#the epic of eryn galen

tkwrtrilogy3:

Chapter VIII: The Rise of the Fall (Pt. III)

The discussion was long since forgotten as time became routine once more. Life took on a malignant monotony that was tenuous at best. I knew the world was changing beyond the borders of Menegroth—Oropher would speak of it whenever he had the mind to wander near them to see for himself. As duty remained my shadow while I worked  in the library, curiosity became the obligation of the younger generations.

It seemed all but King Thingol feared the loss of Lúthien, though his grief in her absence was felt throughout Menegroth. Iarûr  would tell us often how fragile his emotions had become even as he attempted to appear as the mighty king he was before. Mîrwen would tell me how stoic queen Melian remained—her thoughts as distant as the stars. Whatever ancient wisdom or prophecy she knew, she kept to herself.

One day, while the ladies of the court were called to attend to Galadriel, I decided to leave the library with Súlwë for a short stroll outside. It seemed ages since we had seen the sun. The dimly lit caverns had started to remind me of the time before the rising of the Daystar. 

It was a clear day—neither warm nor cool. The air was crisp but the wind still as we crossed the bridge.

“How is Galadriel,” I asked.

“From what Celeborn has told me, she is quite well,” Súlwë answered. “But I doubt either of us truly know what it is like to be with child.”

“Mîrwen says she is due any day,” I added.

“I hope so for Celeborn’s sake. His expression has been one of panic as of late.”

“How can you tell,” I asked teasingly.

Súlwë laughed softly.

“Let us hope this elfling brings some joy to Menegroth,” he said. “It is much needed.”

“Yes, it is,” I answered. “It is far too dark for the First-Born these days.”

“Darkness is everywhere, Orothôn,” he began. “I came from light that was dimmed by the very heart of that darkness. It shall linger far longer than our time.”

“Then perhaps this elfling will be a respite from it,” I whispered.

We walked in silence for a time—listening to the sounds of nature. Upon our return, we were met on the bridge by Finëar and Saeros.

“Orothôn,” Finëar said, his voice winded from running. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“For me,” I asked.

“You are part of the royal family, are you not,” Saeros asked.

“What is it,” I asked, gruffly.

“The Lady Galadriel has given birth to a daughter,” Finëar said. “Go on, now. Oropher has your place.”

Súlwë nodded and I took my leave into Menegroth. Once inside, Êlengolas  was waiting.

“You are late,” he said.

“How can one be late for something that has no timetable,” I asked as we began walking toward our destination.

“We are Eldar,” he said. “We know everything.”

“We are male,” I added. “You must have us confused with the elleth.”

“I do not know about you, Orothôn, but I am married to one that cannot help but speak and I am compelled to listen.”

It was not long before we stood before two doors that was opened for us. I entered to see Galadriel lying in bed surrounded by the ladies of the court beside Queen Melian. I bowed to the Queen as Celeborn approached holding a tiny bundle with soft golden hair upon the whitest of skin.

“Is she not beautiful, Orothôn,” he asked beaming.

“Yes,” I said. “What do you call her?”

“Celebrían,” he said as his new daughter cooed.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful elfling,” I started. “What has the king said of her?”

“He has not seen her,” he said.

“Not seen her,” I asked. “I was told I was late.”

“He did not come,” Celeborn whispered. “Perhaps the birth of a daughter is too painful for him.”

In that moment, the doors opened again. It was King Thingol with Cúthalion and Mablung beside with Daeron and Saeros close behind.

“Your Majesty,” Celeborn and I said together.

“Is this the elfling born to Galadriel,” Thingol asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Celeborn answered.

The king looked upon the child as she opened her eyes. A slight smile came across his face.

“She is beautiful,” he said. “What is her name?”

“Celebrían, Your Majesty,” Celeborn answered again.

“Fitting name,” Thingol began. “You and your wife have my warmest congratulations on the birth of your daughter. Melian, a word if I may.”

We bowed as the Queen walked across the room and left with her husband and his guard. Celebrían began to cry as Celeborn returned her to Galadriel. The room itself seemed to sigh in relief after King Thingol left. Oropher come to me from is place beside the other princes.

“We did not think he would come,” he whispered to me.

“Is that what the Queen said,” I asked.

“No, Iarûr.”

“He spoke with him prior?”

“Not that I am aware,” Oropher began. “But Angband has awakened once more.”

“Angband?”

“Something has brought it to life,” he said. “What is the question.”

I was afraid to know and knew better not to speculate. The day was good and I wanted it to remain as such.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 02-23-2020

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 the absence of Lúthien, a new elfling is born–even as Angband begins to rumble.

Newsfeed #120 March 29, 2020 (29 Súlimë)

COVID-19 IMMEDIATE STATEMENT: IT HIT US HARD.

Not to spend more time than is necessary on what has taken so long to work on The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm TrilogyandThe House of Durin, but it was Coronavirus Related.

My writing partner and author of The House of Durin is in the Italian Epicenter. Just recently, my world has experienced rapid growth of this deadly virus. At this moment in time, neither one of us has coronavirus nor have we tested positive*.

The decision to continue work, at first, was a matter of despair until today when one of my readers tested positive and said goodbye in preparation for imminent death. It was heartbreaking but heartfelt as they ask that I would continue my work on TKWRT as well as the new book due to begin in May of this year—The Secret of the House of Bourbon.

Please read my entire statement here and I look forward to the continuing adventures of The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy.—Jaynaé Marie Miller.

*Subject to change (though we are both in quarantine).

Newsfeed #110 December 30, 2018 (30 Ringarë)

THANK YOU FOR READING–MORE TO COME IN 2019.

I was initially prepared to post an excerpt for Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen when I came upon some horrific human food that put me down for some time this evening. I’ve finally evolved into an elf so Lembas, it is then. Water, Lettuce and Lembas will be my new diet. I hope that will be enough to sustain me for when I resume sword fighting again.

Anyway, it has been quite the year–in spite of losing my father in October. He’d be proud to know his little gift from me has garnered 6700+ views on WordPress in less than six months. I credit much of that to my father–when I announced his death, my stats jumped up like the rock star he was. That, children, is how you get a mountain named after you in Antarctica (that’s true, my father has one of those for his work in the field of Chemistry). I have some very large shoes to fill on my journey through the rest of my life. Perhaps I’ll make my mark in writing. I think I’m getting good at it. ☺️ Better, anyway.

I wanted everyone to that I’m going to start posting the Character Appendix again. I think it’s time now; there are an awful lot of new characters to get you lost–just like a Tolkien book.

You’ll thank me later: https://officialwptkwrt.wordpress.com/characters/

Also, great news! Someone taught me how to work this Tumblr thing. I’m only good for writing–I am horrible with all that technical stuff. They had to do a pictorial. As soon as I figure it out, The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy will have a Table of Contents just like on WordPress. It will make it so much easier to read. I’m gathering @fortunatelyclevercandy is going to do the same with The House of Durin: @thehouseofdurin . It will help you get through the (now) over 1000 pages of The Elvenking and his wonderful world.

This is what I do now–full time. I’m so busy with it, I’m going to need a new assistant. I can be hard to deal with but I’m reasonably adorable. Such is the life of The Elvenking of the Woodland Realm. 

Thank you for reading my little story. I’m glad it’s an interesting read. I put my little heart into it for over three years now. Just celebrated my 3rd Anniversary on Tumblr (December 22). I love writing this story (and all of them; one book down, four to go).

You helped to make my father’s dream come true–you helped make his youngest child an author. He’s somewhere smiling now–with Professor Tolkien, I hope. I’m looking forward to 2019. You have a year to go for the next release of Book II: The Saga of Thranduil. I think you’re going to like it.

You haven’t seen anything yet. I can’t wait for you to find out what Thranduil is like when his only daughter (Isílriel) introduces her father to her chosen soulmate. And wait until you meet Elranduil’s daughter. (Yeah, the cousins have to do everything together). Happy Holidays!

Newsfeed #99 April 2, 2018 (2 Víressë)

BRACE YOURSELF–CHANGES ARE COMING.

Not a great deal of changes–just Stepford Wives kinda changes. All my web presences much change for the betterment of mankind: or in order to prove I’m worthy of a little blue check thing in order to separate my work from others (mostly Tolkien) and so people stop thinking I’m a fan of my own work.

I’ve seen fan art of The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy; I’ve seen the really weird hashtag “tkwr fan fiction”, “the saga of thranduil movie” even. It’s creepy. I don’t have 10,000 followers, but I do have a number of NYT Best-Selling Authors and a handful of celebrities and bucket full of publishers over on Twitter (Models love Thranduil on Instagram–and he’s starting to pick up a lot of male readers) so it’s time to become “bona-fide” as it were.

I have to clean up my act, so to speak.

So, no more politics on my personal pages; deleting tons of unrelated things on my blogs (not the book blogs; relax), possibly deleting whole sites I don’t use anymore) changing descriptions, designs & layouts–the whole shebang. Even my name: going by Jaynaé Marie Miller (my birth name actually complete with the little accent).✅ It’s kinda like an audition for Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, as it were. I guess it would have happened eventually–I was thinking by the time I was sixty or dead–but oh, well.

This will take a while–but I’m hoping to be done by May 1 because that is the start of Legolas’ Birthday Month and in June another release is coming. There’s still the matter of other things (podcasts and websites for the actual book, but baby steps, first).

I won’t be commenting on things for a while–sorry about that. I have to unblock people (wow, I guess I’ll have to talk to my family again) and my professional résumé will be out there in the world for all to see (which does include poetry, plays and screenplays). As if getting bunch of elves to Doriath isn’t hard enough, I have to go ‘public’ with them all.

Not that I wasn’t public in the first place, it’s just that this is kinda like being famous or something. It’s pretty serious now: I mean, aside from the great reviews and actual book critics just waiting for a “real book” to rip me to shreds, I can’t even look for Elrond without running into myself on Google these days. 

I even have fake celebrities–yeah, that’s not the real Richard, I follow the real one. But this account seems to mirror him; I haven’t looked in a while and I lost a few people–equaling about the number of fake celebrities following me. I don’t know if they thought I was a fake celebrity but if they did, I’m sorta flattered but I know at least one I talk to, so at least he knows who I am–our cats match (no, it isn’t Lee Pace–later–but the guy does know Richard Armitage, the realone).

So, I’m making a few changes to reflect the on-coming storm of “strange and unusual” that’s coming. Never thought I’d make it to the day I would have to become “verified”.

Just like Lee.  

Welcome to the next chapter for the Elves of Mirkwood.

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

Newsfeed #97 March 8, 2018 (8 Súlimë)

NEW BOOK ANNOUNCEMENT: THE STAND-ALONE SAGA

First of all, I’m not dropping everything to write this particular book (I don’t know why people fear that). The “new” book is not as “new” as I am implying. The story (like the trilogy) is a long and winding one.

When I began outlining the Elves of Mirkwood, naturally people wonder “where are all these elves coming from. For example, it is no secret Thranduil’s cousin Elranduil married a Noldorin (Ardúin) and Thranduil’s wife is a Nandor (Danwaith)–the last of the remaining ones. Nearly all of the main characters have a back story (and after stories), so I had written part of those around the time I began The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy. They were going to go into the Appendix (which at the time included Legolas’ Journals). When I changed the format of the book–having the story told by the four generation of elves–two being rulers and one being an heir to the Woodland Realm–I was free to do with the back stories what I wished–especially the one about the origins of Êlúriel.

It doesn’t have a title yet; it is not put together as well as the other books in the trilogy–even Legolas’ story is already planned from beginning to end. This new book will be part of the Appendix, unless it’s longer than 200 pages. There is a reason for that:

515 pages of Book II: The Saga of Thranduil (original version) is already a ream; its extended version will be at least 600pages in its final form and Book I and Book III are currently estimated to be 500-600pages each–then there’s the extended version of Book III which will more than likely be around 500-600pages long. When I put the trilogies together, that’s a lot of paper to add something 200+ pages long. I’m already over 1100 with Book I/Book II (both versions) not including Book III.

Tolkien’sThe Lord of the RingsTrilogy* in one volume is 1178 pages (including the Appendix; 1031w/o).So you can see I have a doorstop in the making. And even though this new “volume” will mesh with the trilogy (not unlike the STARZshowThe White Queen–based on three books by Philippa Gregory that tell three different sides of the same history; only in this case there’s several sides talking when you add Iarûr (Prologue of Book I) to the stories of Orothôn,Oropher,ThranduilandLegolas), I still have to decide at some point how long will it need to be to fit into the appendix or if it should just stand-alone.

I am still trying to decide whether to cut Book I in half as itself will contain two stories told by two elves–both crossing over at a pivotal event from one POV to another (hard to do especially I will have to eventually make that transition for all three of the original books). I do that, TKWRT won’t stand for TKWR TrilogybutTKWR Tetralogy. That won’t be decided until all three books are complete, though.

You are watching a novel in progress–I like to call it a reality show since readers are literally reading TKWR Trilogy in evolution. There’s is always something new coming around the corner and editing something like this requires someone that has flown over the Cuckoo’s Nest a few times and is literate in Tolkien Languages–especially Adûnaic. That hasn’t been added yet–nor has all of the Quenya. (Quenya is the hardest of the two Elven Languages known; That is why no one is out there selling “Learn Quenya” (even though Sindarin is Quendi for “Grey-Elven Language”). All the languages change with each new age/generation (as all languages do) which makes it impossible to say which “literary” version you are reading–and it gets worse with Tengwar where there’s far more to it than what most people think. 

Adûnaic is harder still, even though Akallabêth is “The Down Fallen” in Adûnaic in The Silmarillion. What you get to read now is my “short-hand” for some things in Sindarin that may be translated eventually into Quenya–especially in Eryn Galen. Oropher didn’t like Sindarin at all (hence why it was unknown whether Thranduil spoke it). There is a reason Oropher didn’t like it and unless you adore reading thousands of pages of Tolkien’s notes in the form of 12+ volumes of Middle Earth History and his other works, you won’t find that reason (mostly because Oropher is in only one book of all books dealing with ME Histories by Tolkien and he’s somewhere else altogether)–hence the reason my book will have a very large bibliography. Yeah, this is an in-depth book I’m writing. I’m a glutton for punishment.

So, that’s it for now; back to work. I have a bunch of elves stuck in Ossiriand for a moment waiting for a few baby elves to be old enough to continue the journey into the West (by “west” I mean some will get lazy somewhere around Beleriand and hang out in Doriath with King Thingol and his Queen Melian). Also, I’ve been advised to use my real name in order to get the accounts for this book and myself verified ✅. Thranduil has come a long, long way from where he started.–JMM (Jaynaé Marie Miller).

*The Lord of the Rings is actually not a trilogy. It was originally supposed to be six books–a hexalogy, so to speak. In fact, in the table of contents, you’ll notice that each of the “books” has “two books” within them.

Images: ©2013. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug. All Rights Reserved.

Newsfeed #95 January 31, 2018 (31 Narvinyë)

IT’S  “OFFICIAL”: TKWR TRILOGY is OFFICIAL–EVERYWHERE.

Thranduil has made it halfway to the mountain top–sort of. He’s brought his people out of the dark and now gets to be “official”. Chances are, I’ll have to do everything over again to get the blue check, but I’ll be working on that beginning tomorrow, February 1, 2018–while posting in Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen.

Look for “OFFICIAL” because that would be me. IF you see it and aren’t sure, just look for TOLKIEN Elvish–the only Elvish I know and use. Also look for really complex storylines that seem incredibly insane; that could be me and/or Tolkien because that is the one thing we have in common–a knack for creating so much stuff, appendices have to be used to follow it all. The most obvious thing to look for are CREDITS*⬇️: I’ll always give credit where its due.

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.

*If you edited anything without the permission of the original author, by law no one owns them but the original artist–I would know; I do have one of the best intellectual property lawyers in the country.‍⚖️

Newsfeed #91 November 13, 2017 (13 Hísimë)

The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy Could Be Lost: TBA.

http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/live-feed/official-lord-rings-tv-series-gets-multiple-season-commitment-at-amazon-1057486

I have spoken–I haven’t decided yet, but I have spoken.

Chapter I: Awakened (Pt. II)

“Above the coursing breeze blowing across the waters came the rising of voices. I noticed  Mîrwen had taken hold of my hand. It was the first time I had noticed how beautiful she was—the light of ten thousand stars shone in her eyes. I could not turn my gaze away—finding her beauty without equal among all others to me. She smiled at me.

“You are beautiful,” I said finally; my voice startling me when I first heard it. It was deep and resonating and I feared it wold frighten Mîrwen but she was not afraid.

“So are you,” she said softly—her voice to me was a melody I would forever be drawn.

We looked around as we stood among others as we—wandering in the paradise beneath the stars that cast their light as reflection and shadow upon the stillness of the lake by which we were born.

We were approached by one with long golden hair and grey eyes with a maiden at his side with dark golden hair longer still.

“I am Iarûr,” he said. “This is Nimríel.”

“There are many here before us,” I said. “Where do we settle?”

“Beyond here,” he began. “There lies a greater pace whispered among us yet none have dared wander.”

“There are many of us,” I said. They seem quite contented to remain here beside the waters.”

“Why not,” a voice asked. “I have found little reason to venture elsewhere. What do they call you? I am Êlengolas.”

“Iarûr,” he said to him.

“Where has Valdôr gone,” I asked.

“Not far,” he said. “His wonder has taken him among the hosts. There are many but by name we are not all the same.”

Nimríel seemed distant at those words and Mîrwen comforted her away from us as she instinctively knew something we did not.

“If there is a home beyond this place, let time tell us the way we should go,” I said. “For we were awakened her by the creator of the stars.”

We delighted in this and returned with our beloved wives to the shores where our kin had gathered. I lay beside Mîrwen gazing into starlight for a time without end. There was a peace I only knew that I would long for in the coming of days when the echoes of night would bring an evil that would extinguish the light of hope.”–TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by J.Marie Miller 6-23-2017

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 I: Awakened (Pt. I)

“It was when I learned to speak that I could tell the story of our kin. I had awakened as Orothôn beneath the stars on the shores of Lake Cuiviénen. I took as my wife Mîrwen, one of most beautiful of the eldalië. The night was our home and it was lit with unimaginable wonder that in time would show itself to be as evil as it was good as time began its journey with us.

It was Mîrwen that made known to me my face. I was tall and had long golden hair with grey eyes filled with specks of blue. It would not be known to men until the coming of day. My countenance would not shine until the first rising of the moon.

As we began to rise, I found Êlengolas—standing to my stature with hair as mine but whose eyes were as cold water—clear and endless. With him was his wife Valdúmîr. Unlike many others, her eyes had had a color I would one day know as the color of the sky during the day and long white hair.

None of us wanted to leave the place of our awakening but as we pre prepared to to go to what we knew was more glorious, I met Valdôr and Finëar. They were as me and Êlengolas in stature and appearance—long golden hair and eyes of grey. Valdôr had for a wife Lothluin whom appeared far different. She was indeed beautiful but her long hair was darker than a starless night; her grey eyes had flecks of gold. Finëar had taken for a wife Nenduriel. She well was not as the others. Her long hair was the color of the earth and her eyes were blue and green.

Together, walked closely together until we were stopped. I realized then there would come into this world may things that would change it forever.”–TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by J.Marie Miller 6-5-2017

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 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 IV: Darkness and Light (Pt. IV)

It did not take long for the whole of Menegroth to learn of the news. Êlengolas gave his blessing before Oropher could finish his proposal. As with all princes of the realm, the only approval that mattered was that of King Thingol. Remembering the time I was brought before him was still fresh in my mind; the anxiety lost to the joy of being with my beloved.

Before the moment could arrive, the realities of the world beyond our walls of stone had started to threaten more than our happiness. The presence of the naugrim began to become commonplace. Though the ladies of the court shown displeasure with them, they said very little except in whispers.

King Thingol had ordered guards to protect us; no corner inside or out went empty.  The last I would ever see Denethor was as he was leaving for Ossiriand for the last time. As he was walking away, he looked behind and waved at me with a quiet smile across his face.

As I was to take my leave, Elmo approached me.

Orothôn,” he began. “I wished to inquire about Oropher.”

“He is well,” I answered. “He is eager to marry Nimeithel.“

“So he is,” Elmo said. “We should all share in his optimism.”

“I do not understand,” I said.

“These are perilous times,” he said. “I wish my grandsons did not have to see such times. Neither should their children. I blame myself.”

“Whatever evil lies in this world is not your doing.”

“No, but had I continued on the path, we would not be here.”

“We will face this evil and defeat it,” I said. “It is fate that put us here in this place; in this hour.”

Elmo nodded and walked away—his head lowered. I worried for him. I went to find Mîrwen. As I passed Oropher’s room, I noticed Eldôr leaving.

“I heard you asked for Valdúril’s hand,” I said to him. “Congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you,” he said smiling. “I wished the same to Oropher. He has little to worry about as always.”

He waved at Oropher and went on his way.

Oropher was putting on a crisp white shirt sewn with silver thread.

“Hello, Ada,” he said. “Are you looking for Nana? She is attending to Queen Melian.”

“I know,” I said. “It was you I wanted to see.”

“Is something the matter,” he asked.

“No.”

“What is it, then?”

I sat on his bed thinking about Elmo’s words.

“You will go before King Thingol for  his blessing.”

“I know,” he said, leaning against the post of his bed. “Eäros told me how it was for him. I am not afraid but I cannot speak for Eldôr.”

“I remember going before him,” I said without thinking. “For you, it will be different.”

“How different,” he asked curiously. “I am intrigued. Should I worry for Nimeithel?”

“No,” I answered. “But you are the son of the daughter of the King’s brother.”

“That means nothing to me,” he said softly. “I am nothing more than your son. It is all I know how to be.”

“That may be,” I began. “But that does not change what you are.”

“I am a subject of this realm,” he said. “I will inherit nothing nor do  I wish to. I desire nothing more than what I have.”

I knew my son did not care to hear any more. I remembered the words of Orowen before we came into Doriath and ones spoken before. I stood up and looked at my son.

“Your humility is your crown,” I said. “Your courage is your mantle. They will serve you far greater than any title.”

I embraced him tightly. I wondered how I had raised a son such as this.

I let him go.

“I will be waiting for you in the Great Hall with your mother. Do not be late.”

“I will not,” he said. “You have my word.”

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

The Great hall was filled with elves. All around it was decorated with reminders of nature. The colors once lit by the stars were vivid and bright. The faces I traveled beside were more alive than I remembered. Mîrwen approached me; she was more beautiful than ever.

"How is our son,” she asked, a broad smile crossing her face. “Is he as handsome as his father?”

“Far more,” I declared. “But your flattery will not go unrewarded.”

I gently kissed her as the ceremony began. King Thingol and Queen Melian entered with Elmo and Orowen close behind. Once they took their places, Oropher, Amdir, and Eldôr escorted Nimeithel, Anadriel, and Valdúril down the aisle to stand before the king.

“Amdir, son of Galathil,” Thingol began. “You have chosen Anadriel?”

“I have,” he said.

“And Anadriel, you have chosen Amdir?”

“I have,” she said.

“Oropher, son of Orothôn,” Thingol continued. “You have chosen Nimeithel?”

“I have,” my son said.

“And Nimeithel, you have chosen Oropher?”

“I have,” she said.

“Eldôr, son of Valdôr,” Thingol said once more. “You have chosen Valdúril?”

“I have,” he said.

“And Valdúril, you have chosen Eldôr?”

“I have,” she said.

“Well,” Thingol said. “I say to you all, you have my blessing.”

No sooner had he said those words when an elf burst into the hall. He was disheveled and weary. Anadriel recognized him instantly.

“Eäros,” she cried.

Níndi ran to her husband as the room filled with gasps.

“What is this,” Thingol asked the breathless elf on the floor.

“I come from the Falas,” Eäros said. “I bring word from Círdan. It has been attacked.”

Queen Melian stood up slowly.

“It has begun,” she said.

“Beleg! Mablung,” Thingol called to two elves nearby. “Call to arms!”

They nodded quickly and left. I turned to Mîrwen—her eyes already filled with tears. I kissed her quickly and went with the rest of the elven men from court to take my place in battle.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 3-23-2019

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 IV: Darkness and Light (Pt. III)

I walked into my chambers to find Mîrwen with Valdúmîr and Lothluin chatting among themselves on the stone-carved benches.

“Orothôn,” Mîrwen said excitedly. “Have you heard? Eldôr has asked Valdúril for her hand.”

“That is wonderful news,” I said. “And Êlengolas has given his blessing?”

“You know Êlengolas,” Valdúmîr began. “He cannot help himself. He frightened the poor lad nearly to death.”

“My son wondered if he was worthy of his daughter,” Lothluin said.

“Well, then,” I started. “I know what to expect.”

“What are you saying,” Mîrwen asked, her eyes growing larger in anticipation.

“Your son wishes to marry Nimeithel.”

They stared at me—their mouths agape, frozen in the moment as figures of stone.

“I thought you would be delighted, Mîrwen,” I said, perplexed.

“I am,” she said glancing at Valdúmîr. “We are.”

“Êlengolas is quite fond of Oropher,” Lothluin said smiling. “He speaks highly of him in court quite often.”

“He does,” I asked curiously.

“Valdôr says as much to me,” she said.

“Will you give your blessing, Mîrwen,” I asked.

“You know I will.”

“Whatof you, Valdúmîr,” I asked.

She rose from her seat and stood before me.

“You will have our blessing,” she began reverently. “Mine and my husband’s.”

Without another word, she left our chambers in a graceful trance. I was bewildered by her actions. Quickly, Lothluin rose.

“I must attend to my duties,” she said. “I will see you again.”

Once she was gone, I looked at Mîrwen.

“Valdúmîr has always been fond of our son, Orothôn,” she said. “Nimeithel is a perfect match for Oropher. Mother has told me King Thingol and Queen Melian will give their blessing as well.”

I had almost forgotten my son was born a prince in the household of the King’s brother.

“Of course,” I said sitting beside Mîrwen. Of course Êlengolas and Valdúmîr will give their blessing. Their eldest daughter is in love with a prince.”

“You think so little of your friend to suggest his motives are not honorable?”

“No,” I began. It is not Êlengolas I question. It is you.”

“I beg your pardon,” Mîrwen yelled. “You question me?”

“Have you told Oropher what he is?”

“I am quite sure he knows.”

“Are you,” I asked.

She thought for a moment then nodded.

“He does not know, does he?”

She shook her head. I leaned back against the wall, the sound reverberated in my ears. I knew Oropher to be wise—perhaps he had discovered his position in the court. I decided to say nothing for the time being.

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

Not long thereafter, as I was preparing for battle alongside Élengolas and Valdôr, I made my thoughts known.

“I understand you have given your blessing to Eldôr to wed Valdúril.”

Valdôr stopped advancing, allowing his sparring opponent to fall. Êlengolas continued on.

“I have,” he said. “What of your son? He has yet to come to me.”

“You have not frightened him as you have Eldôr,” Valdôr asked.

“I am waiting for my chance,” Êlengolas answered as he put down his opponent. “Unless Oropher is afraid. It is understandable.”

“I hear you speak quite highly of him in court in my absence.”

“I do,” Êlengolas said coming over to us. “Why would I not? He is quite the warrior.”

“He is the grandson of the King’s brother,” I said.

He gave me a menacing look.

“So he is,” he said. “That is not the reason I speak highly of him, Orothôn. His skills for battle are formidable. As your friend, I would be greatly disappointed if you thought his rank was the reason I would give my blessing for my daughter to marry your son.”

I began to regret my words—I could see Valdôr with his head looking at the ground.

“Forgive me,” I said softly. “I would never accuse you of dishonor.”

“You want to know if Oropher knows he wishes to wed a commoner?”

“Êlengolas,” I began.

He started laughing—much to my surprise. Valdôr lifted his head; his face relieved.

“I would never say an unkind word about Nimeithel,” I said, feeling foolish. “There are not to be said.”

Êlengolas put his arm around my shoulder as he tried to contain his laughter.

“Êlengolas, you are horrible,” Valdôr said.

“I could not be so horrible,” he answered. “I am allowing your son to marry Valdúril. Orothôn, rank or no, it would be an honor and a privilege to have your son marry my daughter.”

“I feel the same about Nimeithel,” I agreed. “They are a wonderful match.”

“So I have heard for centuries,” he quipped. “But my daughter knows her heart and I know my daughter. You have raised a noble son that will and protect her. That is all that matters to me.”

I embraced my friend. I felt all fear and doubt leave my body. When I released Êlengolas, he was smiling.

“Both of my daughters are happy and I am happy for them.”

As we were preparing to return to the palace, there came a rumbling beneath the earth stronger and louder than it had ever been.

“The time for battle grows ever closer,” Valdôr said.

We continued on our way. I could not help but look around at all the elves following us into Menegroth. I was searching for Oropher. My heart lept with joy when I saw him standing at the gates. He waved at me. When I reached him, he embraced me.

“She said ‘yes’, Ada,” he whispered.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 3-9-2019

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 IV: Darkness and Light (Pt. II)

Later, while I was alone in my chambers working on my heirloom, Mîrwen entered with a smile on her face.

“You spoke to Oropher,” she said as she threw her arms around my shoulders.
“Yes,” I said. “This pleases you?”

“I think Nimeithel is a wonderful match for him. So does Valdúmîr.”  

“I do not think it is up to us,” I said. “The heart does what it will.”

“True,” she answered releasing me. “But it can use a little help now and then.”

“Whatever it is,” I began. “Do not tell me. I would rather leave some things to my imagination.”

“Very well,” Mîrwen answered. “But I had nothing to do with it.”

“I find that hard to believe, Mîrwen. The ladies of the court live for such intrigue.”

“We do not.”

I looked up from my work at my beloved. She had longed for this moment since Oropher could speak.

“He has yet to ask us for our blessing,” I added. “Try to contain your joy, if you will.”

“Do you know something,” she asked.

“No more than you.”

“You do know something,” she said sitting beside me. “What do you know, Orothôn?”

“I know he is waiting for the right moment. Let him come when it is time. He will do what is honorable.”

Mîrwen nodded.

“If I must,” she said softly. “He is a good son.”

“That he is,” I agreed. “I could not be more proud.”

“Shall we go to dinner,” she asked. “It is time.”

I put my work down and rose with her. We left our chambers and made our way to the great hall. When we arrived, we noticed more elves than usual. Across the room, I noticed Denethor with Arethuil. Beside them was a handsome young elf with a maiden of enchanting beauty. Denethor saw me and led the two elves toward me.

“Orothôn, these are my children. Gildúr and Annariel.”

They bowed to me.

“It is an honor to meet you,” I said.

“The honor is ours,” Gildúr said. “To meet the father of such a great warrior as Oropher is humbling.”

“I beg your pardon,” Mîrwen said.

“I have seen him myself,” Annariel whispered. “When I can, Your Highness. You must be proud.”

“I am,” Mîrwen said. I could hear the anger growing beneath royal protocol. “Quite proud.”

Before she could say another word, the call to dinner came. We all took our places—including Oropher beside his mother. We waited in uncomfortable silence until King Thingol and Queen Melian entered with their daughter Lúthien.
Once they were seated, everyone took their seats. I hoped for Mîrwen’s silence to continue through the end of our evening. Sitting across from us was Galathil and Celeborn—nearly himself unrecognizable as he was growing into manhood. Beside them sat their parents Galadhon and Celebriel. I could tell Galadhon has his eye on his sister.

“Mîrwen,” he whispered. “What bothers you?”

“Not a thing,” she whispered. “I am the proud mother of a great warrior.”

Oropher lowered his head. He looked at me and I shook my head. The silence between us continued until the end. When we rose, the silence was broken.

“If I may,” Oropher began. “I would like to call upon Nimeithel.”

As I nodded, Mîrwen spoke.

“You may not,” she answered.

“Mîrwen, let him go,” I said quietly. “You can speak with him upon his return.”

“I will speak with him now,” she said loudly.

The entire room fell silent. Elmo and Orowen looked toward us concerned.

“Mîrwen,” Galadhon whispered. “Not now I beg you.”

“If not now, when,” she asked. “When my son is a lifeless corpse on the field of battle?”

I wanted to hide. I could see Oropher was thinking the same.

“Mother,” he began. He was begging—something he had never done before. 

“Please do not do this.”

“Daughter,” Elmo began. “Is there something you wish to say?”

I could see his son Galathil take a deep breath as his son Amdir looked on.

“My son is a great warrior,” Mîrwen started. “So I have heard. Why have I learned of this now, Father?”

“Do not be angry with anyone but me, Mother,” Oropher said. “It was at my request.”

“You are a child,” Mîrwen said. “You have no power to request anything.”

“I am no longer a child,” he said sternly. “If I can love, then I can fight. It is my duty to defend this land as my father and grandfather. I do not need your blessing for that nor do I expect it. But as your son, I would do anything to keep your heart from breaking. That is why I dared not say a word.”

I heard the sound of sobbing—several maidens had begun to cry. I looked at Mîrwen; somehow my son had made quite the impression. I could feel the room return to a sense of calm.

“Your son has a way with words,” Galadhon said.

“Yes,” I answered. “I am grateful for it.”

“May I call upon Nimeithel,” Oropher asked once more.

Mîrwen and I nodded together. He kissed his mother’s cheek and left us quickly.

“He is a good son,” I said to her. “You have raised him well.”

“We have raised him well,” she said taking my hand.

I kissed her. I knew she had accepted things to come. We returned to our chambers with some peace of mind.

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

It began with the Marchwardens—King Thingol had ordered more to cover the borders of Doriath. Though things remained quiet, there was little doubt we were preparing for war.

In the days before the first battle, the naugrim were seen more often traveling the road between Nogrod and Doriath as well as within Menegroth. The cache of weapons seemed to swell over time.

There was never a time I was not on guard—every noise would turn my head as my heart would beat a little harder. Mîrwen tried her best to calm me but she was just as frightened.

Once I had finished my heirloom, I marveled at the thought of it being passed on generation to generation. I went to find Oropher. He was inside a keep looking over the land. 

“I knew I would find you here,” I said to him as I approached.

“I was thinking to myself,” he said. “How beautiful Doriath is. I wonder what will become of it?”

“It will stand for as long as it should,” I answered.

He looked at me and smiled.

“I suppose,” he said. “Why were you looking for me?”

“I wished to give you something,” I began. “Perhaps make up for lost time with my only child.”

He gave me a curious look.

“I have spent my entire life with you, Ada. Whatever time was lost in your absence was sacrosanct to the service of the King.”

“I wish it had never been,” I said. “You should have been raised in Eldamar—far from this land we live in.”

“I know no other place as home,” he said. “I was born here as many others. Eldamar to me is nothing more than lore.”

“It does exist,” I said, even though I doubted it myself now. “One day we will see it.”

Oropher nodded. I knew he was doing it for me to change the course of conversation.

“I wanted to give you this,” I said, showing him the medallion I had made. “I have been working on it since the very moment I learned of your conception.”

He took it from me and marveled at it for awhile. 

“Thank you, Ada,” he finally said. “I will cherish it always.”

He embraced me tightly. When he let go, I could see tears in his eyes.

“Why are you sad, Oropher,” I asked.

“Will I return from battle,” he asked.

“I have little doubt that you will return.”

“I have asked Nimeithel for her hand,” he said softly. “I do not want her to become a widow before she becomes a bride.”

I was as happy as I was breathless.

“Are you asking for my blessing?”

“I am,” he answered.

“You do realize your mother will be absolutely delighted.”

“I know,” he said, laughing. “Grandmother said as much. It would seem Mother has been planning for this day since I was born.”

“You are too generous,” I said. “She has been planning this much longer than that.”

We laughed together. I realized how long I had lived. My son had come of age and was about to start a household of his own.

“I suppose it will be up to me to speak with Êlengolas,” I began. “That is far easier than asking the King.”

Oropher nodded. We stood looking out at Doriath. It was a beautiful land. Its future perils were yet unknown to us as we enjoyed the moment together.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 2-23-2019

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 IV: Darkness and Light (Pt. I)

It was not long after that the world around us seemed to change. Though we remained under the protection of the Girdle of Melian, the sense of foreboding grew like thorns in our hearts and minds.

As I emerged from my chambers, I nearly ran into Êlengolas.

“Êlengolas,” I said. His face was stoic. “What brings you here?”

“You do not know,” he asked. “Surely you have some idea.”

“I am afraid I am quite unaware. Has battle come to us?”

Êlengolas smirked.

“You honestly have no idea,” he began. “Have you not noticed your son has started to come of age?”

“I have,” I answered, feeling at ease. “So has Eldôr as well as your daughters.”

Êlengolas smiled, then laughed.

“Yes, they have,” he said. “They are quite lovely. It would appear their loveliness has not gone unnoticed.”

“What are you saying,” I asked.

“I am saying that your son has taken a liking to my daughter, Nimeithel.”

I stared at him for a moment.

“I am afraid Oropher has not said a word to me or his mother.”

“And why would he,” Êlengolas said. “He has yet to make his intentions known. He is much like you, Orothôn. Thoughtful and profoundly naïve.”

“I beg your pardon,” I asked, growing angry.

“You, my friend, see only the flowers, never the thorns. Eternally optimistic.”

“You say that like it was a flaw.”

“It is, but one that is tolerable,” he answered smiling. “For now, I would have a word with Oropher. My Nimeithel speaks of nothing but him.”

Êlengolas began to walk away.

“Where are you off to,” I asked.

“Off to find Valdôr,” he answered. “The trouble with daughters is that others have sons.”

I smiled to myself. It was true—I had not spent as much time with my son as I should or would like. I walked to his door and knocked.

“Enter,” my son said.

I walked in—it was much like my chambers in detail. I saw Oropher swinging a sword.

“What is this,” I asked.

He stopped and looked at me. He was far more a man than the child I remembered. He was strong in stature—his golden hair falling over his shoulders like a waterfall.

“What are you doing,” I asked.

“I am practicing,” he said. “Nothing more.”

“You are not going to war,” I said angrily. “I will not allow it!”

“Ada,” he began.

“Your mother will not forgive me if I lost you.”

“Stop,” he said, his voice deeper than it once was. “There are not enough elves to defend this land.”

“How would you know,” I asked. “Who said this to you?”

“We are no longer children,” he said. “Hard as you try, you cannot keep us protected from what evil will come. We have been training for some time now.”

“Who is ‘we’,” I asked, my voice ringing in my own head as it echoed throughout the room.

“Me and Eldôr,” he said softly. “Some others as well. Upon my request.”

“I did not give you permission.”

“I know. You would never allow it. I asked grandfather to ask his brother, King Thingol, and he said yes.”

I stared at my son. He was unrecognizable.

“Please, do not be angry with me, Ada. I did it for you.”

“For me,” I asked—my eyes filling with tears.

“I want to be there to protect you,” he said. “I know Nana would die without you. I could not forgive myself if I did nothing to save you and her.”

I walked over to him and embraced him. I never loved Oropher more if that were possible.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I know,” he answered. “I love you, too.”

When I let him go, I thought of Mîrwen.

“Do not tell your mother,” I said. “Now is not the time.”

“No,” he agreed. “Not now. She has her mind on other things.”

“What things?”

“She has her mind on Nimeithel. I am quite sure.”

My mind returned to my meeting with Êlengolas.

“I just met Nimeithel’s father in the hall. He says she speaks of nothing but you.”

Oropher smiled, his face flushed.

“She does,” he asked.

“How do you feel about her, Oropher?”

He sat down on his bed.

“I am quite fond of Nimeithel.”

“I have known that for some time,” I said sitting beside him. “Since you were very young.”

“What should I do,” he asked. He was my son again.

“What does your heart tell you?”

“My heart wants to marry her but I know I must wait. Eldôr is in love with her sister Valdúril. I cannot imagine what their father must think of this.”

I laughed.

“I do not think you have anything to worry about.”

“So you will give your blessing,” he asked eagerly.

“Are you asking for my blessing?”

“I do not know,” he said.

When you know, then your mother and I will give you our blessing.”

“Thank you, father,” he said.

He lept from the bed and ran out of the room. I looked around. My world was changing—for the better and the worst.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 2-16-2019

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. V)

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.

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. 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.

Chapter II: A Son is Born (Part V)

As we lay in each other’s arms, I could not help but feel something stood watch over us. I slowly turned my head. 

“Ada,” Oropher said loudly enough to startle me.

“Whisper, Oropher,” I said.

“Ada,” he repeated softly.

“Yes,” I asked.

“What are you and Nana doing?”

“Resting,” I answered. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to stop resting,” he said smiling.

“Oropher, how long have you been waiting for me and Nana to stop resting?”

He paused to think as I began to worry.

“Not long,” he said. “Just now.”

I sighed deeply and reached for my robe nearby. As I rose from bed, I quickly replaced the linens with the robe. I looked to see Mîrwen quietly resting motionless. I picked up Oropher.

“What are we to do,” I asked him.

“I am hungry,” he said.

“So am I,” I answered placing him on a table as I reached for my clothes. Once I was dressed, I noticed my son was still in his nightclothes I looked around when Mîrween appeared holding a neatly folded shirt and trousers.

“Looking for these,” she asked. 

I said nothing as she began to dress Oropher. Not long, Amareth entered and bowed.

“Go with Amareth,” she instructed Oropher.

Obediently, he jumped down from his perch and left with our lady.

“Mother said I required ladies to attend to our household,” she began as she embraced me. “Amareth was appointed to the task of caring for Oropher.”

“All well and good,” I began. “Why would you require ladies?”

Mîrwen’s cheery expression melted away as her gaze fell to the ground.

“What are you keeping from me,” I demanded.

“We are expected to dine with Father and Mother,” she said.

She looked toward the door. “Enter.”

Four elves entered—two maids and two men. In a whirlwind they separated us and went to work dressing us. When they were finished, they bowed and left swiftly. Without noticing what I was wearing, I became spellbound by Mîrwen’s beauty. She wore a long white dress with silver detail that seemed liked the start above us. Upon her head was a circlet of silver. It wast then I realized my attire resembled hers and I, too, wore a circlet.

“Shall we leave,” I asked.

She nodded and we walked into our world. No sooner had we left our doorframe did elves appear on either side of us begin bowing. They had created a long path by which to follow. As we came closer to its end, I noticed Elmo and Orowen overlooking their court. Beside them stood Galadhon and Galathil with their spouses. Dressed in white and adorned with silver, they proudly awaited us to arrive. At the very end stood Iarûr, Valdôr, Êlengolas and Finëar and their spouses. We stopped before Elmo and Orowen and we bowed reverently.

“Come, let us dine,” Elmo said smiling.

We followed them to an elaborate dining hall within an enormous thicket. Lanterns from branches shone as stars come to earth. Once seated, elves brought to us fantastic dishes I had never tasted until that moment. There was much merriment for a time when the atmosphere was interrupted by a single voice.

“Where is Elwë?”

It was Mîrwen. All fell silent.

“Pardon,” Elmo asked.

“Where is your brother, my uncle? I know he remains in this world.”

Orowen looked at Elmo—her stare felt around the table.

“It is true, Mîrwen,” Elmo began. “He remains here but for good reason.”

“What good reason could there be,” Orowen asked angrily.

“Father, “ Galadhon said. “We are not to leave this world?”

Elmo stood up and looked around at us. I saw sadness in his eyes.

“He is my brother,” he said softly. With those words, he left us. Orowen quickly went after him as Galadhon whispered to me from across the table.

“Celebriel is with child again. I had hoped one of my children would come int the other world, but now it is not to be.”

Celebriel took his hand. I rose from the table and made my way into the eternal twilight I had awakened. It was still—no breeze blew. I heard voices near the home of Elmo and Orowen. When I saw them, I hid behind a tree.

“You could not tell your wife of your plans,” Orowen asked.

“I had to know the truth,” he said, his voice distraught. “I needed to know where he was so that I might convince him to leave with us.”

“He will not leave this world, Elmo,” she said. “This you know too well.”

“How would I know,” he asked “I do not have your gift of foresight, Orowen.”

“Nor do you have the gift of hindsight! You will condemn generations of the Eldalië over one lost soul that you know will never join the other that he has forsaken.”

“How would you know what is in his heart,” Elmo growled.

“What is in his heart is not you or Olwë,” she answered. “We both know he remains for love but glory as well. That will bring a darkness that will plague this world. If you wish to brave such folly, you will do it alone!”

“Please, Orowen,” he begged. “I cannot bear the thought of eternity without you.”

She paused a moment—she sensed my presence but said nothing of it.

“I will remain as long as you wish,” she said. “For as long as it takes to convince Elwë to leave this world.”

“Should I fail,” Elmo began. “Then I will leave this place with you and our family. You have my word.”

Orowen nodded as Elmo kissed her hand and made his way toward the banquet.

“Come to me, Orothôn,” she said.

I slowly came from behind the tree and approached her.

“Forgive me,” I whispered.

“What have you done to ask for forgiveness?”

“I do not know,” I said meekly. 

“You are the bearer of kings, Orothôn,” she said to me. “Perhaps there is hope for this world even as I shall not see it. For this, I am glad.”

She kissed my cheek and smiled. I bowed to her and she turned from me and entered her home. I felt light-headed and heavy-hearted. What I had heard left me with dreams I could not find hope to have.

I made my way toward home alone—the path I once took was empty and dark save dim lanterns from elven homes. I stopped when I noticed Oropher at play with two little elven boys. Eldôr I recognized but the other was new to me.
They seem mesmerized with the nature of darkness and its wonders that years had taken for granted. I stood watching them for awhile—their innocence replacing my fears.

“Thinking,” a voice said to me. It was Galathil. “Mîrwen said I would find you wandering in thought.”

“I have found myself doing that more than usual.”

“So have I,” he answered. “Often after my son had found his sleep and all is quiet. That is him with Oropher and Eldôr.”

“What is his name,” I asked.

“Amdir,” he said proudly. “I am afraid he is rather quiet for his youth and his manor far older. Nothing like me or my brother.”

“He seems to be doing quite well with Oropher.”

We watched as they laughed and romped as if in another world all their own. I wondered what their lives would be growing up in this world with lore of another told to them as myth. I found a peace in the darkness for a moment. It was safe for now.–TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller 7-14-2018

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 II: A Son is Born (Part IV)

“It was not until later I would have a moment to speak with Mîrwen. My mind lingered on what Valdôr and Êlengolas had said and I had questions she could answer. As I entered our home, Mîrwen and another elleth were trying to dry Oropher after his bath. When he saw me, their task proved futile.

“Ada,” he said running to me. “We saw a wilwarin!”

“You did,” I asked as he leapt into my arms.

“Yes, and it went up,” he said pointing upward barely missing my nose.

“Amareth,” Mîrwen sighed. “Please.”

The golden-haired maiden rose up and came to retrieve my wet son from my arms. I sat in the corner watching them prepare Oropher for the night—with great trouble. I tried to keep my amusement to myself but was given a sharp glare from Mîrwen.  When Oropher was in his nightclothes, Mîrwen stood up and motioned for me to follow her outside as Amareth put our son down.

“I see my struggles amuse you, Orothôn,” she said beneath her breath.

“On the contrary,” I said trying not to laugh. “I found our son’s exuberance entertaining.”

Mîrwen gave me such a look, I could feel the point of a blade run through me.

“What have you done save wonder about with Valdôr and Êlengolas.”

My mood began to turn as dark as hers.

“What I did was learn what you failed to tell me, Mîrwen.”

“What have I failed to to tell you,” she asked. “You are my husband. I tell you everything.”

“Except that we are not leaving this world.”

She looked puzzled as she sat down on a seat I made for us.

“ I do not understand.”

“You did not know Círdan had left seeking Elwë?”

“No,” she said. I could tell she was telling the truth—she looked worried.

“Valdôr told me that Elwë lingers in this world and your father knows where he resides.”

He has said nothing to me nor a word to Mother.”

“Nothing to Galadhon or Galathil,” I asked as I sat down beside her.

“I would not know, but they do not seem to know any more than I do.”

“Forgive me,” I whispered. “I am sorry I doubted you.”

She smiled.

“You are not sorry about my trouble with our son.”

“How could you think I would find that amusing?”

“Orothôn.”

“Perhaps a little,” I said. I kissed her. “Very little.”

Just then, Amareth emerged from our home.

“Oropher is sleeping, My Lady,” she said.

“You are dismissed for now,” Mîrwen said. I will call upon you at his rising.”

She bowed to us and left swiftly.

“Might I inquire about his maiden?”

“You might,” Mîrwen began as she rose and took my hand. “For now, I wish to spend some time with my husband.”

I followed her inside. Behind a divider, she paused to kiss Oropher’s forehead as I prepared for bed. Shortly, she appeared on the opposite side of the divider and joined me. I took her in my arms.

“I am afraid, Orothôn,” she whispered.

“What frightens you?”

“I fear what comes,” she answered. “What will become of us should we linger in this world?”

“Tell me what you see,” I said . Her eyes were filling with tears and her lips quivered.

“Darkness and death,” she said crying softly. “I do not want to live in this world without you.”

“I would never leave you and Oropher,” I said wiping her tears away. “I could never leave you, Mîrwen.”

“Not on your own,” she sobbed. “Someone will take you from me.”

I held her closer—desperately trying to console her.

“Mîrwen,” I whispered. “Please.”

She looked into my eyes as she tried to smile for me. Our lips met between wisps of anticipation.

“Orothôn, take these thoughts from me.”–TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller 7-12-2018

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.