Long after the audience, I sat beneath a tree underneath the stars. It had been far too long since I had spent time outside that did not require preparing for a war against unknown forces. I thought about the naug—he was friendly enough though others found him beneath their stature in height and in existence. I thought more about his words. What did his people know about what lingered in the North?
As I thought to myself, I was making an heirloom to pass on to Oropher one day.
“I thought I would find you here,” I heard Mîrwen said.
“You spoke to Êlengolas, have you,” I said without looking away from my task.
“Of course,” she said sitting beside me. “Tell me, what is a naug?”
“A naug is rather small,” I answered.
“Is that all,” she giggled. “Oropher is rather small as well but I would hardly call him a naug.”
“Oropher is taller,” I answered putting my work away. “They are small fully grown. They come from the mountains East of Beleriand where they reside.”
“What do you think of these creatures,” she asked me.
“Our time was short and I only met one of them,” I said. “He seemed wise and was pleasant enough.”
“Nana says their kind helped to build Menegroth but said little else on the matter.”
“Has she seen them?”
“No,” Mîrwen answered. “Is it true they had a hand it its foundation?”
“Iarûr said as much,” I began. “He knows many things. I take him at his word.”
“If these creatures created such things of beauty, then they must be good at heart.”
“Perhaps,” I said. “Enough about the naugrim.”
I kissed her. She smiled at me.
“What do you wish to talk about, Orothôn,” she whispered.
“Why must we talk about anything,” I asked as I kissed her again.
“Because,” she whispered. “Talking would have a far smaller audience.”
Mîrwen motioned for me to look away. I saw a few curious elven boys watching us. I recognized the smallest as Celeborn, the youngest son of Galadhon among them—a look of perplexity across his face.
“Oropher,” he began. “Those are your parents.”
“Yes,” my son said with a smirk across his face. “So they are.”
“Why are they out here,” another chimed in.
“Because, Amdir,” I started as I rose, offering Mîrwen my hand. “We thought we were alone.”
“You should go to one of the keeps,” Eldôr said. “That is where my parents go.”
All heads turned to Eldôr.
“To do what,” Celeborn asked innocently. “What could you do up there?”
“I shall explain when you are older,” Galathil said.
“Why are you boys out here,” Mîrwen asked.
“We were sent to find the girls,” Galathil answered. “On the orders of King Thingol.”
“The girls,” I asked.
“Yes,” Eldôr said. “The Lady Lúthien is quite lively. She takes to wandering frequently. Nimeithel and Valdúril are no help at all. They give in to her every whim.”
“She takes after her mother,” Mîrwen said under her breath.
“Then we saw you,” Celeborn added with a smile.
“So you did,” Mîrwen said, leaning down to his height. “Would you care to escort a maiden into the palace?”
“Yes,” he said eagerly.
“I shall see you inside,” she said to me.
As they left, I turned to Galathil and the others.
“I know the king would not send ones so young to find his daughter unless there was discord sown between them.”
They stood in silence before me—their expressions attempting to hide their thoughts.
“No more than one would expect between a parent and a child,” Galathil answered. “But in times such as these, there is much to worry about.”
“What have you heard,” I asked. I was in awe at Galathil’s demeanor—he had grown wise beyond his years.
“Father those me the reasons why the Eldalië prepare for war. An ancient evil resides in this world.”
“What is this evil,” I asked. I was hoping he would say what others would not.
“He would not say for the time of revelation has not come.”
“Does Galadhon know when that time comes,” I asked.
Before he could answer, we heard the sound of young maidens laughing. Four beautiful elven girls spoke among themselves as they approached. They stopped abruptly.
“Galathil,” the fairest of them began. “Where you looking for me?”
“Yes, Lúthien,” he said. “You know well I was.”
I recognized all but one—a quiet elf whose eyes had fallen on Amdir as his eyes were upon her.
“I know of the dangers of this world,” Lúthien continued. “I would never wander too far from the gates. My father has little to worry about. I would never put my ladies in harm’s way.”
Lúthien’s eyes fell upon me—her wonder as disarming as her beauty.
“You are Orothôn,” she asked. “Father of Oropher?”
“Yes, Your Highness, I said softly.
She smiled at me and nodded as she motioned to Nimeithel, Valdúril, and the other as they continued on their way into the palace.
“You do not recognize her,” Oropher whispered to me. “The other elleth. She is Anadriel, sister of Eäros.”
I looked at her once more.
“So it is,” I whispered. “Time has been good to her.”
“Lúthien goes her own way,” Galathil grumbled. “For all her beauty, it will be hard to find a suitor for her.”
“She will find one on her own,” Eldôr said. “I can only imagine who he will be.”
“Come,” I began. “We need to make our way inside.”
At that moment, there came a low rumble and a shaking from beneath. It reminded me of a time before we left Lake Cuiviénen. This was something beyond this world. We looked at one another. We knew things were about to change our lives forever.
**** **** **** ****
I entered my chambers to find them empty. Mîrwen must be with her mother, I thought to myself. I took from my pocket the heirloom I was creating. I managed to shape the wood I took from our first sanctuary long ago. Fashioned within pieces of nature along our journey. I placed it inside a small wooden box.
I looked around—the silence was unnerving. I went into Oropher’s chambers. He was not there. Though I felt my fear misplaced, that did not keep my mind from chaos. I decided that everyone was on their way to supper. I was not hungry. I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes.
There was destruction and flames everywhere. The clashing of swords and shields rang throughout the land. Tears fell from the eyes of mothers and their children. Amidst the battle cries, I heard a voice calling my name.
“Orothôn,” the voice called to me.
I look around but could not find the source. I realized I was standing in a sea of the fallen. The voice continued to call my name.
“Where are you,” I yelled over the sounds of war. “Where are you?”
I looked in all directions but could not find the voice.
“I am here,” I heard the voice in my ear. I turned to see an elf with golden hair and soft grey eyes.
“Who are you,” I asked him. He said nothing. He looked toward the battles. I asked him again.
“Who are you?”
He looked at me. There was a familiarity I saw in him.
“I am Orothôn,” he said. “But known by another name to last forever.”
“By what name,” I asked. “Tell me.”
As he was about to speak, all things fell into darkness. I was alone in nothingness.
“Who are you,” I yelled. “Where are you?”
“I am here,” a voice said. “Look at me.”
I opened my eyes to see Mîrwen looking down at me.
“Were you having a vision, Orothôn,” she asked.
“No,” I lied sitting up. “I am not as you.”
“I am not alone in that gift,” she said smiling. “Some choose to use it while others choose to ignore it. Then there are those that do not have the choice. They will see what the Heavens wish them to see.”
She slipped behind her dressing courier and emerged ready for the evening.
“What did you see,” she asked sitting beside me.
“It was not pleasant,” I answered. “Nothing I would dare tell another.“
“There is nothing pleasant about war, Orothôn.”
“How would you know,” I asked.
She looked at me—her eyes filling with tears.
“I have seen what you have seen,” she whispered. “I know the horrors that will come to pass.”
“Then I will spare you the details,” I said embracing her. “We will keep them to ourselves.”–TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller 01-25-2019.
I said nothing to Oropher about my vision. If he suspected anything, he said nothing. I put it out of my mind and life became routine once more. We heard little of the world beyond Doriath for a time that seemed longer than it was—when we returned to the realities of the world.
I was in the throne room with Orowen and Mîrwen early one morning before I was to meet Iarûr in the library.
“This younger generation of elves are so ambitious,” Orowen said to Mîrwen.
“Why do they wish to wait to start a family? Amdir wishes to follow Oropher’s example.”
“I do not know, Nana,” Mîrwen answered. “But I know Nimeithel agrees with her husband.”
“I have heard nothing from Anadriel,” Orowen said. “She keeps busy with Nimloth and Ëarmîr.”
“From what I understand, Nimeithel has her own hands full keeping up with Lúthien,” I added. “I do not know when she would find the time to start a family.”
“Have you not heard,” Orowen began. “Lúthien will have new accommodations soon.”
“New accommodations,” I asked curiously.
“On uncle’s orders,” Mîrwen said. “For her safety.”
“What could be safer than Menegroth,” I asked. “Are you sure you heard correctly?”
They nodded as Oropher approached with Celeborn.
“Good morning, Ada,” he said cheerfully.
“Have you heard of new accommodations for the Princess Lúthien,” I asked.
Celeborn looked down as Oropher sighed.
“I think you should come with us,” Oropher said.
I left with them for a short journey to a place where builders were constructing something around a tree. Overseeing the workers were Thingol, Elmo and both Galathils.
“This should keep my daughter secured and well-placed to have her ladies attend to her every whim,” I heard Thingol say.
As he turned to leave, we bowed to him.
“This should make things easier for Nimeithel,” he said to Oropher.
With that, he left with Elmo and his son.
“Galathil,” Celeborn said to his brother. “How are things?”
“Father was instructed to have me ensure things are done quickly and to the liking of the king.”
“May I ask what endangers the king’s daughter for him to go to such measures,” I asked.
“Love, I am afraid,” Galathil said. “What else is there?”
Oropher rolled his eyes.
“What is on your mind, son?”
“Nothing, Ada,” he said.
“Amdir and I overheard Saeros speaking to Iarûr,” Celeborn began. “Before you say it, Brother, I know it was bad form but they were in the hall in which we were walking.”
“You grow more like your wife every day,” Galathil said.
“As I was saying,” Celeborn continued. “Daeron informed the king of his daughter’s plans. I know not what they were, but I am quite sure it was her desire to follow the mortal on his quest.”
“Beren,” I asked. “How would anyone know where he is or if he lives?”
“There is no better way to know than to search,” Galathil said.
“So Thingol wishes Hírilorn turned into her gilded cage for her safety,” Celeborn added.
“That is rather extreme,” I whispered.
“These are dangerous times,” Galathil said.
“Made all the more dangerous by such a monstrosity,” Oropher added. “If she can get out of Menegroth, she will get out of this.”
“It is my duty to make sure that does not happen,” Galathil said sternly. “Our dear cousin is a bit unruly, as you well know.”
Oropher left abruptly and I went after him.
“Oropher,” I said as I caught up to him. “What is bothering you?”
“I can assure you, Father,” he began as he stopped walking. “Lúthien will not remain in that place for long.”
“How are you so sure,” I asked.
“There is nothing in this world that can keep the heart from what it will do for love, no matter how foolish.”
“It can be said to apply to a father for his daughter,” I answered. “We will do many foolish things for love.”
“Perhaps,” Oropher said more calmly. “But of two loves, only one will break its chains and change this world forever.”
He left me alone in shock at his words. Who was this man I called son and where were these profound revelations coming from?–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 9-22-2019
We entered the Great Hall to see a group of elves—all simply dressed in white. They kept their heads bowed in silence. The court around them speaking in whispers.
“When did they arrive,” I whispered to Amdir.
“Not long ago,” he answered. “They have yet to meet the king. He was made aware just as we came for you.”
At that moment, Mablung and Beleg entered with King Thingol, Queen Melian; Elmo and Orowen not far behind.
“You come from Eldamar,” King Thingol asked as he sat on his throne beside his queen. One brave elf raised his head and stepped forward.
“Originally,” the elf said. “I am Angrod, son of Finarfin. I come at the request of my brother Finrod in Mithrim.”
King Thingol’s expression turned pensive. After a brief silence, he spoke again.
“Son of Finarfin,” he began. “What brings you into my kingdom on this day?”
“I am quite sure as sovereign, you have long known of the deeds done in this world under darkness.“
“I am,” he nodded.
“The battles endured in the North could hardly go unnoticed by anyone, for the Noldo has triumphed against the demons come forth from Angband.”
“You numbers must be great if you if you were able to send those creatures back to whence they came.”
“Of our numbers, they account for much of your kin, King Thingol,” Angrod said. “Your dear brother is our grandfather after all.”
King Thingol nodded.
“How is he,” Queen Melian inquired.
“I have not seen him, Your Majesty,” he answered. “Not for some time.”
She nodded—her expression hiding secrets I would never know.
“We have come to dwell in Arda for now,” Angrod continued. “The sons of Fëanor and the children of his brothers find solace here despite the dangers that linger here.”
As King Thingol brought down his decree, I noticed Elmo watching a particular elf that stood behind Angrod. His gaze was uncomfortable as the elf tried to avert his stare.
“So it shall be,” I heard Angrod say at last. “I shall tell the lords what you have told me. As a guest in your land, may it be one day, you are a guest in ours.”
King Thingol nodded and the elves bowed.
“As our guests,” King Thingol began. “Please, stay with us for now. You may leave in the morning for Mithrim.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Angrod answered.
“Iarûr, show our guest to their quarters.”
Iarûr motioned to the elves to follow him. I saw Elmo whisper to Galadhon. His son followed the elves as King Thingol and Queen Melian took their leave. As the court dispersed I could not help but wonder who the elf was the held Elmo’s fascination.
“Father,” Oropher began, breaking my thoughts. “I am going to attend to my wife. I will see you and mother for dinner.”
“Of course,” I said smiling.
He walked away and I found my mind wandering again. I decided I should find Mîrwen and went straight to our room. When I entered, I found Mîrwen already prepared for dinner.
“I did not see you at court,” I said.
“I was not there,” she said. “I was attending to other duties.”
“So you already knew about the elves from Mithrim?”
“Yes,” she said cheerfully. “You need to prepare for dinner. I shall call for the servants.”
As she walked toward the chamber bell, I stopped her.
“Who is the elf that your father was staring at?”
“I do not know,” she said. “I was not at court.”
“Mîrwen,” I began.
“What,” she asked.
I looked at her sternly.
“He is a son of Olwë,” she said. “His name is Nimernil.”
Olwë—a name I had not heard in a lifetime. I found myself confused.
“I do not understand,” I said. “Why would he be here?
“That, dear husband, I do not know.”
She went to ring the bell.
“Say not a word to anyone.”
Before I could ask another question, the dressers were upon me. I tried to put the events of the day behind me. We dined with little concern about anything. Nothing was amiss–save for the presence of the mysterious Nimernil. Angrod sat with King Thingol and Elmo—their conversation appeared as reminiscing. When dinner was done, I prepared to retire with Mîrwen when Orowen came to us.
“Orothôn,” she began. “Elmo seeks your company.”
“Where is he,” I asked.
“I do not know, but Galathil will take you to him.”
I looked to see him standing with Galadhon. Immediately, I knew it was about Nimernil. I went to them quickly.
“Take me to Elmo,” I said.
“This is why you should never tell our sister anything,” Galadhon teased. “She tells her husband.”
Galathil cut his eye at him and motioned for us to follow. When we reached an empty room below the Throne Room beside the armory, I noticed Elmo waiting with Eäros. He was looking far better than he had before the wars had begun. When we were alone, out of the darkness stepped the elf from before. He was as tall as elves are—his golden hair flowing past his shoulders. He looked at us—his grey eyes far less restless than they were in court.
“Are you whom they call Nimernil,” I asked.
For the first time, this elf smiled and laughed softly.
“That is what they call me, but it is not my name,” he answered. “I am Súlwë, the youngest son of Olwë.”
‘Why are you here,” Galadhon asked.
“I took leave from Alqualondë without my father’s knowledge. I had to know what was so precious in this world that would cause such destruction in the other.”
“Destruction,” Galadhon asked.
“There was an uprising,” he said, solemnly. “Let by Fëanor, son of Finwë. I know nothing of the circumstances. I just know our kin in Alqualondë suffered greatly.”
“My brother,” Elmo gasped. “Is he…?”
“No,” Súlwë answered. “He lives. But the price we paid was indeed enormous. I followed the elves out of our homeland. Those that did not take our ships from the Havens came across the Helcaraxë. It was these I followed from Araman.”
Elmo slowly took a seat on a bench in shock.
“That must have been horrible,” Galathil said.
“There were many that died on the way,” Súlwë said, his voice cracking as he tried to hide his sadness. “For those who made it, not even the rising of the Daystar could bring them light.”
We stood in silence; our voices could not find the words.
“You must go back,” I said finally.
“Impossible,” Súlwë said curtly. “Those who left are in exile. Though my hands are clean, I am afraid I am as well. What is left of home for me was lain to waste.”
“Stay with us,” Eäros said.
“Who knows of your true identity,” Elmo asked, distraught.
“No one,” Súlwë answered.
“Very well,” Elmo said calmly. “You may stay in my household but when a way is made, you will return to Olwë. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Uncle,” Súlwë answered.
Elmo nodded as he looked at me.
“He will stay with you, Orothôn. Oropher is the only I know that can keep a secret.”
“I beg your pardon, Father,” Galadhon said. “I am offended.”
“Do not be,” Elmo said. “Whatever you say to Celebriel she will keep from your mother. Same for Nárwen and Níndi. I take my leave.”
Elmo left with his sons close behind. I looked as Súlwë. “Welcome to Menegroth,” I said.–TKWRTBook I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 6-11-2019
Silmarillion Characters | Thindrim|The House of Elmo
Galathil was the eldest son of Galadhon and Celeblas, He did not follow his younger brother Celeborn over the mountains after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, and perished in the Sacking of Doriath.
Sindarin Portraits pt2: Celeborn, Galathil, Mablung, and Beleg.
Here’s my chance to give Celeborn and Galathil some attention! There’s nothing much special about their designs other than being regular Doriath fashion XDD And since they’re close kin to Thingol, they have flower crowns!
Beleg and Mablung have similar colours due to being captains of Doriath. I neglected to include Mablung’s small braids and feather ornaments; if I ever draw him again, I’ll be sure to include those loll
