Me as Elu Thingol | PHX: 无颜| Well, a terrible experience to be photographed among mosquitoes OTZ… Hope u guys like my Thingol cosplay~ 

Thingol and Melian

Comission from my VK group

Chapter V: The Coming of Time (Pt. I)

We made our way through narrow corridors to rooms filled with armor, shields, spears, and bows that King Thingol had stockpiled over many years for the occasion of war. The only sounds were the clashing of metal blended with the murmurs of armor-bearers hard at work. When they were finished, we took our weapons and began our return to the surface—our armor dragging against stone walls with an eerie lullaby.

We assembled in the empty hall that before had held such promise. I thought of Oropher. I wanted to look for him but my new wardrobe made it difficult. My view remained on the empty throne. Before long, King Thingol and Elmo appeared dressed similarly to us.

“You will follow us into Ossiriand,” King Thingol said flatly; his expression stoic. “I have it on good authority that our enemy looks to start with the least protected to force out the most in the attempt to destroy us all. This is no ordinary adversary we fight. This is an evil from whence time began. Its desire to extinguish life is only matched by its desire to rule over it. It will fight to the death and so must we. The future of this world depends on it.”

King Thingol and Elmo stepped down from their thrones and became one of us. When I was able to turn my head, I could see Galathil to my left.

“We will follow Father,” he whispered. “Galadhon will accompany our uncle.”

“Where are our sons,” I asked.

“They are to remain behind,” he answered. “To protect the borders.”

I could feel relief fall upon me. It was like a cool breeze flowing through my suit. If I did not return, at least my son had a chance to live as he would remain protected by the Girdle of Melian with his mother.

As we followed the king and his brother out of Menegroth, the faces of our families looked on from behind. I dared not look for Mîrwen. I wished the last I saw her would be her smile as our son married his beloved.

With Menegroth growing smaller in the distance, the familiar path we marched brought back the time we first entered Doriath after years the wilderness. Still, beneath the girdle, things were at peace—the world beyond had yet to bear witness to the peace we had known. It was changed and we had not for we chose to live our lives in relative secrecy. The evil around us seemed like myth yet we were told of its reality. We hoped it was legend—something that had passed away never to return. Now we were about to fact this nemesis we knew very little about.

We continued our journey to the borders. When we came to it, we stopped.

“Once we cross this boundary,” King Thingol began. “Only the stars hold our fate in their hands.”

Not a sound was heard—not a breath was taken. I felt the earth move beneath my feet only to realize I was walking with other elves into another land. Unremarkable was the world I once left behind yet the air was different. There was a distant stench I was not familiar with. Further away, we heard a rumbling. I noticed we were marching in the direction of both. The closer we came, the greater the sound and the stronger the smell.

With little warning, we came upon creatures so hideous and malodorous, I nearly fainted. Armor-clad with features that could only be called scaly but oleaginous. Their numbers seemed infinite in the light of the stars.

“Fire,” I heard Elmo say. Arrows flew past my head and pierced the flesh of a few of these monsters. It only served to anger them more. They broke ranks and came at us with such fury, I barely had time to draw my sword. I felled one—then another and another and another. Their evil was palpable and their numbers never-ending. I felt I was fighting for every year of my life. Out of exhaustion or perhaps a wound, I fell down amid the corpses of elves.

“Orothôn,” I heard a voice say. I thought I was in a dream. “Orothôn, are you with us?”

I opened my eyes. I was lying on top of a dead elf. His eyes stared into mine in anguish. I quickly jumped up in horror. I looked to see Galathil standing beside me.

“Are you alright,” he asked.

“Yes, I am,” I answered. I looked around to see elves and dwarves lying motionless. The carnage seemed to go the length of the Ered Luin.

“Where is Galadhon,” I asked. “Where is Elmo? Where is King Thingol?”

“Calm down,” Galathil said. “They live. I am afraid I cannot say the same for Denethor.”

I looked around trying to find his face among many. There were so many faces—each one staring into the void of death. Suddenly I remembered my friends.

“Where is Valdôr,” I asked. “Was he not with us?”

“He is gone, Orothôn,” another voice said. It was Êlengolas. “He fell not long after Denethor.”

I could not help but cry. I was overcome with grief. My visions had come to bear the bitter fruit of death I longed feared. Êlengolas and Galathil helped me navigate through the bodies and off the field of battle. In my grief, I hardly noticed Ónarr speaking with King Thingol nearby. I had again realized his people were among the dead and my grief worsened. I longed to be with Mîrwen and Oropher. I wondered if there was any home left to return to. Just as I began to drown myself in my thoughts, an elf approached me.

“You must stay strong, Orothôn,” he said. “Or else you will perish from your grief.”

I looked up to see Iarûr.

“You are here,” I said.

“I am,” he answered. “Not all is lost. For even in darkness light must shine. Rest, my friend. For soon we will return home.”

I smiled weakly as I leaned against the trunk of a tree and felt myself drift into a deep rest. I opened my eyes to the sound of metal against metal. Startled, I looked up to see soldiers picking up weapons from the ground.

“Did I startle you,” a young elf asked me.

“Yes, but I am fine,” I answered. “Carry on.”

He nodded and went on his way. When I rose to my feet, I saw that the creatures seem to retreat the field.

“They are orcs,” Êlengolas said as he approached from behind. “That is what Iarûr calls them.

“Where are they going,” I asked.

“I do not know nor do I care,” he said angrily. “They killed many of us. They left many a widow to grieve to make orphans. I suspect we have not seen the last of them.”

“Are we to leave for Doriath,” I asked.

“Yes, he said. “We were about to depart. I was sent to tell you. How is your arm?”

“My arm,” I asked. I look to see my arm was wrapped tightly from my elbow to my shoulder. For the first time, I felt the pain. “I was wounded by an orc?”

Êlengolas looked at me confused as he shook his head.

“Come on,” he said.

We made our way toward King Thingol and Elmo eating along with Galathil and Galadhon. King Thingol nodded at me and we began our return to Doriath.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 4-7-2019

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. IV)

I returned to my chambers after washing and dressing in clean clothes. Mîrwen was with Oropher.

“Ada,” he said happily as he ran to me. “I saw you today. Are you going to be a warrior? I want to be one!”

I could see my wife was not as enthusiastic as our son.

“One day, Oropher,” I said. “But not yet. Go find Eldôr. I need a word with your mother.”

“Yes, Ada.” He ran out of our chambers. Once we heard the doors shut, the tension grew thicker.

“I knew this day would come, Orothôn. You will go into battle and die.”

“Mîrwen,” I began.

“No,” she interrupted storming over to me. “There is nothing you can say to me that will take this pain away!”

“I know,” I whispered

“How could you,” she yelled as she began to cry. “How could you do this to me? To your son?”

“I was not given the choice,” I said. “You know I would have chosen you and Oropher.”

“Would you have? Would you have chosen us over war?”

“You know I would have,” I said.

I felt my own tears began to fall. I headed for her, but she pushed me away.

“Do not touch me, Orothôn,” she wailed. “I do not want you to touch me.”

I was shrinking—no taller than a  blade of grass.

“How will I live without you?”

“I am with you now,” I yelled. “Is this not enough? If I am to die, why spend the time we have left this way? Please, do not do this to us.”
Mîrwen’s expression softened. I took her into my arms.

“Forgive me,” she whispered.

“There is nothing to forgive,” I said.

We kissed passionately. We lost ourselves in the moment—our love proved to us its depth.

“I never want to live in this world without you,” Mîrwen said. “Promise me I will never have to live in this world without you.”

“I cannot promise you that,” I said as I began to cry. “I can only promise my love for you will never die.”

“Neither will mine for you,” she answered.

“Then we will always be together,” I whispered.

From then on, after I gave my preparation for war to the kingdom, I gave myself to Mîrwen thereafter.

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

Time for us was measured by our children. As my skills in the art of war improved, I barely noticed the changes in my son. He grew taller it seemed, yet he was still quite young. Not long after Eäros wed his beloved Níndi, I came across time itself in the hall near the throne room.

Before me stood a radiant beauty—not quite of age but still a young lady in the making. Her hair was nearly white; flawless skin so fair it seemed to glow with eyes of pale blue. I almost did not recognize her until a prepubescent boy called to her by her name.

“Nimeithel, have you seen Eldôr,” he asked as he stepped into the hall. It was Oropher. Even as his father, I was taken aback.

“Why would I know where Eldôr is just now,” she asked him.

“You know everything, Nimeithel,” he teased. “You and your sister both.”

“If that were true, then I would know from where you were coming and to where you were going next.”

“You know where,” Oropher said quietly. “I told you, remember?”

She smiled at him—I could see she was having fun with him.

“I know not where but Celeborn wishes to go with you. He looks to you as a brother as much as Galathil.”

“I know,” he said.

“If I may, I will go my way,” she said.

As she left I could see my son’s demeanor had changed.

“Oropher, is something the matter,” I asked approaching him.

“Nothing, Ada,” he said, his face flushed. “I was looking for Eldôr.”

“Were you?”

“Yes, of course,” he snapped. “Have you seen him?”

“No,” I answered.

“Are you going to combat,” he asked me.

“What would you know of it?”

“We have seen you,” he began. “From the keep. When will I get to become a warrior?”

“There is no hurry, Oropher,” I said as we walked together toward the throne room. “You are still young.”

I could tell by his expression that he did not think himself too young for anything. As we walked, we met Valdôr. He seemed distracted.

“Something amiss,” I asked him.

“Where is Eldôr,” Oropher asked.

“He seeks your company in our quarters,” he said.

Oropher went on his way swiftly.

“Valdôr, you are not yourself.”

“I am,” he said. “Who else would I be?”

“You know what I mean,” I said. “What has you distracted?”

“I caught sight of the naugrim.”

“I beg your pardon,” I asked. “What is a naugrim?”

“They are rather small,” he said, lowering his hand. “Such as this.”

I stood before him puzzled.

“They are hideous,” he added.

I stared at him thinking he had gone mad. I stopped Iarûr as he was passing.

“Iarûr, what is a naugrim?”

“Oh, the nogothrim,” he said. “They are small.”

He lowered his hand.

“So I hear,” I said. “What are they other than small?”

“They created all that you see around you. They are the masters of stone and weapons of war.”

“They are hideous,” Valdôr said.

“Now, Valdôr, they are as they were meant to be,” Iarûr answered. “No more and no less.”

“Where are they now,” I asked beginning to fear what I might see.

“Somewhere around here,” Iarûr said. “Valdôr was fortunate to have met one of the more majestic of their kin.”

Valdôr gave us a weak smile. Iarûr laughed and continued away. I pat Valdôr on his shoulder and went into the throne room. I thought nothing more of the naugrim as I met Êlengolas with Galathil and Galadhon. I looked around and noticed there were no others with us.

“Where is everyone,” I asked.

Before they could answer, Thingol and Elmo entered the room with a small creature with so much hair, I could barely see its eyes.

“Is that…,” I began.

“One of the naugrim,” Êlengolas whispered. “I see you have spoken to Valdôr. He has yet to get over how small they are.”

We towered over this creature yet it did not seem to fear us.

“Orothôn,” Elmo greeted me. “It is good of you to come.”

“This is Ónarr of Nogrod,” Thingol said. “He and his people are the wielders of stone and smith work.”

This creature walked over to us—his clear blue eyes now visible beneath his unruly black hair and beard.

“It is a pleasure to meet Your Highnesses,” he said bowing to us.

“For us as well,” I said. I looked at Êlengolas, Galathil, and Galadhon—their faces aghast.

“I have seen you wield a sword,” Ónarr continued. “I am impressed with how easily you have come to know it.”

“Thank you,” I answered. “If not for its craftsmen, it would not have the ease for which to wield.”

Ónarr smiled as an elf entered the room.

“Your Majesty,” he said to Thingol. “Might I speak with you in private?”

“Of course, Cúthalion,” Thingol answered.

We bowed as they left us.

“What is happening, Father,” Galadhon asked Elmo.

“There is nothing for you to concern yourself with,” he said. “We are well protected in this land.”

“If we were so protected, then what need would we have for weapons of war,” Galathil asked.

“There are rumblings, within the mountains in the North,” Ónarr said. “My people have known of it for some time.”

“What lies there,” Êlengolas asked.

“I cannot say for certain, but it is dark in nature.”

Elmo seemed concerned at Ónarr’s words. We stood in silence—our imaginations alive with visions of the unknown.”–TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller 12-11-2018.

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. 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 I: Awakened (Pt. IV)

“It was not long thereafter our kindred began our march westward—leaving the shores of the lake by which we had awakened. I walked beside Mîrwen and her brothers not far behind her father. I had yet to lay my eyes upon him or his brother they called Elwë, but I was in no hurry to do so.

Under the light of stars, nothing told the passing of days or nights. From the moment of our departure from Lake Cuiviénen, I would find myself looking back until it was out of view and lost to us forever. It was soon that we had entered into a great forest. Beneath the stars, its true colors remained hidden waiting for the coming of the sun.

“They call this place Eryn Galen,” Iarûr said. “And we shall rest here before we continue westward.”

“For how long,” I asked as Valdôr and Lothluin prepared to rest beneath one of the many mighty trees that had arisen from the soft ground under foot.
Mîrwen left me with a word and I began to feel alone as couples were finding a place to be together. Êlengolas and Valdúmîr stood with Finëar and Nenduriel speaking with Galadhon. When they looked toward me, I knew he was searching for me.

“Orothôn,” he said approaching. “Mîrwen sent me to bring you to her.”
“Where has she gone,” I asked concerned.

“She went to find our father so he might learn of you. Come.”

I obeyed the request thought not without trepidation. Of the chosen, I would be nothing in their presence. Even though as I was awakened as they, I was far less noble. We walked through the wood and past many elves that congregated together. There were far more than I had realized—each as unique as they were beautiful.

We arrived at our destination were Mîrwen stood beside an elven maiden of astounding beauty. Her hair of white gold flowed behind her—her eyes of gray reflected all she looked upon; telling everyone the story of our kin with every gaze. Her complexion was fair and seemed to have a light of its own.

“Mother,” Galadhon said. “I have found him.”

“So I see,” she said, her voice a song unto itself. “Your father wishes a word with you and Galathil. Do not keep him waiting.”

Galadhon nodded and took his leave as his mother looked me over. I could not feel my breath nor hear my heart beating.

“You are Orothôn,” she finally said. “The one that has the heart of my daughter.”
“I am,” I said, my voice shaking. “I am Orothôn.”

“I am Orowen, wife of Elmo,” she said. “I do not know what you have been told of either of us, but I know a great deal of you for my daughter has not stopped speaking. May I ask your intention?”

“I love no other but Mîrwen,” I heard myself say. I had little knowledge of where those words came from but I meant them.

“You ask for her hand, then,” Orowen said, her face softening into a smile.

“With your blessing and the blessing of her father.”

Orowen gave a gentle laugh as she took my hand.

“Elmo will give his blessing, I am sure,” she said. “For whosoever makes his daughter happy will give him joy. I can see you are a noble elf and I can see the love you have for Mîrwen in your eyes.”

“When will father come, Nana,” Mîrwen asked desperately. “I can hardly wait for him to meet Orothôn.”

“In time, daughter,” Orowen said. “He speaks with Elwë and Lenwë just now. Go your way—both of you. Await word from me until then.”

She nodded toward several elven maiden waiting her as Mîrwen pulled me away.

“Your mother is as gracious as she is beautiful.” I said as we went our way.

“She has a way with my father that no one has. Not even his brothers are as close, though he loves them no less.”

“You have a way with me as well,” I said looking into her eyes. “No one will ever have me as you do.”

“I feel the same, Orothôn,” she answered. “Come, I found a place for us.”

Mîrwen led me to a quaint thicket nearby with a canopy of small trees covering it. We sat together for a time—her hand in mine—listening to the sounds of nature blended with the whispers of elves. I noticed she was watching my expression with fascination. I turned to her and caressed her face. Something inside me drew me to her lips. I allowed me to touch hers. She was not afraid of this and our first kiss was filled a natural desire that would never die. For a moment, our lips parted and Mîrwen met my eyes.

“I love you, Orothôn,” she whispered. “I cannot wait to be with you as your wife.”

“I cannot wait either,” I said kissing her again. “For now, this will suffice, my love.”

I took her into my arms and lay her down—all the while losing myself in her eyes. We kissed again—deeper and more urgently. I had a wanting for her I did not understand. I felt a warmth fill my body for the first time that I didn’t want to end. We held each other; our lips seldom parting except for the occasional lament that  fueled our love for one another. I did not want this to end, but we both wanted more. We seemed impatient yet satisfied being next to each other.

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

Emerging from our sanctuary, there seemed a flurry of excitement as elves wandered around the forest. When we caught the eye of Iarûr and Nimríel. We went to them to ask.

“Iarûr,” I siad as a few elves swiftly passed between us. “What is amiss?”

“Not a thing,” he answered.

“Elwë comes forth,” Nimríel said, motioning aside.

We looked to see three majestic elves standing higher than all others.

“Father,” Mîrwen said excitedly. “He is with Elwë, his brother.”

“Yes,” Iarûr said curiously. And with them is Lenwë.”

Elwë stood between the others—his presence indescribable. Shoulders broad, sharpened eyes of endless depth set upon a strong yet delicate faces as a wave of golden hair that even in starlight there could be little doubt of its for or of the importance of he elf it had the privilege to originate. 

His brother was no less magnificent though his countenance seems more sanguine in the moment. Elmo shared his bothers looks save his eyes were quiet and fare less restless. Lenwë seem overwrought by his companions—with hair darker than the others but gold nonetheless. He seemed distant from his equals; his eyes darting here and there with little purpose.

“Where is Mîrwen,” Elwë asked, his voice reverberating around us. It was then I noticed the mountains rising above us in the North.

“I am here, Uncle,” she yelled happily, pulling me with her toward the greatest of our kin. 

I noticed Galathil and Galadhon nearby with another elf trying to hide their amusement. When we were before them, I felt a fear I never had before—one stronger than when the Earth shook. Elwë and his bother looked at us—their faces stoic and frightening.

“Daughter,” Elmo said smiling. “Is this the one you have chosen?”

“Yes, Ada,” she said proudly. “This is Orothôn.”

“You have chosen Mîrwen,” Elwë asked me.

“I have,” I said. “I loved her the moment I saw her.”

“Elmo,” he said to his brother. “What say you?”

Elmo came closer to us, a look of happiness was in his eyes. He embraced me—something I never expected but found soothing.

“I say to you both, I give my blessing,” he said. “This is truly glorious.”

“If Elmo has your blessing,” Elwë began. “Then you have mine.”

There was a rise of cheers among the elves as Elwë nodded toward us then disappeared with Elmo and Lenwë. Galathil and Galadhon nodded with their companion and quickly went away with the others. I did not understand what had happened until Orowen came to us.

“You have been joined, my daughter, my son,” she said kissing us both on the cheek. “I am pleased for you both.”

She took her leave beside another elven maiden of her stature and beauty with earthen hair; her eyes carried a sadness that was out of place among others.

“I am pleased for you,” I heard Êlengolas said.

“As am I,” Valdúmîr said embracing Mirwen. “I know you are happy and so you will remain.”

I was overcome with every emotion that resided within me. Valdôr and Lothluin, Iarûr and Nimríel, and Finëar and Nenduriel came with their words of praise until the crowds had subsided. Mîrwen made her way back to our sanctuary. I took my time—wondering what would happen, if anything.

Once I was with her, I heard a rustling at our entrance. It had been covered—the world outside shut out of view. I looked at Mîrwen and noticed her white gown for the first time. It was different now as it revealed her figure to me. I began to feel that desire for her but feared it had grown too strong.

“Orothôn,” she began. “Are you afraid?”

“Yes,” I said quickly. “Very much afraid.”

“So am I,” she said almost relieved.

She walked around our sanctuary, moving gracefully around. She placed her hand on the trunk of a tree whose tops were well above us.

“I had a vision,” she started. “I saw many things that frightened me. There were battles and a great suffering that would last far beyond this age we come upon. But I also saw joy and happiness. From our love will come great kinds and one that will bring peace to this world. All will come form our union and from this land we stand upon.”

“When did you see this, Mîrwen,” I asked.

“While I was with mother,” she answered. “She said this was a gift; to see things to come.”

“Then it must be as she has said.”

Mîrwen looked at me, her face troubled. She turned away then back to me. She placed her hands upon her sleeves and slowly pushed them from her shoulders and to her waist. She let it fall from her waist to the ground baring to me her body and soul. I went to her cautiously. I touched her face and kissed her lips. I felt her undress me until I felt the coolness of the air on my skin.

“Do not be afraid, my love,” I whispered. “I will protect you with my life and love you with all my heart and all my soul forever and longer.”

“I am never afraid when I am with you, Orothôn, my love, my husband,” she whispered. “I give to you all my love with all my heart and all my soul forever and longer.”

We moved closer together and began to kiss. As we felt our love rise to the surface, Mîrwen pulled away. Looking into my eyes, she led me to our marital bed and lay down. I joined her and it was in that moment our love would bring forth our greatest treasure—Oropher.”––TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by J.Marie Miller 8-19-2017

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 VII: Darkness Falls (Pt. IV)

Building continued for what seemed an eternity. Whenever I was in the library, Iarûr would tell me what the princess Lúthien thought of her new chambers. Nothing and no one could persuade Thingol’s mind to reconsider—not even his Queen. Oropher said very little other than Nimeithel’s own displeasure with the future arrangement. Rather than spending their time with Lúthien together, her ladies were split to cater to her by night or by day. Nimeithel and her sister Valdúril were assigned the day while, surprisingly, Galadriel was given the evening alongside Níndi.

When construction was completed, there was little fanfare made as Lúthien entered with her mother, Orowen and all their ladies. We wondered how all of them could fit into what appeared to be a rather small space. When Mîrwen returned one evening, she told me the chambers were quite spacious. Hírilorn was a mighty tree with high branches nearly as thick as its 3 trunks. There were guards to protect them all—though I knew better.

Things returned to again to order. One evening, when Lúthien was at dinner, I could not help to notice how forlorn she seemed. She barely ate a thing even as she would engage with her parents solemnly. After dinner, while in our room, Mîrwen seemed agitated.

“Is something on your mind,” I asked, removing my coat.

“Did you see the princess,” she said from behind her dressing screen. “She was completely miserable.”

“Her father sent her beloved on what can only be called a death sentence then locked her away inside the elaborate chamber of a great tree to keep her from chasing after him,” I said. “How happy could she possibly be?”

She came out from behind her screen and sat on the bed.

“I feel just horrible for her,” she continued as she was watched me remove my shirt. “I wish Uncle would listen to reason.”

“His daughter is his greatest treasure,” I said sitting beside her. “He only wishes to protect her.”

“Would you do such a thing to your daughter?”

“I have a son,” I said.

“If he were your daughter, then?”

“Mîrwen, we have a very handsome son but I could never imagine him a daughter—not without laughing hysterically.”

Mîrwen glared at me.

“I am being serious, Orothôn,” she said.

“So am I,” I answered.

“I know nothing of mortals, but I hope he returns for Lúthien’s sake,” she said.

“Hope is all anyone can have for now,” I whispered as I kissed her lips gently.

Before we could become swept away, there came a knock on our doors.

“Enter,” I said, furiously, My anger cooled when Eldôr, Amdir, and Oropher entered.

“What is it,” I asked, standing before them.

“She is gone,” Oropher said.

“Who is gone,” Mîrwen asked.

“Lúthien,” Amdir answered. “She slipped away into the night.”

Just then, dressers appeared with my clothes.

“How does ones slip away from an impenetrable fortress,” I asked.

“Apparently, quite easily,” Eldôr said softly.

When I was dressed, I turned to Mîrwen.

“I will return,” I said.

“I know,” she said, kissing me.

We left quickly for the throne room. By the time we reached the main vestibule, there were soldiers on their way out of the main gates. We continued into the main hall where Elmo spoke with the king as he sat on his throne in despair. Galathil and Galadhon met us.

“How did this happen,” I asked Galadhon.

“No one saw a thing,” he answered. “One moment she was there and the next she was gone.”

“Love will find a way,” Galathil said softly.

“Love,” Thingol shouted from across the room as he rose from his throne. “What do you know of love? What do any of you know of love? I love my daughter—my only child who has left me for a mere mortal she has barely known a tenth of her lifetime! You, all of you, you will find her and bring her to me. I do not care how long it takes.”

Broken, he left the room leaving Elmo in his stead. He approached us, his face stoic.

“I do not expect anyone to spend a lifetime searching for Lúthien,” he began. “Just do what you can and return him when you need rest. We have plenty of soldiers to go beyond these borders if need be.”

“What will we do if she cannot be found,” Galathil asked.

“Find her,” Elmo said and left us to our task. We searched everywhere to the borders of Doriath with no sign of Lúthien. The princes of the realm returned empty-handed. Other soldiers journeyed beyond Doriath—some would return while others were lost to time.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 10-5-2019

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.

“In Beleriand, King Thingol upon his throne was as the lords of the Maiar whose power is at rest, whose joy is as an air that they breathe in all their days, whose thought flows in a tide untroubled from the heights to the deeps.”
The Silmarillion, JRR Tolkien

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