all the desert that Morgoth made; and no creature of Morgoth trod thereafter upon the earth beneath which the swords of the Eldar and the Edain crumbled into rust.”

Artwork by Ted Nasmith

Chapter III: Doriath (Pt. III)

After dinner, Mîrwen decided to return to our quarters to see about Oropher. I decided to wander the halls of our new home. Its long labyrinthian passages seemed to have no end to them until another corner appeared to lead me elsewhere. At one particular turn, my journey was interrupted by Daeron.

“Are you lost,” he asked.

“I am not quite sure,” I answered.

“Well, let me be of service and help you find your way,” he said sharply. “These corridors can lead to places you do not want to go.”

“Of course,” I said, my curiosity growing. “I would not want to go where I am not welcome.”

“It is not that you are not welcome,” Daeron answered. “It is dangerous to roam Menegroth alone. One can easily disappear never to be seen again.”

We began walking toward a familiar hallway.

“If I may ask, what is it that you do for King Thingol?”

“Whatever his majesty wishes,” he said. “My main function is the keeper of lore.”

When we came to my quarters, we stopped.

“Is there anything else you care to ask me,” Daeron asked.

“No,” I answered. “Not at the moment. You will forgive me if I have offended you in any way. It was not my intention.”

“You have not offended me,” he answered. “If I may, I will take my leave.”

I nodded and he walked away swiftly. I wanted to return to discovering other caverns but I knew I needed to speak with Mîrwen. She had become more distant and it concerned me greatly. The guards opened our chamber doors. When I entered, Mîrwen was sitting by one of the vaulted windows I walked over to her and looked out. There were gigantic waterfalls flowing into a dark abyss—their roaring waters were a lullaby. Mîrwen looked at me. I could not find the words to say.

“How is Oropher,” I asked.

“He is sleeping peacefully,” she said.

“Very well,” I said. It was all I could think to say.

“Uncle is entranced,” she said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“He has fallen completely under the spell of his wife and queen.”

“Yes,” I said perplexed. “They seem quite enamored with each other.”

She glared at me.

“Why does this not bother you?”

“Why does this bother you,” I asked. “You will excuse me if I find no fault with it.”

“Of course you would find no fault with it. Why would you?”

“That is the very question I should ask of you,” I answered.

“You only see what you want to see, Orothôn,” she growled. “Can you for once see what I see?”

“No,” I yelled. “I cannot see why you see! I am quite thankful for that! What is wrong with your uncle being in love with his wife, Mîrwen?”

“She is not one of us,” she said.

“What does that mean,” I asked. “What does that have to do with love?”

“Queen Melian is a maiar,” she said.

I looked at my beloved and wondered what she was talking about.

“Oh,” I said. “That changes everything.”

“You do not know what I am saying.”

“Mîrwen, you are my wife,” I began. “Of course I do not know what you are saying.”

“I never thought they existed,” she said. “I thought they were tales told by my mother to explain the creation of the world.”

“So they exist,” I said, “We can move on to other matters.”

“What would their children be,” she asked ignoring me.

“I would think they would be small at first, then grow as any other child. What does it matter?”

She stood up and came to me.

“Why does this not bother you, Orothôn?”

I looked at the wonder in her eyes.

“You want to know why it does not bother me,” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Because I do not care.”

She frowned at me and I smiled at her.

“Be happy for him,” I said. “The nature of being has little to do with how we love; much less with whom.”

“I suppose you are right,” she whispered.

“Of course I am right,” I answered, embracing her.

“There is always a first time for everything,” she said.

**** **** **** ****

We were alone together—lying in our bed holding one another for the first time within the walls fo a palace. Oropher was no longer sleeping at the end of our bed to hear his parents wisher their love to one another.

As we lay, our chamber doors flew open startling us. It was Êlengolas and Valdôr.

“Orothôn! Mîrwen!”

“Valdôr, what is this madness,” I asked.

“Celebriel is about to give birth,” he answered.

“If you would be so kind,” Mîrwen said.

“Oh,” Êlengolas said. “Of course.”

They stepped out of the room. She turned to me and kissed me.

“I will see you later,” she said. “We have much to talk about.”

She got out of bed and covers herself with her robe and rang for the servants. They came quick and left quicker. Mîrwen smiled at me and left to perform her duties. I rose from our bed and walked over to our window to watch the falls. The doors opened and Êlengolas entered alone.

“You could have spared me the lurid details,” he said ringing the servants. He grabbed my robe and threw it over my shoulders.

“I apologize, but you do realize this is my bedchamber?”

“We are expected in an audience with King Thingol.”

Suddenly, several elves entered and dressed me in white and silver chain. When they were done, they dispersed.

“What is this,” I asked.

“That is what will protect you in battle if it comes to it. Come, now.”

I started to feel afraid for the first time in my life. By the time we reached the throne room, it was filled with elves. Among them were Valdôr, Fineär, Galadhon, Galathil, and Denethor. Elmo stood by the side of the throne awaiting the king. When he arrived, all fell quiet.

“Darkness surrounds us,” Thingol began. “It wishes to destroy this world and all within it. We must protect all that is good and pure; as the first-born of Eru Ilúvatar, we must prevail. Go and make ready for that day—for it will come.”

At the command of the guard, we followed our masters out of the palace, across the bridge and upon the training field. As we learned many techniques, I came to prefer the bow to the sword. Êlengolas would master everything and seem to delight in being a quick study.

Valdôr seemed overwhelmed though he managed to form a more strategic way to fight; one that depended more on his wits and less on hand-to-hand combat. After our first lesson, I looked forward to the next.

Upon our return to the palace, there was excitement in the air. Mîrwen came to me. She looked at me in horror.

“What is the matter,” I asked.

“You are dressed for war,” she answered.

“Not yet,” I assured her. “Tell me, what has everyone running about?”

“Celebriel has given birth to a son,” she said flatly.

“That is wonderful. What is he called?”

“Celeborn,” she said. “His name is Celeborn.”

With that, she turned and walked away. I knew the thought of me going to fight in a war had stolen from her any joy she might have had. As the hall emptied, I noted Oropher with Eldôr, Nimeithel and another elfling. She was an unusually beautiful child with the fairest of skin and the darkest of hair.

“Orothôn,” I heard Denethor say. “Did you hear of Galadhon’s son?”

“Yes,” I said. “Who is that elfling with Oropher?”

“That is the daughter of Thingol and Melian. Her name is Lúthien. Come. Time to get out of this chain.”

I followed him away but I could not get that name out of my mind—Lúthien.–TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller 11-11-2018.

Images: ©2001, 2002, 2003. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter III: Doriath (Pt. II)

As we walked toward the distant tree line, I noticed the world around us. It seemed to change before my eyes. The colors were more vivid than ever before as the starlight burned brighter. Shapes became shadows as we passed by figures of nature. I felt things unknown lingering in the darkness. I felt a tug on my robe.

“Ada,” Oropher chimed as he struggled to keep up. “I am afraid.”

I picked him up and he put his arms around and buried his face into chest. Mîrwen looked at me—her eyes filled with fear. She took hold of my other hand tightly as the low hum of voices began their familiar tune. The closer to our destination we came, the louder the voices.

We walked together slowly—every step anticipating a remarkable moment that would reveal paradise or send our souls into darkness. I could feel my heart rising into my throat and my thoughts failed me when our march ended abruptly at the edge of the forest.

“Aúrion,” Eäros called as he came forward with another of his kin. They stood quietly before us looking or listening for someone. Suddenly several elves came out of the trees armed with strange accoutrements I would come to learn were weapons of war.

They whispered among themselves briefly before one elf emerged. He was nearly ethereal—his long golden hair framed a shocking face as strong as it was delicate. He bowed to Elmo and Orowen.

“We have been expecting you,” the elf began. “Your brother the king awaits you. I am Daeron. If you will, follow me.”

Elmo nodded and we followed him into the forest. In an instant of crossing the threshold, there was an overwhelming feeling of calm. There was an enchanting beauty far different from when we came. I wondered if we had finally come into Eldamar. There were creatures I had never seen wandering beneath a canopy of mystical treetops. Higher still, the Heavens seem to shine brighter for the light of the stars were as countless lanterns of endless light.

Beneath our feet the ground was soft; we walked on air. Our journey seemed worth the years of unknowing. Before long, I noticed a familiar face.

“Greetings, my friend,” he said joining me. “It has been quite some time.”

“Denethor,” I said. “You are here?”

“I am,” he answered. “I wished to see you to King Thingol.”

I was happy to see him again but I felt there was something he was hiding. I said nothing—I did not want to alarm my family.

“How is Arethuil,” I asked.

“She is well,” he began. “We have little ones of our own. Who do you call your son, if I may inquire?”

“He is Oropher,” I said proudly.

Oropher looked at Denethor—inspecting him carefully. When he approved, he nodded.

“Oropher. What a noble name,” Denethor said. “Fit for a king.”

I smiled as we continued on our way. Mîrwen said nothing—her mind elsewhere. When we came upon a long stone bridge over a powerful raging river, two guards stood ready to lead us across to the magnificent gates that secured all that lived within.

Slowly we mad our way across—a band of wanderers hardly prepared to meet anyone, much less a mighty king. As we moved closer to the gates they were opened to us. The halls were dim—lit by lanterns throughout save the Great Hall of Thingol. It bore the light of lanterns with the natural light of the stars high above. The breath-taking elegance was made greater by the appearance of Elwë known as King Thingol.

He wore a robe of sliver and white. It was in this light I could see the beauty of my kin around me. He came to us joyously.

“Elmo,” he said embracing him. “How I have missed you. Orowen.”

She smiled and paid obeisance  as the rest of us did obediently.

“It is good to you again,” Elmo said. “If not in Eldamar where our brother resides. I must ask what reason have you found to stay?”

Thingol motioned to Daeron. He left us as Thingol’s smile grew wider. He turned a glance to his left as Daeron returned escorting the most beautiful creature anyone had ever seen.

“This is my wife and queen, Melian,” Thingol said taking her hand and kissing it.

“Welcome to Menegroth,” she said. Her voice had a sound from eternity that rang from a knowledge of time. She had long dark hair and eyes of a color that could not be described as they defied all things earthbound.

“You must be tired and hungry,” Thingol continued. Daeron, show my brother and his court to their living quarters. Once you all have rested, we shall feast.”

Daeron once again led us away. The few of the court—made up of Iarûr, Êlengolas, Valdôr and their households—came with us. In that, I felt better about making this my new home. After traversing through endless stone paths, we were shown our quarters. Guarded by two elves, they opened the doors and we entered. The ceilings were vaulted—carve with such detail I wondered how the artisans found the time. There was a very large hearth and fireplace beside a wardrobe. To our delight, a door beside our bed let to another room for Oropher.

“Shall I take Oropher to bed,” I heard Amareth say.

I looked to see that Oropher had fallen asleep. In all the enchantments I hardly felt him in my arms.

“Thank you, Amareth,” I said handing him to her. When they were gone, I turned to Mîrwen. She was sitting at the end of the bed looking into the hollow fireplace.

“Talk to me, Mîrwen,” I said joining her.

“She is quite beautiful,” she began softly.

“Queen Melian,” I said. “She is.”

“She is not one of us,” she said.

I did not say a word to her. I touched her face gently. She looked at me. I could see she wanted to speak but I shook my head. I kissed her lips.

“We will speak after dinner,” I whispered. She nodded and put her head on my shoulder. Before long, servants arrived and dressed us for dinner. When we were ready, we left our room and made our way through the winding paths to the banquet hall that was even more magnificent than the throne room.

The table was the length of the room and elegantly dressed with plates and utensils of the finest craftsmanship. Everyone was present—including Denethor and Arethuil. We sat near them as well as Galadhon and Celebriel who was visibly with child.

“When are you due,” Arethuil asked her.

“Quite possibly after dinner,” Galadhon teased.

“That would be far too much to wish for,” Celebriel said as she sat down. “But I know he will come into this work inside the safety of this palace and for this I am grateful.”

Before another word could be said, Thingol and Melian entered the hall with Elmo and Orowen. We stood for them. Once they were seated we sat down to be served. Galathil and Nárwen found themselves near us.

“Where is Níndi,” Mîrwen asked Galadhon. “I have not see her since we came into Doriath.”

“I suspect she is with Eäros,” Galadhon answered. “She thinks her father is unaware of her love for him.”

“So you approve of him,” I asked as Êlengolas, Valdôr, Finëar and their wives joined us.

“Do I have a choice,” Galadhon asked. “I have little control over the heart. I think her too young to marry but her mother thinks otherwise. I am not fool enough to disagree with my wife. I must live with her for eternity.”

“You are wise,” Celebriel said smiling.

“Tell me, Denethor,” I began. “You have children, you say?”

“Yes,” he said. “A boy and a girl. They are young; not quite old enough to be betrothed.”

“Be thankful,” Êlengolas said. “I have girls and I wish nothing more than for them to stay as they—repelled by boys. Though I believe my Nimeithel has found a friend in Orothôn’s son Oropher.”

Mîrwen laughed for the first time in a long while. That made me smile.

“I am curious as to why you are so far from where we last saw you,” Galathil asked Denethor. “What brings you into Beleriand?”

“Something lingers in darkness,” he said softly. “I cannot say what it is but for the safety of my people I asked for refuge and King Thingol gave it willingly. For that, I am indebted to him.”

“What darkness,” Valdôr asked curiously. “What else is out there but elves?”

“Not just elves,” Thingol said from end of the table. I wonder how he heard us. “There are many things out there beyond these caverns. Some are harmless and some wish to do harm. The world is changing and it grows darker. But for better or for worse I remain here for there are some things in this world greater than fear.”

He took his wife’s hand and kissed it. I turned to Mîrwen—she was no longer smiling. Everyone at in silence.–TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller 10-27-2018.

Images: ©2012, 2013, 2014. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: The Unexpected Journey, The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug, The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter III: Doriath (Pt. I)

Darkness enveloped me. There was not a sound to be heard until a gentle familiar voice spoke to me.

“Orothôn,” it said. “I know you hear me.”

“Yes, Mîrwen,” I answered. I opened my eyes to see her leaning over me as I lay in our bed.

“What did you hear,” she asked. “I know you heard something.”

“What do you wish me to tell you,” I asked. “You are the daughter of Elmo. What could I tell you that you don not already know?”

“I do not know what you overheard my father say to my mother.”

“How would you know I overheard what was spoken if you had not yet spoken with your mother?”

“Orothôn,” she said, her face stoic.

“I heard much but understood far less,” I answered. I caressed her face and it softened.

“Are we to remain where we are,” she asked. “Will my son never see Eldamar?”

“Perhaps some day,” I said to her. “Just not now. Not before our son is of age.”
Tears rolled down Mîrwen’s face though she remained quiet. She lay down beside me motionless.

“I am afraid,” she whispered. “For us all.”

Now it was I that leaned over my wife in comfort, kissing her forehead then her cheek—the taste of her sweet tears filled my heart with despair.

“As long as I am with you, Mîrwen, you have nothing to fear.”

Mîrwen smiled weakly trying to give me hope that my words meant something. Her lips found mine as she gently touched my face. Soon we found ourselves in each others arms—closer than we had ever been before. Time was kind to us for our love would not be quenched. Forever the voyeur, time stopped its course to allow its eye to wander and fall upon our souls as to give an eternal blessing.

**** **** **** ****

It was not long after that word came of our departure. Though I longed for a home I never knew, I was growing fond of the mysteries of this world. We remained under starlight but the faint hues of the landscapes had begun to be revealed.

There were many times I found myself wandering further away from our home to see what lay beyond our encampment. Keeping the the faint light of refuge within view, often I was joined by Êlengolas, Valdôr or both. We saw great walls of stone erupting from beneath the earth—mountains. There were variate trees gathered together randomly around us—forest. Over time we discovered more living things other than ourselves. The world was changing and us with it though we were not always aware.

I was with Valdôr and Êlengolas watching our children play. They were more of this world than we were—even as we awoke here, they were born.

“The time grows nearer to our departure,” Valdôr said. “Lothluin has started to prepare to leave with such abandon I wonder where she expects us to be going.”

“Perhaps she has heard something,” I said without thinking.

“Tell us, Orothôn,” Êlengolas began. “What is it that you know.”

“I know very little,” I answered.

“You mean you will say very little or nothing,” Valdôr said.

“What little I know is not for me to say,” I said softly as I watched Oropher playing with Nimeithel. They seemed rather fond of one another.

“It matters not if you say a word,” Valdôr said. “It is how Elmo has changed that has everyone a twitter. He seems distracted by his thoughts.”

“His thoughts are precisely why Iarûr worries,” Êlengolas said.

“Why would Iarûr be worried,” I asked incuriously. I feared what the answer would be.

“There are creatures amongst us,” he began. “Some beyond description. It is a secret to be revealed in due course.”

“If it is the same to you,” Valdôr began. “Iarûr can keep his secrets. It is my wish to go home and raise Eldôr properly.”

We said nothing for a long while—each of us left to our own imaginings of what the future would bring. When it was time to return home, I called to Oropher and we went our own way.

“How was your time with your friends,” I asked, taking Oropher’s hand.

“Fine, Ada,” he said.

“You found a new friend, I see.”

“Nimeithel is not a friend,” he said. “She is a girl.”

“I think she is quite capable of being a friend, Oropher,” I answered trying hard to keep my laughter.

“I will think on it, Ada,” he said.

As we approached our home, Amareth approached us.

“I am to take Oropher to his supper,” she said to us. “If I may.”

I nodded and let my son go his way. When I entered my home, there were several elves putting our belongings away.

“What is this,” I asked angrily. “What are you doing and where is Mîrwen?”

They all ceased their work to bow One of the young elven courtiers stepped forward.

“Your Highness,” he began timidly—his grey eyes fearful. “We were sent by Lord Elmo. The Lady Mîrwen just departed to speak with her ladies.”

I did not have anything else to say.

“Carry on, then,” I said.

Immediately they returned to their work and I went in search of Mîrwen. As I approached what was the home of Elmo and Orowen, I heard something unfamiliar to my ears. It was coming from the wood beside their house. I cautiously followed the sound. As it grew louder, I recognized the sound of voices that seemed to be gasping for air. When I finally found the source of the voices, I paused in wonder.

Níndi’s back was against a tree as Eäros stood before her—so close a blade of grass could not pass between them. They were locked together as they kissed each other deeply.

“I love you, Níndi,” Eäros said breathlessly.

“And I you, Eäros,” she answered. They kissed again. It was then I realized how much time had passed. Níndi was becoming a young lady.

“I want you to be my wife,” Eäros whispered.

“I want nothing more than to be your wife,” she said. “I long for it.”

Before they could continue, Níndi noticed me.

“Oh no,” she said desperately as she puled away from Eäros. “It is my uncle Orothôn.”

They were both petrified as they approached. Níndi’s long golden hair was braided behind; her eyes began to fill with tears.

“Do not be afraid,” I said.

“Please, do not speak a word of this,” she said. “My father thinks me too young to know my heart.”

“What do you have to say, Eäros,” I asked.

“I love her,” he answered. “That is all I can say.”

“That is all that you need to say,” I began. “But not to me. It is Galadhon you must ask for his daughter’s hand.”

“I will,” he said. “As soon as we are settled in our new home.”

“I beg your pardon,” I asked.

“You have not heard,” Níndi asked as Eäros took her hand.

“I am afraid not,” I said. “Perhaps you could tell me and save me a journey in search of my wife.”

“We are no longer than a short journey from the Eastern Borders of Beleriand,” she said.

“Beleriand,” I asked.

“Yes,” Eäros answered. “I have seen it with my own eyes. It is where I will ask for Níndi’s hand and marry her. With her father’s blessing and the approval of the King.”

I was speechless. I could not feel my body as it had lost all feeling.

“Are you well,” I heard Níndi ask.

“Yes,” I answered. “Go your way. I will not speak a word to your father.”

“Thank you,” she said cheerfully. She kissed my cheek and the lovers made their way toward home. As I began to feel myself once more, I thought on what I heard from Níndi and Eäros.

I looked around—the word was new to me again. It seemed a lifetime I was there in that place thinking of all that had happened to that moment. I knew a truth my heart could not deny.

“Orothôn,” I heard a voice say. I turned to see Mîrwen. “Níndi said I would find you here.”

“When do we depart,” I asked.

“Not long.”

“Do you know where we will go?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Mother has told me.”

“Just now,” I asked.

“Yes, Orothôn.  Learned of it just now.”

She came to me cautiously—my demeanor seemed to frighten her. I looked at her—her beauty glowing beneath the stars. I reached for her, but she stepped away.

“No, Orothôn,” she said. “Tell me you are not mad.”

“I am not mad,” I said. “I do not know what I am but I am not mad.”

She smiled and moved closer to me. Embracing me, I held her.

“Tell me what I long to hear, Mîrwen.”

“All will be well, my love,” she whispered.

I kissed the top of her head. I felt I could leave this place for another. Mîrwen kissed my chest gently. She looked up at me. I kissed her.

“Shall we go now,” I asked.

She nodded as she took my hand. Before we reached the encampment, she pulled me close and kissed me passionately.

“They wait for us,” she whispered. “Once we cross this threshold, we will leave this place forever.”

I nodded. She nodded in return. We stepped out into the clearing. Our people were standing in line—a caravan prepared for one last journey. We made our way toward Elmo and Orowen. Once we took our place, a voice before us spoke.

“To Beleriand.“–TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller 9-09-2018.

Images: ©2001, 2002, 2003. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. All Rights Reserved.

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