#the official tkwr trilogy

tkwrtnewsfeed:

Newsfeed #124 December 26, 2020 (26 Ringarë)

After such a tumultuous year, I am hoping to go into 2021 with cautious optimism. Yet, even as I continue working on this series, I will admit I spent a lot of time afraid to work in anticipation of another tragic event that would keep me from doing what I love. However, readers and fans have given me more courage to go on–especially in anticipation of this release–possibly due to the “bonus” material.

In this download of the Original Version of The Saga of Thranduil, there an exclusive look-see into The Epic of Eryn Galen (the prequel, if you will). The first two chapters begin a journey for the Elves that (for some) will last until the end of the War of the Ring (in The Lord of the Rings). Under starlight, the elves awaken on the shores of Lake Cuiviénen. With a stop in a place that would one day become known to the world as Mirkwood, the saga of Elves of the Woodland Realm begins. Book I is their origin story; their legacy.

To end 2020 with something such as this reminds me of how my own journey to this work began–with uncertainty in adversity; wandering in darkness until the first light of the Day Star finally revealed the world to me. Not unlike the characters, I must find the strength to carry on knowing that every night has a day. Hope is often born in times when it seems lost.

You can get the book here: Google DriveorWordPress.

The Return of the Elvenking—with a bonus.

tkwrtnewsfeed:

Newsfeed #122 December 5, 2020 (5 Ringarë)

I Am Back: I do not need to tell you about 2020()

For me, it all began when Northern Italy went into Quarantine in February/March. My best friend @fortunatelyclevercandy (writer of @thehouseofdurin) lives there and I decided to go into quarantine with her in solidarity. Everything was fine until COVID-19 came to my country. I was living in relative safety when:

1. My Car Died–I walk everywhere now
   
2. Stores Closed–I get nearly everything delivered
   
3. My Heating and cooling system fell apart–now I require fans and space heaters in every room
   
4. I got sick (twice–not with COVID)
   
5. My stepmother died suddenly (no one in the family expected it to happen–it has been two years since my father died)
   

So, finally, after making some adjustments (while also starting another book project @thesecretofthehouseofbourbonbook) to what has got to be the YEAR from HELL (and in my country aka the USA, 14.4 million COVID cases and counting, I spend my time being extra cautious as I am High Risk COVID due to a very rare immunodeficiency disorder and was already masked up for the worst allergy season in 10 years). The only good thing I can say, I was right in the middle of writing when all items 4 and 5 happened back-to-back so I am not behind anything. I am, however, slightly perturbed that so much got in the way of doing my favorite thing–writing.

Now, I know I could not be expected to work after the sudden death of my last parent in this world (and I tried repeatedly only to find myself becoming emotional because like the spread of COVID, her death was also avoidable–even at her advanced age). She may have been my stepmother and we may have been estranged but I had known her all my life and she was part of our family long before she married my father. I was practically raised with her own children who became my step siblings. My natural instinct was to mourn then to react in anger over the situation. Luckily, I’m still in Quarantine–since March–so I only vented in the privacy of my own home (and couple times only to which my BFF and co-author of “The Secret of the House of Bourbon” scolded me and reminded me to behave–I was still on a bet to see if I could control my temper and outbursts for a year.

By the way, I was able to control my temper and outbursts for a year and counting. Congratulations to me. (On the downside, adding King Louis XIV to my list of Kings to be has made me into a rather combustible personality and even more of a little spitfire–approach with caution). 

But it that time of the year once again–and so far, I’ve managed to make it here in one piece through hell and high water and tragedy. I’m eager to continue with work and put 2020 far far far far behind me. That can’t happen soon enough in my opinion. I look to Monday to make my announcement of what is up and coming. I will be spending 22 days making up for lost time across many social media platforms that are eagerly awaiting all that is coming at the end of this year and into the next. Sorry for the inconvenience.–Jaynaé Marie Miller, author of TKWRT.

Image: ©2002. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. All Rights Reserved.

Don’t ask. It has been one hell of a year.

tkwrtrilogy3:

Chapter IX: The Reckoning (Pt. II)

As it was told to me sometime later: the whole of Doriath stood still that day. No wind blew through the trees and nary a forest creature could be seen. Time seemed to stop within our borders. Even within the halls of Menegroth there was an unsettled anticipation. Silence filled every chamber and the only sound heard was our footsteps—like heartbeats they filled our ears with anxious desire for a return to normalcy. This day would never be forgotten in the annals of time. Yet in the moment, one could forget there was ever a time such as this to remember.

It was the day Lady Lúthien and her Beren would return to Menegroth. Even as the day began as always, an uneasy excitement whispered through its hallowed halls.

I was called upon by Elmo and Orowen to receive the returning couple with the rest of the family. I had met the request with some doubt—for I feared it was all in vain. Nonetheless, I acquiesced for the sake of Mîrwen.

At sunrise on that day, I rose to find Mîrwen standing across our chamber draped in her robe and staring upward.

“Mîrwen,” I began. “Is something the matter?”

“Would you think ill of me if I were to say I wished this day had never come,” she asked softly.

“You know I could never think ill of you,” I said as I got up and walked over to her. “May I asked why you fell this way?”

She turned toward me; her eyes felt like daggers through my heart.

“I know of your visions, Orothôn,” she said. “I know you have seen was is to come and it will be this day that casts its long shadow upon this world.”

“What are you saying,” I asked.

“You know well what I am saying,” she snapped.

“If I did, my love, I would know how to answer.”

“Why did you say nothing to me of what you have seen,” she demanded.

“I did not wish to upset you,” I said. “It would appear I had just cause.”

“I am not amused, Orothôn,” she said.

“Nor am I, Mîrwen. What has brought you to this, dare I ask?”

“I know far more than you think,” she said.

“Well, that would not surprise me as you spend your days with the ladies of the court,” I answered. “I can only begin to imagine what you talk about when your husbands are not around.”

“We do not discuss Súlwë,” she said. 

Words escaped me.

“Where did you hear that name,” I asked.

“It does not matter from where I heard it,” she answered as her voice seemed darker. “What matters is he knows the reason why this day has come. Your visions are what lies in the future this day foreshadows.”

“Mîrwen, please,” I said softly. “No more.”

“For now,” she whispered as we heard a knock at the door. “Enter.”

Servants entered the room to dress us for the day.

“I will tell you as much as I can,” I whispered.

“No, Orothôn. You will tell me all that you know.”

She smiled and motioned to her dressers and disappeared behind her screen.

I made my way to my attendants and we were dressed in silence. When we were ready, Mîrwen and I entered the hall where we met Oropher and Nimeithel.

“Ada,” he said. “You clean up nicely. How long has it been since we have had the occasion to be so formal?”

“It has been too long,” I answered.

We began making our way to the main vestibule. I put aside the events of the morning the closer to the throne we came. Not since we first entered into Menegroth had it looked so festive. I allowed myself a moment of much needed peace.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 09-22-2020

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.

Where have I been? Getting ready for this. The return of Lúthien and Beren.

tkwrtrilogy3:

Chapter IX: The Reckoning (Pt. IV)

I was not in my chambers long before Mîrwen entered. She had a look of dread upon her face. I knew better than to inquire. She had spent much of her time with the Queen this day. With the departure of Thingol, I knew too well the fear in Melian’s heart. What she said to the court with her eyes, she spoke to her most trusted ladies.

“What is on your mind, Orothôn,” she asked as she walked by without a glance. “I could hear your thoughts in the hall.”

“I have nothing on my mind other than my concern for you.”

“As you well should,” she said. “But I would worry more for the fate of the Eldalië.”

“Why is that,” I began. “Do not speak to me in riddles, Mîrwen. Between you and Galadriel, on can hardly dismiss the look of puzzlement upon my face.”

“There is talk of war,” she said angrily. “Or do menfolk not speak of it anymore?”

“We speak of it,” I answered. “But why would ladies concern themselves with war?”

“We are far from immune by the affects of war,” she said. “We are wives and mothers of warriors.”

“Yes, you are,” I said. “And as such, it would be helpful if you would tell your warrior husband what you are trying to say.”

“Mother wishes to sail west.”

I looked at Mîrwen. From her expression, I could tell she knew I was stunned.

“What are you saying, Mîrwen?”

“Dark times are coming to us,” she began. “There will be death among us. Mother wishes for us to go where we should have gone a long time ago.”

I did not know what to say. Before I could think of something, there came a knock at the door.

“Enter,” I said without a backwards glance.

“Ada,” I heard Oropher say. I turned to see my son standing beside Amdir. 

“Yes, Oropher,” I asked.

“You are wanted,” he said. “By Elmo.”

I nodded.

“See to your mother,” I whispered.

“Yes, Ada,” he answered.

“Elmo is with Iarûr in the library,” Amdir added.

I nodded, and made my way down the hall. As I turned down the corridor leading to the library, I met Êlengolas and Finëar.

“Have you two been summoned,” I asked.

“If by summoned you mean intentionally eavesdropping, then yes,” Êlengolas said with a smile. Finëar sighed in annoyance.

“Yes, he was called upon,” he said. “Êlengolas is one of our best warriors, if not our most trying. Angband rumbles again for that creature brought with it more than eyes.”

As we entered the library, several elves busied themselves with putting scrolls into trunks. Iarûr and Elmo stood in the farthest corner speaking quietly as Súlwë sat nearby. When they saw us approaching, we were greeted warmly.

“Orothôn,” Iarûr said. “Good of you to come.”

“I was told Elmo wished to see me,” I answered.

“Yes,” Elmo said. “Have you spoken to Mîrwen?”

“I have only briefly.”

“So, she has told you of Orowen’s desire to sail west.”

“Yes,” I answered. “I am afraid I do not understand.”

“I believe you do, Orothôn,” Elmo said. “It was you, after all, that heard my promise to my wife many years ago on our way to Doriath.”

Everything became clear to me in that moment. My mind returned to the forest beneath the stars.

“You have called me here to tell me we are to leave Doriath?”

“No,” he said softly. “Not just yet, but it is on the minds of many.”

“I find it difficult to fathom King Thingol leaving this world,” I said. “And if my memory serves, you said you would leave if you failed to convince your brother.”

“You memory serves you well,” he answered.

“The King will not leave Doriath,” Êlengolas said. “So long as his daughter remains, he is tethered forever to this land.”

“His daughter has given her love to a mortal,” Finëar added. “Now Elven blood will one day flow together with Atani for many generations.”

“Yes,” Elmo said softly. “I made a promise to my beloved, but I owe my allegiance to my brother.”

“So you wish to stay,” I asked.

“No,” Elmo answered. “I want to leave with my family before more Elven blood is shed.”

“Well, do it quickly,” Iarûr said. “That time will be upon us soon. More than elven blood will flow through this land.”

“Are you planning to leave as well,” I asked Iarûr.

“No,” he said. “I must stay. My fate is tied to another. But I will make my way home when it is is my time to do so.”

“When are you leaving, Elmo,” I asked.

“As soon as my brother returns, I shall tell him my plans so that I may prepare for our journey. You will be coming with us, yes?”

I did not answer. I had not given it much thought. Even after facing the evil of Morgoth, I had come to call Doriath my home.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 12-11-2021

Yep, we’re back. In this episode, there is talk of elves sailing West as their world grows darker. While Thingol and Beren go after the wolf Carcharoth, there is chatter of what may be coming.

Newsfeed #127 June 13, 2021 (13 Nárië)

I have NO issues in any representation of the works of J.R.R. Tolkien. I do not care if it is animated, live action, literary or spray painted on the side of a building. Expression is the highest form of flattery.

What I have a problem with is a representation that does not lead back to Tolkien. I purposely created “The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy” and its subsequent standalone books for the sole purpose to lead back to Tolkien’s original works. When someone says to me, “reading your story has made me want to read (or reread Tolkien),” my mission has been fulfilled.

I do not do what I do for money. I do not do it for notoriety which I have gained worldwide. I do it because of the love of reading and out of respect for my literary hero J.R.R. Tolkien. In the early days, when people confused my story with Tolkien, that upset me greatly. First of all, I do not think I sound like Tolkien as my story is told in the first person. Granted, I studied his language patterns and felt the need to take out anything “modern” in order to ensure my stories maintained a certain believability.

I have created characters when necessary but never once have I ever taken the works of Tolkien out of context. I “write around” the original material. I work with the original material. I am always referring back to the material to make sure I am capturing the essence of Middle-Earth as Tolkien created it. I made that promise to my father and Tolkien the very second I decided to write my story. I took the path less traveled at a time when Middle-Earth fan fictions on Tumblr were often filled with vulgarity and graphic sex.

I was on the last rung on a ladder of stories when I began “The Saga of Thranduil”. At any time, I could have turned the tide for more attention, but I refused. I could not bring myself to lessen the work of the man inspired me to write fantasy when I was a child. I knew anything less than my best would have disappointed my dying father. I continued on the path I chose.

When teachers started telling me they liked TKWRT and asked if they could read it to their students during a unit on Tolkien, I was shocked. When soldiers deployed in war zones asked for a copy of TKWRT, I was humbled. When high school students wrote me during Winter Recess about wanting to read TKWRT because they could not get to a library, I realized I had done something wonderful. When other published writers asked if my work was a continuation of Tolkien, I finally allowed myself to accept the reason so many people told me they had written to the Tolkien Estate asking about a “lost” book about Thranduil.

I know what I have done and will continue to do. I do not have any issues with how Tolkien is represented. I know how I represent Tolkien. He is never far from my mind whenever I write sentence. In fact, I am always surrounded by his books when I am working. I am telling histories through the eyes of his characters in his world. I make sure he is always front and center in that moment. From the naming of characters (often mentioned but never named) to new place names, I never am looking to the outside. My guide is Tolkien. Until the very last word, he will be the inspiration. He has to be, otherwise I am disrespecting his legacy, genius and his work. This entire series is dedicated to J.R.R. Tolkien. I would not wish to give him anything he would not be proud to read himself.–Jaynaé Marie Miller, from Excerpts, A Memoir.

Article on WordPress.

Newsfeed #124 December 26, 2020 (26 Ringarë)

After such a tumultuous year, I am hoping to go into 2021 with cautious optimism. Yet, even as I continue working on this series, I will admit I spent a lot of time afraid to work in anticipation of another tragic event that would keep me from doing what I love. However, readers and fans have given me more courage to go on–especially in anticipation of this release–possibly due to the “bonus” material.

In this download of the Original Version of The Saga of Thranduil, there an exclusive look-see into The Epic of Eryn Galen (the prequel, if you will). The first two chapters begin a journey for the Elves that (for some) will last until the end of the War of the Ring (in The Lord of the Rings). Under starlight, the elves awaken on the shores of Lake Cuiviénen. With a stop in a place that would one day become known to the world as Mirkwood, the saga of Elves of the Woodland Realm begins. Book I is their origin story; their legacy.

To end 2020 with something such as this reminds me of how my own journey to this work began–with uncertainty in adversity; wandering in darkness until the first light of the Day Star finally revealed the world to me. Not unlike the characters, I must find the strength to carry on knowing that every night has a day. Hope is often born in times when it seems lost.

You can get the book here: Google Drive orWordPress.

Newsfeed #119 December 26, 2019 (26 Ringarë)

THE SAGA OF THRANDUIL–EXTENDED VERSION

First of all, there are a few things about this 3rd Draft of the Extended Version. It is not complete (as it should have been). Why? Because this October, my old laptop died and though it did retrieve nearly all my work, it lost all my notes on The Extended Version. Note to you (and self): Apple Stickies don’t retrieve anything if you lose something. Use Post-It by 3M if you have a tablet (and I’m doing that now). This means you may actually get another lookatThe Extended Version and this is not the last time you get to read it with the additions.

Secondly, when you get to the Appendix, you’ll probably see the additions that got lost while my old laptop died during the Catalina Software Download (and the laptop wasn’t that old, I might add)–there are “new people” not in the story (yet). You can either ignore them or start rumors of their origins (though some are self-explanatory). Some characters will be in Book III: The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen (and that extended version) and/or in Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen (currently on-going).

There is a scene that was about to be put into this book (while I was promoting The House of Durin) that is on Instagram right now about Thranduil dealing with his future “son-in-law” (future husband of his daughter Isílriel). It is located  to the right of a bright photo titled “End of Summer: LAIRË METTA”. I hope to post the scene the event takes place eventually (along with others) either there or in the complete version at a later date TBA.

Also, I just learned today, my new Spell-Check hasn’t learned Elvish. Though, Erestor is blessedly not Crestor, some things in Elvish might look weird (and my laptop froze while I was working and I freaked out because I didn’t want the trauma of losing anything again), some things are still a weird mix of Apple’s inability to recognize another language (oh, Black Speech they know–makes you wonder), Sindarin and Quenya. That’ll be fixed in post.

Please Enjoy this version of the book () knowing eventually there will be way more than 567 pages (including the Appendix) and way more adventures (most being told again in the extended version of The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen).–Jaynaé Marie Miller, author. 

Available Here: https://drive.google.com/open?id=13z0iO0Y-qHUs8yZWIrVJZy_jtGzx–hk

or, if you like: https://tkwrtrilogy.wordpress.com/2019/12/26/the-saga-of-thranduil-the-extended-version-is-here/

Newsfeed #118 December 25, 2019 (25 Ringarë)

MERRY CHRISTMAS: ENJOY THE DAY! DECEMBER 26 IS 23 HOURSAWAY.

It is that time of the year–to celebrate the holidays. Go ahead. I’ll wait until December 26 when the Extended Version will be available for download. Watch this space–carefully. There will be a lot of information forthcoming. (Go watch LOTR in honor of December 25, 3019 T.A.)

Meanwhile, you can always catch up with the Original Version here or on WordPress. Until then, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good-night.

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 #104 August 19, 2018 (19 Úrimë)

WORDPRESS DEBUT WAS A SUCCESS:

One of those days I wish I drank…I’ll drink some V-8. Anyway, I had estimated 20 views (and I kept Khalessi from burning down Laketown) but I got well over 100. I think this is my early birthday present. It has to be: I share my birthday with Beyoncé and so I’m quite sure I’ll be ignored the whole day as always.

Evenbefore my father’s Alzheimer’s he would come to my house and say, “Did you know it was Beyoncé’s birthday?” And I would say, “Yes, Dad. It’s mine, too.” And he’d say, “Really?”

Anyway, it was a good day. Off to the next adventure: Chicago (maybe) to meet my alter ego (Lee Pace). I’m still nursing a bruise from Monday and I don’t want to be away from my father too long these days. We’ll see.

Newsfeed #103 August 16, 2018 (16 Úrimë)

WHERE HAVE I BEEN: WORDPRESS and other places….ahem..

Let’s just say, it has been an unimaginable summer. I sign Lee Pace’s birthday card, the next thing I know he’s signing a PlayBill and I started a WordPress Blog for The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy around the time I learn that Lee Pace (and Tom Hiddleston) will be in my backyard–6 to 8 hours away at ACE ComicCon in Chicago.

There’s more, but if I told you, I’d have to kill you…(kidding..no, seriously).

Wait, what’s this?

Okay, so Book II: The Saga of Thranduil doesn’t actually end here–it ends in the EpilogueofBook III: The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen. Soon you’ll realize Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen will end in the EpilogueofBook III: The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen. No, The Song of Seven Rivers isn’t ending in the EpilogueofBook III: The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen (as far as I know).. In other words, no one knows how Book II: The Saga of Thranduil will end. All you know now is that THE LAST CHAPTER is called THRANDUIL EVERLASTING. And it is found where?

In the EPILOGUEofBook III: The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen. Very good. ☺️

Now, for the fun part: WORDPRESS.

OnAugust 18, 2018 (8.18.18),The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy will debut on WordPress. Yes, it will be the entire trilogy (unless something else happens this year and forces me to put it in real book form and sell it in a book store–and at this moment, I’m trying to figure out how to translate my book into Hungarian).

(I had a lot of requests for TKWRT to find a way to be translated into several different languages). 

PLEASE NOTE: The Tumblr Blogs aren’t moving. The Book just has another blog to make it more accessible to more readers. It will be the last online platform for the book because, to be honest, it’s starting to outgrow the internet and is moving into website territory. When it comes to that…I have no idea what will happen but I’m sure a guy named Royd will have something to do with it.

QUESTIONS: I KNOW YOU HAVE THEM

I’m turning on the Ask Me Thing. Please be patient with getting answers: I’m getting them from E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E: Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr.  If you wish to contact me on WordPress, go to https://tkwrtrilogy.wordpress.com/contact/. Here: https://tkwrtnewsfeed.tumblr.com/ask.

So that’s about it–oh right: https://officialwptkwrt.wordpress.com.

Welcome To the Kingdom: Every journey has a beginning and a story to be told.

Newsfeed #101 June 17, 2018 (17 Nárië)

THE ANNUAL FATHER’S DAY RELEASE IS HERE!

The moment has arrived–and for some reason this year is more anticipated than before. Thranduil has been busy this summer (and it isn’t officially here until June 21). But enough about me–you’re here for the link that rules them all–until midnight on June 22).

The book is FREEandvirus-free as it is on Google Drive.

Newsfeed #100 June 2, 2018 (8 Nárië)

THE NEXT RELEASE DATE–AND THEN SOME

I always release the PDF version of Book II: The Saga of Thranduil on Father’s Day–after all, it is dedicated to my father. There will be a Table of Contents in this version (second draft). This year, there is more to be thankful for. 

Book II: The Saga of Thranduil was invited (as it were) to be submitted to professional readers in order to be seen by publishers and literary agents. This is a first for me; nothing I said to them scared them so they are well aware of all things that will come for any publisher or agent that chooses to represent The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy–including the fact that I recently began working on the “second” book of the trilogy. All they said to me was, “We look forward to your submission.”

Book II: The Saga of Thranduil might get to see actor Lee Pace (with the first news, this “secret” news probably won’t remain quiet forever). Fans of the book and Lee Pace have been wanting him to read it and an opening to do that became available. (I won’t say when, where or how just yet–stay tuned; that one’s complicated and more so with the first news).

It is the Summer of 2018–Mirkwood Rising, I call it. It seems to be coming true in more ways than one.

So there it is: the Father’s Day gift I never expected to be able to give to my father (that received an autographed copy of my book for him for his birthday). He wondered out loud when people in the literary world were going to see this book. This year I can say with 100% certainty they will. It is a dream come true for my first book and trilogy. No matter what happens, Book III: The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen will always be dedicated to my readers all over the world–whether they are reading the PDFs or maybe one day, holding the book in their hands. Because of you, I got the chance. 

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 #96 February 28, 2018 (31 Nénimë)

HOT OFF THE PRESSES: THE SAGA OF THRANDUIL

It’s my father’s birthday and I asked him what he wanted. He thought about and he said, $100. I told him I didn’t have $100. So he said, $5 and a copy of the book I keep talking about. So, I went to work:

This is what two days, two ink cartridges, 515 pages, 30 chapters, 183,300 words over 730 days looks like: A ream of paper or really good doorstop. I found a box for it (because it’s a hefty stack of paper) and signed it turning this stack of copy paper into the first official hard copy of Book II: The Saga of Thranduil (original version) ever seen in its most complete form–so far. It’s not complete just yet (it’s still in editing).

HOWEVER–

What is in this version is different than the last (if you read the last one) is the fact that the appendix has additions and clues to what’s coming in Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen:@tkwrtrilogy3,Book III: The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen:@trenarnolegolaslasgalen, as well as the Extended Version of Book II: The Saga of Thranduil: @extendedtkwrtrilogyend and the Extended Version of Book III:@tkwrtrilogylasttale. 

What’s in it for you? Well, you get 24 hours to download this lovely second draft of Book II: The Saga of Thranduil in honor of my father’s birthday.

https://drive.google.com/open?id=19pZBc7-uKCh8KjAkFjj7JjkkLmZ26unZ

From12am February 28 to 12am March 1, you get to download this book one more time before you’ll only be able to read it online (for awhile–a long while; TBA).

Happy Birthday to My Father: Dr. Herman T. Miller, PhD. I ❤️You.

Image: ©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.

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.‍⚖️

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. 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. III)

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

“Are you lost,” he asked.

“I am not quite sure,” I answered.

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

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

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

We began walking toward a familiar hallway.

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

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

When we came to my quarters, we stopped.

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

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

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

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

“How is Oropher,” I asked.

“He is sleeping peacefully,” she said.

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

“Uncle is entranced,” she said.

“I beg your pardon?”

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

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

She glared at me.

“Why does this not bother you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“She is not one of us,” she said.

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

“Queen Melian is a maiar,” she said.

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

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

“You do not know what I am saying.”

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

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

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

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

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

She stood up and came to me.

“Why does this not bother you, Orothôn?”

I looked at the wonder in her eyes.

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

“Yes,” she answered.

“Because I do not care.”

She frowned at me and I smiled at her.

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

“I suppose you are right,” she whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

“Orothôn! Mîrwen!”

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

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

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

“Oh,” Êlengolas said. “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is this,” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is the matter,” I asked.

“You are dressed for war,” she answered.

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

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

“That is wonderful. What is he called?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter III: Doriath (Pt. II)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Denethor,” I said. “You are here?”

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

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

“How is Arethuil,” I asked.

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

“He is Oropher,” I said proudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She is quite beautiful,” she began softly.

“Queen Melian,” I said. “She is.”

“She is not one of us,” she said.

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

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

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

“When are you due,” Arethuil asked her.

“Quite possibly after dinner,” Galadhon teased.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are wise,” Celebriel said smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter III: Doriath (Pt. I)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Orothôn,” she said, her face stoic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know very little,” I answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine, Ada,” he said.

“You found a new friend, I see.”

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

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

“I will think on it, Ada,” he said.

As we approached our home, Amareth approached us.

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

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

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

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

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

I did not have anything else to say.

“Carry on, then,” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Before they could continue, Níndi noticed me.

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

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

“Do not be afraid,” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon,” I asked.

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

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

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

“Beleriand,” I asked.

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

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

“Are you well,” I heard Níndi ask.

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

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

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

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

“When do we depart,” I asked.

“Not long.”

“Do you know where we will go?”

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

“Just now,” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shall we go now,” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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