#writing high fantasy

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 #116 August 18, 2019 (18 Úrimë)

Happy 1st Anniversary to Thranduil!

365 days ago, The Saga of Thranduil debuted on WordPress for the first time. 16,600+ views later, here we are. For 24 hours, I decided to release the original version one last time before the release of the Extended Version in December.

The next time it will be available will inside the entire trilogy. Don’t worry, though–another surprise is forthcoming.

If you belong to the book’s Facebook Page, you’ll be able to download it there. You may also download it here: https://tkwrtrilogy.wordpress.com/2019/08/18/happy-first-anniversary/

For everyone else, go to https://drive.google.com/open?id=1wpSK81RnBiweFnGhdUN52hym7edsMv-z

Thank you for reading. If my father were here, he would be proud.

Newsfeed #115 August 17, 2019 (17 Úrimë)

English & Italian: One Fine Day

I’m “fortunate” to have such a great friend who is also angelic and happens to be Italian to create titles for me (Okay, I lost a bet; moving on). 

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 #109 December 15, 2018 (15 Ringarë)

THELAST RELEASE–FOR 365 DAYS, ANYWAY.

I can’t say 2018 was a bad year. True, I lost my father in October but, aside from that, it was a very good year. Things have changed but not drastically–something expected after the death of a close family member. I have it on good authority that I must focus on doing this for myself or not at all. Those were my father’s last words of wisdom about Book II: The Saga of Thranduil; spoken two months before he died. He knew he was going to die. He knew I wrote my first book for him. He wanted this story to go on; to be shared with the world. Rather than wallow in sadness (like my family actually let me mourn–they were trying to kick me out of my house a day after he was buried), I will continue to write The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy until it is done.

Yes, after this release of Book II: The Saga of Thranduil (that will be available for one week), there will be no more until December 22, 2019. I would like to complete the extended version and make the final changes on this one. I also have two other volumes in this trilogy I would like to finish (on top of two standalone books). I am working with another writer on another series–for all I know, this thing will grow larger and perhaps other writers may come. One book opened up endless possibilities.

Anyway, this 3rd Anniversary Edition will have some changes:

• No Appendix: It requires extensive work now that there are additions from Book I (and it grows). However, I look forward to making changes and completing all online versions of it. 
  
• The Table of Contents: It will be in the back of the book this time. As with the Appendix, it is a work in progress so it is possible the numbers will change before the final version. 

I am fully aware that I may lose some followers due to the new Tumblr guidelines. I will hate to see you go–do what you have to do. I know that my heart will go on. ❤️ Besides, I’m also on WordPress if you wish to go there and read it. https://officialwptkwrt.wordpress.com

Now, for the moment everyone’s been waiting for (especially that high schooler that wanted to have something to read when they ran out of books): 

https://drive.google.com/open?id=1twuhNjKPNp8pX2kUBqG8vom0CU1O36S6

(you can also find the link here: https://tkwrtrilogy.wordpress.com).

Since there are more additions to both versions of Book II, at this juncture, I do not know when the extended version will be available in its next draft but I’m sure it will be in 2019*.

I don’ t know what 2019 will have in store for Thranduil and the Woodland Elves. It will feel strange to go into my first New Year without my father. But much like The Elvenking, I will survive. 

*To be announced.

Images: © 2002. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. All Rights Reserved. © 2014. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies. All Rights Reserved.

Newsfeed #108 December 3, 2018 (3 Ringarë)

MERRY CHRISTMAS: ANOTHER BOOK IS ON ITS WAY!

I know, it’s been awhile. I had to take care of a few things after the death of my father. He will be missed but I know he would have wanted me to continue my work (he told me as much prior to his death). Just would like to say that there are TWO of us now–two writers of stories based on the works of John Ronald Reuel Tolkien.

Introducing “The House of Durin” by Deborah Meneghetti. 

Tumblr: https://thehouseofdurin.tumblr.com 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/The-House-of-Durin-2262672203745024/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/de_crystalwings/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/de_crystalwings

It will be available in (get this) ENGLISHandITALIAN! Yes, this venture is about to go multi-lingual (see below as well). See, I plugged that one, @fortunatelyclevercandy . Just for you, Angioletto .

To give you a little background on what is going on: This book is as it is described, ”The story of the heirs of Durin the Deathless”. Anyone who has read the works of J.R.R. Tolkien knows that the line of Durin runs deep so this will be an opportunity to explore it in depth. Like The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy,The House of Durin is based on the works of Tolkien; put together from what he has left behind, as it were.

Eventually, both books will weave together in many places readers are familiar with and from different perspectives, you can imagine. The other two standalone books belonging to TKWRT (The Song of Seven Rivers@tkwrtsongofsevenriversandOf Lords & Kings@oflordsandkingstkwrtbook ) will do the same thing. In the end, there will be several books telling different tales from the same world that at times meet each other.

Imagine: Girls thought of all this.

Moving on:

This year is the 3rd Anniversary of Book II: The Saga of Thranduil. It is hard to believe how far it has come. This year is special because someone has offered to translate it (and all the other books) into Polish (and possibly French). We are still working out the details and when that moment comes, read it here. Translation: We’re thinking about it.

UPDATE: TKWRT EXPANDS ITS AUDIENCE

Our demographics (according to emails and Facebook) show a demographic that was 18-65 but I learned that some people in my father’s home were into it and an 11th grader (and Tolkien fan) just requested a copy. I won’t say why an 80-year-old woman was interested in turning this book into a film about Thranduil because that would be something for the record books. 

I don’t know what Lee Pace as Thranduil has done to women but it must have been something pretty remarkable for an 80-year-old to want him to return to the screen via Book II: The Saga of Thranduil. Wow, that’s just wow. According to a rumor, I had a four-hour conversation about Lee Pace and I have yet to figure out if I said anything that would offer a clue to why he’s so appealing.

Either way, TKWRT has been officially mainstream for some time now. Getting awesome reviews from people that keep asking me to have this thing published. Well, I can’t say for certain if that will be anytime soon, but I never said I wasn’t looking into it (on several fronts–I’ve made some friends along the way that could make that happen if you ask me nicely). 

COMING 2019

As promised, there will be a sneak preview of the upcoming books

Reasonably since they are both connected by marriage to Book II: The Saga of Thranduil. But also another book will share the moment with them.

Most already know that this book is also here: @trenarnolegolaslasgalenand@tkwrtrilogylasttale (extended version). Yep, going to start working on the FINAL (as in, this will be the last book) in the TKWRT Trilogy. There have been some changes in the format so this is the main reason for a preview. The main reason is the additions made to the EXTENDED VERSION of Book II.

SURPRISE: IT’S BACK & ITS YOUR JOB!

What readers get to do is decide what will go into the final version of the original book. Some people like Legolas’ younger sister Isílriel and most adore the baby elves (and in this one, there are more). Some like the idea of Êlúriel surviving (which in order to have her daughter she would have to live a little longer. Whatever you like–however you like your “Thrandy”, you get some input. If I were you, I’d wait until after Book III: The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen for one reason–the last chapter of Book II is in the prologue and you might want to see that first. 

Yeah, you’re going to really want to see this one.

No, seriously. What has Lee done to you people? You were once so normal. I don’t know. I hardly know most of you. Just trying to figure out this 80-year-old wanting to see a film about Thranduil based on my book with Lee Pace in it. Is it that serious? Really? I don’t see it. 

So that sums up what has been happening since the last post. Still getting over my dad. It took me a couple weeks to get used to the fact I can’t pick up the phone and call him to tell him about all the things happening with the books. I have a few photos my family (who have yet to even call and ask how I’m doing–I’ll live) gave to me. It’s something. I know he’s somewhere looking over me; avoiding my mother who probably is talking everyone to death in the afterlife.

Until next time: Come for the story, stay for Thranduil. I know, I know.

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 #94 January 23, 2018 (23 Narvinyë)

One Last Time: The Saga of Thranduil Download

I’m proud to present one last time: Both versions of Book II: The Saga of Thranduil by Me (J. Marie Miller).

January 24-26

Book II: The Saga of Thranduil (original version): https://drive.google.com/open?id=1ZOqrwDQblr2Pg-Yzpz2snmp-90Jowo8k

Book II: The Saga of Thranduil (extended version): https://drive.google.com/open?id=1r-wnt88BX9mPZHwf0w4E45uugggOasO0

Don’t miss the Q&A for Book II: The Saga of Thranduil: https://twitter.com/tkwrtrilogy

“Time begins as it will end—in a moment. There have been many moments that have come and gone since we awoke. There are many forests in this world, and many mountains rise above them beneath an endless night. We would never forget our birth, for it was then as one we came into light.  But time would wear away that which was never meant to be put asunder and all that we once knew would fall into a darkness as great as shadows cast by mountains against the setting of the sun.”–Iarûr form the Chronicles of Orothôn (Book I: The History of Eryn Galen) by J.M.Miller 8-10-16

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 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. 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 II: A Son is Born (Pt. III)

“I was resting in bed alone—Mîrwen left to attend her mother as she often would. I was lost in thought of nothing in particular when I heard quiet chatter nearby.

“This is my room,” a voice said. “I sleep here. They sleep there.”

“Mine, too,” another voice said. “Your ada is still in here.”

I slowly turned my head toward the voices. I saw two little heads coming towards me.

“Oropher and Eldôr,” I said softly. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I am showing Eldôr my room, Ada,” he said looking up at me.

“It looks like mine,” Eldôr added.

“I can imagine,” I answered. I felt myself trying not to laugh at their curiosity. They were starting to grow quickly in this world under starlight—yet they seemed oblivious to the skies under which I awakened.

“May I ask why you are not with your mothers?”

“Nana is away,” Oropher answered. “She is with the others.”

“They are with the elfling,” Eldôr added.

I thought myself for moment. I could count on my fingers the newborns.

“Do you speak of Nimeithel,” I asked.

“No,” Oropher said teasing me.  "The new one.”

“There are two,” Eldôr said. “Remember?”

“Yes,” Oropher nodded. “Two elflings.”

“Might I enter,” asked a voice from outside.

“Enter, Valdôr,” I said.

“I see you have visitors,” he said as he entered. “Eldôr, your mother has been looking everywhere for you.”

“I am in here,” he answered.

“I had not noticed,” his father said. “Off with you.”

“And you as well,” I said to Oropher.

They ran out quickly.

“Were you looking for me?”

“Really, Orothôn,” Valdôr began sitting nearby. “There are two elves I can find at any moment if need be and neither one of them is my wife and son.”

“I hear there are newborns,” I said sitting up.

“Yes, Celebriel has had a son,” he said. “Valdúmîr a daughter.”

“Oh,” I said with a smile.

“Not a word,” Valdôr scolded. “Êlengolas cares not he now has two daughters; only that they are the most beautiful elflings he has ever seen.”

“Of course,” I answered. “Have you see either one?”

“I have Galathil,” he said.

“Galathil?”

“Yes, Galadhon named him after his brother at the behest of his wife.”

“They are close,” I said. “None closer I have seen.”

“Nor I,” Valdôr said.

I could tell something was on his mind.

“What are you to telling me,” I asked.

“Iarûr has said our time is nigh,” he whispered. “We are not long to leave this land.”

“And this displeases you, Valdôr?”

“That is not my concern,” he answered. “What concerns me was how he said it. As to say peril was upon us.”

He turned away as I rose to dress. When I was done he turned back.

“You know Iarûr has known things we will never comprehend, Valdôr. He would never lead us astray.”

“I know,” he added. “But that brings little comfort. Not since we long left Denethor behind.”

“Come, let us find Êlengolas,” I said.

He rose and we walked outside making our way toward where Êlengolas resided with his family. He was outside holding his newborn daughter while his first born pulled on his leg.

“I want to see,” Nimeithel said.

She was beautiful—her hair nearly white and her complexion just as fair.

“Quiet,” Êlengolas said. “You will wake your sister.”

“Might we have a look,” I asked

He proudly showed us a tiny bundle—barely a feature to behold waiting for time to reveal them.

“She is beautiful,” I whispered.

“I want to see,” Nimeithel cried. I bent down and picked her up. She gazed in wonder at her new sister.

“What do you call her,” Valdôr asked.

“Valdúril,” Êlengolas said. She takes after her mother as Nimeithel takes after me.”

Nimríel came out of Êlengolas’ dwelling.

“Give her to me,” she said.

Êlengolas carefully handed over his daughter to her as I put down the other. They went inside as we walked away.

“You told Orothôn of Galathil,” he asked Valdôr.

“I have,” he answered.

“He told me what Iarûr said,” I added.

He stopped abruptly and looked at me. His eyes seemed locked on me—his face stoic.

“So you have heard we will leave this place soon?”

“Yes.”

“Did Valdôr tell you why?”

I looked at Valdôr.

“I thought it wise for you to tell him, Êlengolas.”

“Tell me what,” I asked. I started to fear the answer.

“Círdan has moved on from here,” he began. “He left alone—the others remain with us.”

“He left without a word,” I asked.

“Yes, but not without direction.”

“Elmo believes he will lead us to Elwë,” Valdôr said.

“Do you know for certain,” I asked.

“Eäros said he is very close with Elwë,” Êlengolas answered. “If anyone would know where Elwë can be found, it would be Círdan.”

“But if he has gone, how will we find either of them,” I asked.

They looked at one another as to know the answer would frighten me.

“Elmo knows where his brother resides,” Êlengolas said. “He remains tethered to this world.”

“He waits for us, then,” I  asked.

“No,” Valdôr said. “He waits for no one.”

“I do not understand,” I said.

Êlengolas looked toward the west.

“We are about to come into his kingdom.”

He looked at me and I knew we would never see Eldamar.”–TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller 4-20-2018

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

Chapter I: Awakened (Pt. V)

“I love you,” Mîrwen whispered to me at long last.  

I had found myself staring at her face while she rested for a time.

“I am glad,” I said. “I love you, too.”

“Are you as happy as me,” she asked.

“I am not sure,” I said. “I do not know how happy you are.”

She kissed me tenderly and I felt a quaking run through my body.

“I am extraordinarily happy, Orothôn,” she said quietly.

“Then I am afraid I am far happier than you, Mîrwen.”

She smiled—her eyes seemed to sing to mine a love song only I could hear. Our gaze seems to take us away to a paradise beyond what was promised until it was disrupted by an elven maiden I did not recognize coming into our sanctuary. 

“Many pardons,” she said. “I was set by the Lady Orowen.”

“Nárwen,” Mîrwen said. “You have not yet met Orothôn. Nárwen is the wife of Galathil.”

I nodded uncomfortably as I had not risen to cover myself properly.

“I was present at your joining,” she began. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” I said softly as I tried to keep myself covered.

“What does mother want,” Mîrwen asked.

“She only said to send for you and your husband,” Nárwen said. “There are whispers among the Eldalië. I do not know what they are saying but it must be of great importance if it concerns Elwë.”

“Tell my mother and father we will come shortly, Nárwen,” she said, her voice trembling.

Nárwen bowed and left quickly.

“You are worried,” I said.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I know what is on the lips of the Eldalië.”

“Do you wish to tell me,” I asked.

“You have seen one whose sadness lingers in your mind even now,” she answered, as her gaze on me felt chilling. I did remember the maiden with pain in her eyes.

“The one that walked with your mother,” I said.

“She is Taurëa, wife of Lenwë,” she said. “Their son is Denethor. He is close to my brothers. Not all is as it seems, Orothôn. Not all of the Eldalië wish to go beyond the mountains.”.“Êlengolas spoke of that,” I remembered. “Long before we left the shores of Cuiviénen.”

“Many of us did leave,” she said. “There are some that remained. Something has hardened the heart of Lenwë causing discord between father and son.”

“I can see how that would pain Taurëa,” I said thinking.

Mîrwen took my hand and kissed it. She looked at me; her eyes full of tears.

“What will become of us, Orothôn,” she asked.

“Whatever comes, we will face it together,” I whispered as I kissed her forehead.

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

Once we were ready to leave our sanctuary, we emerged to an eerie calm. Nothing seemed out of place. Couplings surrounded the trees as we made our way to a sparsely occupied place where my new household held audience. When we were noticed, Galadhon approached us with another elf close behind.

“Orothôn,” he began. “I do not believe you have met Denethor, son of Lenwë.”

“No,” I answered, bowing to him. “It is an honor.”

“For me as well,” he said gleefully, turning to wife. “Lady Mîrwen, you are looking more beautiful than before. Love agrees with you.”

“And with you,” she answered. “May I inquire about Arethuil?”

“She is with Mother,” he said, his demeanor changing. “Both are with Orowen.”

“Then I shall join them,” Mîrwen said. “I will leave you to your ways.”

Galadhon and Denethor bowed as she left my side. I felt lonely—even with Galadhon standing beside me.

“Come, Orothôn,” he said. “As one of us, it is your right and obligation to attend council.”

We made our way toward a clearing the forest where I could see Elwë, Elmo and Lenwë sitting with other elves—Galathil among them. As we grew closer, we heard discussions.

“We must leave as quickly as we can,” Elmo said. “Beyond these mountains above us lies our path to Eldamar.”

“I do not understand why we must hasten westward on hope alone,” Lenwë argued. “If it was of urgency, we would have followed Ingwë, Finwë and your brother Olwë beyond this wood.”

“Our minds are our own, Lenwë,” Elwë answered. “This much is true. But we are not alone. As the chosen of our people, it is to them our thoughts must belong.”

“Whatever is decided,” Galadhon said. “May it be soon as Celebriel is quick with child.”

“That is wonderful, brother,” Galathil said upon our approach. “I am proud for you.”

“This is cause for celebration,“ Elwë said smiling. “My dear brother has started a legacy. May it last the ages.”

As we gave our blessing to Galadhon, I could see Lenwë fuming to himself. 

“Enough,” he finally said. “I will give you my decision upon our audience next.”

He stormed away, het his son did not follow. After moment of silence, a voice broke through the tension.

“So, my first born son is to become a father,”

It was Orowen with Taurëa, Nárwen, Mîrwen and two other maidens with whom I was not familiar.

“Yes, Nana,” Galadhon said as he took the hand of one of the three.

Celebriel was an elf of great beauty—her flawless skin was kissed by golden tendrils that fell effortlessly to her waist. The one Denethor went to was Arethuil—equally as beautiful with long golden hair and eyes clear as water. They seemed lost in each other; as they were the only ones in the world. Mîrwen approached me with a smile on her face.

“Arethuil, have you met Orothôn,” she asked. “I know Celebriel has yet to do so.”

They bowed reverently as Taurëa came to me.

“You are Orothôn,” she asked.

“Yes, My Lady,” I answered nervously.

“I see many great things that will come from you. A great many things.”

I had no words to say—her presence was overwhelming as Elwë’s.

“It is good to see you, Taurëa,” Elwë said.

“You are too kind, Elwë,” she said bowing.

“Where has Lenwë gone off to,” Orowen asked. “Was he not with you? Elwë? Elmo?”

“He was,” Elmo said. “He has taken his leave for a time.”

“You must go the way of the Eldalië,” Taurëa said. “No matter what may come of us.”

“What are you saying, Mother,” Denethor asked concerned.

“Your father has made his decision,” she said. “I will remain with him as his wife.” 

“You know these things to be true,” Elwë asked her.

“I know my husband, Elwë. I have made peace with the part of him that will not be moved. For better or for worse.” 

“Then I shall stay with my parents,” Denethor said angrily.

“No,” Taurëa answered, “You will go forth beyond the mountains as it is your destiny.”

Taurëa looked around—as to remember something long lost.

“When you leave,” she began. “Do not return to look for me.”

She turned away and left briskly in the direction of her husband. The she was gone, everyone seemed like they were searching for words to say.

“Go your way for now,” Elwë said. “Soon we shall depart for Eldamar."––TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by J.Marie Miller 2-1-2018

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 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.

Chapter VII: Darkness Falls (Pt. III)

I said nothing to Oropher about my vision. If he suspected anything, he said nothing. I put it out of my mind and life became routine once more. We heard little of the world beyond Doriath for a time that seemed longer than it was—when we returned to the realities of the world.

I was in the throne room with Orowen and Mîrwen early one morning before I was to meet Iarûr in the library.

“This younger generation of elves are so ambitious,” Orowen said to Mîrwen.

“Why do they wish to wait to start a family? Amdir wishes to follow Oropher’s example.”

“I do not know, Nana,” Mîrwen answered. “But I know Nimeithel agrees with her husband.”

“I have heard nothing from Anadriel,” Orowen said. “She keeps busy with Nimloth and Ëarmîr.”

“From what I understand, Nimeithel has her own hands full keeping up with Lúthien,” I added. “I do not know when she would find the time to start a family.”

“Have you not heard,” Orowen began. “Lúthien will have new accommodations soon.”

“New accommodations,” I asked curiously.

“On uncle’s orders,” Mîrwen said. “For her safety.”

“What could be safer than Menegroth,” I asked. “Are you sure you heard correctly?”

They nodded as Oropher approached with Celeborn.

“Good morning, Ada,” he said cheerfully.

“Have you heard of new accommodations for the Princess Lúthien,” I asked.

Celeborn looked down as Oropher sighed.

“I think you should come with us,” Oropher said.

I left with them for a short journey to a place where builders were constructing something around a tree. Overseeing the workers were Thingol, Elmo and both Galathils.

“This should keep my daughter secured and well-placed to have her ladies attend to her every whim,” I heard Thingol say. 

As he turned to leave, we bowed to him. 

“This should make things easier for Nimeithel,” he said to Oropher.

With that, he left with Elmo and his son.

“Galathil,” Celeborn said to his brother. “How are things?”

“Father was instructed to have me ensure things are done quickly and to the liking of the king.”

“May I ask what endangers the king’s daughter for him to go to such measures,” I asked.

“Love, I am afraid,” Galathil said. “What else is there?”

Oropher rolled his eyes.

“What is on your mind, son?”

“Nothing, Ada,” he said.

“Amdir and I overheard Saeros speaking to Iarûr,” Celeborn began. “Before you say it, Brother, I know it was bad form but they were in the hall in which we were walking.”

“You grow more like your wife every day,” Galathil said.

“As I was saying,” Celeborn continued. “Daeron informed the king of his daughter’s plans. I know not what they were, but I am quite sure it was her desire to follow the mortal on his quest.”

“Beren,” I asked. “How would anyone know where he is or if he lives?”

“There is no better way to know than to search,” Galathil said.

“So Thingol wishes Hírilorn turned into her gilded cage for her safety,” Celeborn added.

“That is rather extreme,” I whispered.

“These are dangerous times,” Galathil said.

“Made all the more dangerous by such a monstrosity,” Oropher added. “If she can get out of Menegroth, she will get out of this.”

“It is my duty to make sure that does not happen,” Galathil said sternly. “Our dear cousin is a bit unruly, as you well know.”

Oropher left abruptly and I went after him.

“Oropher,” I said as I caught up to him. “What is bothering you?”

“I can assure you, Father,” he began as he stopped walking. “Lúthien will not remain in that place for long.”

“How are you so sure,” I asked.

“There is nothing in this world that can keep the heart from what it will do for love, no matter how foolish.”

“It can be said to apply to a father for his daughter,” I answered. “We will do many foolish things for love.”

“Perhaps,” Oropher said more calmly. “But of two loves, only one will break its chains and change this world forever.”

He left me alone in shock at his words. Who was this man I called son and where were these profound revelations coming from?–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 9-22-2019

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 VI: The Second Awakening (Pt. V)

I took my place beside Mîrwen—I marveled at how she radiated when she smiled at me. We stood with Elmo and Orowen, Galadhon and Celebriel, Galathil and Nárwen on either side of King Thingol and Queen Melian. Oropher, Amdir, Galathil, and Eäros stood with their wives beside Celeborn and Galadriel as they stood before the court to take their vows. 

“Celeborn, son of Galadhon,” Daeron began. “You have chosen Galadriel?”
“I have,” Celeborn said proudly.

“And you, Galadriel, daughter of Finarfin,” another elf said to her. “You have chosen Celeborn?”

“I have,” Galadriel said gazing into Celeborn’s eyes.

Daeron and the elf bowed to Things as he stood to address the couple.

“I say to you both, you have my blessing.”

They shared a kiss and the Great Hall erupted with cheers. Servants cleared the hall to prepare for evening celebrations as we left with the family into an adjacent room beyond the thrones. Once there, I noticed King Thingol speaking to his queen quietly across from us. The door opened.

“Saeros,” Thingol said to the elf that entered. “Come.”

I recognized him as the other officiant. Unlike most elves in the service of the king, he was a Nandor. Today was his first official duty as a member of the council. Graceful and fair, his demeanor reminded me of Denethor.

“That was a beautiful ceremony,” Orowen began. “It was indeed the respite from the goings-on beyond these walls we needed.”

“If you are referring to the sundering of the lands around Beleriand by the sons of Fëanor, Fingolfin, and Finarfin, then yes, it was,” Galadhon said quietly.

“It is your son’s wedding day,” Elmo began sternly. “There will be none of that.”
“Where has Celeborn gone to,” Mîrwen asked, looking around.

“He is probably with his brother and his cousins,” I said. “His bride was last seen with Lúthien and her ladies.”

“I am rather looking forward to this evening,” Galathil said. “How long has it been since we have found cause to celebrate?”

“Too long,” I said.

Shortly, we found ourselves summoned to the Great Hall again for feast and merriment into the night. When I was not dancing with Mîrwen, I spent my time observing my kin enjoying themselves. Even Súlwë found a measure of happiness as he danced with Galadriel. For a moment, it seemed the past was forgiven.

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

One morning not long after, I lay in bed—my eyes shut with my mind drifting peacefully in tranquil darkness. I felt Mîrwen move closer to me, her lips touching mine. I opened my eyes to find her looking at me. We kissed again and soon we were lost in each other’s arms.

“How is my wife this morning,” I asked.

“She is very happy,” she said. 

She kissed me again, but I did not respond. 

“What is the matter?”

“It is too quiet,” I answered. “Something is about to happen.”

“Do not be silly,” Mîrwen said, kissing me again.

There was a knock at the door. Mîrwen frowned at me as I smiled at her.

“I told you so,” I whispered. “One moment, if you will,” I said to the door.

Mîrwen rose from our bed and covered herself with her robe.

“Enter,” she said.

When the door opened, several ladies entered. I recognized two of them.

“Good morning, Nimeithel; Valdúril.”

“Orothôn,” Nimeithel said as she turned to Mîrwen. “Wonderful news! Níndi is with child and Galathil has asked Meriel for her hand.”

“That is wonderful news,” Mîrwen cried gleefully.

“Yes,” I began. “Wonderful.”

They all turned and looked at me for what seemed a lifetime.

“Apologies, my love,” Mîrwen finally said. 

She motioned for the ladies to follow her to her dressing corner so I could properly cover myself in my robe. It was then another knock came. I sighed deeply.

“Enter,” I said as I sat down on the bed. It was Êlengolas and Finëar.

“You are not in bed,” Finëar said.

I pointed behind me.

“Oh,” he said again.

More dressers entered as Mîrwen emerged dressed for the day. She came to me and whispered into my ear.

“Until later,” she said as she kissed my cheek.

I nodded and she disappeared into the hall with the ladies.

“I do not wish to know,” Êlengolas began. “Please keep that to yourself.”

I let out a weak laugh as the dressers got to work.

“Any word from court other than Galathil’s engagement?”

“Lady Galadriel has left Beleriand,” Finëar said.

“Why,” I asked.

“It is nothing,” Êlengolas added. “She went to see her brother.”

“The king allowed this,” I asked.

“He cannot deny her such a request even as he and his brothers are exiled.”

“Did Celeborn leave with her?”

“No, he remains,” Finëar answered. “He has duties to attend to here.”

“He is the grandson of the king’s brother. Let no grudge go unheld,” Êlengolas said as the dressers finished and left.

The three of us made our way toward the Great Hall.

“Where does Finrod make his home,” I asked.

“Not far from our southwest borders,” Finëar said. “The sons of Fëanor are our north and east.”

“Do not forget Fingolfin and his sons,” Êlengolas said. “They occupy territory in the Northwest regions. All is right with the world.”

“For now,” I said to myself as we continued on our way.

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

As the years went on, our world began to grow. There were noticeably more elves and naugrim walking the hills and valleys of Arda. After the birth of Eäros and Níndi’s son Ëarmîr, Galathil wed Meriel. Not long thereafter, their daughter Nimloth was born.

In the days following, my visions became more frequent and vivid. I told no one of the darkness and the despair I saw but Oropher seemed to understand whenever I became distant from friends and family.

There were rumors out of Ossiriand from the remnants of the Laiquendi still residing there. A new creature had appeared. Unlike the naugrim, it was said to be far more pleasant to look upon, yet their presence was unwelcome. Saeros would scoff at the stories of his lost people as fantasy as their plight of living under the eyes of two sons of Fëanor was less than ideal. 

Queen Melian, however, took these rumors to heart. She said very little on the matter except to tell us not to dismiss these tales out of hand for creation continues under the Heavens. After a while, the rumors would be put aside and we went on with our lives—until the night when the rumors came within the borders of Doriath. 

For elves, the night brought us comfort. We awoke beneath the stars so it was not uncommon for any of us to find ourselves outside on cloudless nights lost in thought. On nights such as this, Lúthien would wander out of the palace. It was unclear why—for it had started to become routine. Upon her return each time, her behavior seemed changed. Her cousin Galathil fell suspicious first—telling Oropher she was almost tolerable. Still, no one said a word. It was in her nature, we told ourselves.

One moonlit night, I went to find my son. He was on watch in the keep. When I arrived, he was lost in thought, gazing into the sky.

“What is on your mind, son,” I asked.

“Not a thing,” he said, turning his gaze toward me. “I was enjoying the view.”

I went to join him at the window. It was one of the most beautiful nights I had seen.

“What a view it is,” I said. “It is breathtaking.”

“Perhaps if we were outside,” he began. “I would love to take Nimeithel for a walk.”

“There will be other nights,” I said. “How is Nimeithel?”

“She has been tasked to look after Lúthien,” he answered. “To see where she wanders on the orders of grandmother. She thinks Lúthien has found a new place to wander but she wants to make sure it is not too far from Menegroth.”

“Has she returned,” I asked.

“She never left,” Oropher laughed. “Lúthien escaped before she could follow.”

We look out the window and saw Daeron leaving—crossing the bridge swiftly.

“Where is Daeron going,” I asked.

Oropher looked for himself.

“I do not know, but he has been often wandering out of Menegroth as of late searching for Lúthien.”

“Perhaps he goes for the king,” I said.

“The king does not know,” he answered.

“How is that possible?”

“I cannot say,” Oropher began. “But he does not know Daeron is in love with his daughter.”

“I beg your pardon,” I cried.

“It is true, Ada,” he said. “I do not know how no one has noticed how he looks upon her.”

“Everyone looks upon Lúthien with high regard,” I said.

Oropher laughed.

“He looks upon her as I look upon Nimeithel or Eldôr looks upon Valdúril. He is in love but it is unrequited.”

I looked out again to see Daeron returning from his outing. Even at a distance, I could see he was infuriated.

“He is not happy,” I said.

“How can you tell,” Oropher asked. “He always looks that way.”

“Something has him overwrought,” I said. “Perhaps I should go after him.”

“There is no need to,” Oropher said pointing into the night.

I saw Lúthien coming across the bridge and into the gates. We looked at each other perplexed. I would not be long before the answer to our questions would come walking into the court of King Thingol.––TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 8-03-2019

Note to @staff : This is Liv Tyler as Arwen. Duh.

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 VI: The Second Awakening (Pt. III)

They remained with us longer than expected with Finrod’s brothers leaving only to return with Angrod. I assumed Things wished to see all the brothers of Finarfin. Life at court became routine again. Mîrwen was determined to see Oropher and Nimeithel start a family, but Oropher remained steadfast in his resolve to wait. I spent most of my days with Galadhon, Galathil, Iarûr, and Finëar learning about the histories and traditions of our people. It was long and laborious but necessary. Even as my earliest memories of Lake Cuiviénen were starting to fade, I realized their importance. Súlwë proved quite valuable in this endeavor—sharing the many tales his father Olwë with us. Whenever Daeron was with us, we said nothing of Súlwë and he never asked about “Nimernil” while he was in the library.

One evening, I was with Iarûr putting away the scrolls when I noticed how much we had done so far.

“There are more here than I realized,” I said as I began to roll them up. “I find it hard to believe so much time has passed.”

“So true,” he began as he finished writing. “Yet time is the only thing we have so much and so little of all at once.”

“What do you remember, if I may ask?”

“I remember very little,” Iarûr said. “I think that was by design. If we knew everything, then what would we have to learn?”

“You make a very good point,” I began. “So we are learning what we already know.”

“What do we know,” he asked. “We are here. We were born and perhaps we will die—or not. All we know is what we have seen and little else. We speculate on the unknown hoping one day, somehow, the mystery will be solved. Perhaps there are some things meant to be unknown for a reason.”

“Are you looking to know everything,” I asked.

“I do not believe I want to know everything, Orothôn,” he said laughing. “Some things should remain a mystery forever.”

“True,” I agreed. “Just do not tell that to my wife.”

“The fairer of us know too much already,” Iarûr said. “That must be by design because it is inexplicable.”

As we laughed at ourselves, Finëar entered—his face flushed.

“What is it, Finëar,” Iarûr asked him.

“It is King Thingol,” he said. “He is angry. The court is in chaos.”

“What happened,” I asked approaching him.

“The sons of Finarfin revealed to him all that brought them into Arda,” he said groaning. “It was devastating.”

“Calm yourself,” Iarûr said. “What did you hear?”

“I do not know where to begin,” Finëar said as he sat on a bench. “There were jewels and fire and Morgoth…”

“What,” Iarûr interrupted sternly. “Did you say Morgoth?”

“Morgoth,” I asked.

“I did, Iarûr,” he answered.
Iarûr’s face began to lose its color. He looked at Finëar again.

“Are you sure you heard correctly,” Iarûr asked him.

“Yes,” Finëar answered. “I overheard the Lady Galadriel speaking with the Queen not long ago. I was sworn to secrecy when I was discovered. But tonight, all was revealed to the king. His anger was palpable. He cast them out of Doriath.”

“Galadriel as well,” I asked him thinking of Celeborn.

“No,” Finëar answered. “For she has found favor with the queen. But her brothers have gone.”

“Morgoth remains,” Iarûr whispered to himself. “Then this is not over.”

Iarûr looked across the room to see Súlwë standing by the entrance doors.

“They attacked my family for jewels,” he said—his face stoic.

Finëar nodded slowly, barely looking at him.

“I am sorry,” Finëar whispered.

Iarûr was dumbfounded. For the first time, he seemed at a loss for words.

“This is not the end of it,” I asked.

“No, Orothôn,” Iarûr said. “This is the beginning.”

Quickly, I made my way out of the library and toward the Great Hall. There were courtiers milling within the corridors whispering among themselves along the way. I saw little in their faces of the tales that were told as they all seemed to have heard something different.

“I see you have heard what has happened,” Êlengolas said as he approached me. “So Súlwë was right.”

“What did Thingol say,” I asked.

“To the court, very little,” he answered. “I am not privy to the king’s discussions beyond those four walls but whatever he said to his kin was not taken as well as they expected.”

“What little did he say, then,” I asked.

“We are not to speak of them in his presence,” Êlengolas answered. “Then he left us. He was angrier than I have ever seen him.”

“I am sure he was.”

“The Queen was none too happy, either.”

“Of course,” I said. “Why would she be?”

“She is a Maiar,” he whispered. “She knows far more than even the stars in the sky.“–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 7-9-2019

Note to @staff: If you naked people, you are looking at a weird Rorschach test. There are no people in the photo.

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 VI: The Second Awakening (Pt. II)

As we entered the gates, the court ceased its duties as they looked upon us—especially the elegant beauty of Galadriel. Amdir had gone ahead to send word to King Thingol of their guests. We approached the throne just as Amdir returned with the king with Daeron at his side.

“Finrod, son of Finarfin,” King Thingol said. “Welcome to Doriath.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Finrod answered. “Your generosity has preceded you.”

King Thingol smiled. He motioned to Finrod and his family to follow him away. When they had left, Mîrwen and Nimeithel approached us.

“Who were they,” Mîrwen asked.

“They come to us from Mithrim,” I said.

“They are the siblings of Angrod,” Oropher added. “I trust they all remain with us for a time.”

“The lady is quite lovely,” Nimeithel said.

“Quite,” I answered. “Lovely but peculiar.”

“Let us be on our way, Nimeithel,” Mîrwen said. “We must help prepare the Queen for tonight.”

Mîrwen kissed me and they were on their way. Súlwë looked on—his face tense.

“I need to find Êlengolas,” I said. “I shall leave you to your duties.”

Oropher, Súlwë, Eldôr, and Amdir nodded. I left them knowing where I would find Êlengolas. He was with Mablung and Beleg learning about Legolas.

“You are from Valinor,” I heard Êlengolas ask as I entered the hall outside the throne room.

“I am,” Legolas answered. His confidence was as crisp as his striking gray eyes and long golden hair.

“Are there others as you,” Êlengolas queried again.

“There is,” Legolas said. “He is called Glorfindel. From the House of the Golden Flower.”

I could see by Êlengolas’ expression I needed to interrupt.

“I am Orothôn,” I said quickly, greeting our new guest. “We met earlier.”

“It is a pleasure,” Legolas answered.

“How long will you be with us,” I asked.

“For as long as we are welcomed,” he said. “No longer.”

I thought his answer sounded unusual but I said nothing.

“Êlengolas, may I have a word?”

He followed me around a corner.

“The House of the Golden Flower,” he finally said laughing.

“You know our visitors are kin to the King,” I asked.

“Are they from the House of the Golden Flower?”

I hit his arm hard.

“What?”

“The ones he guards are kin to the King. They come from Mithrim.”

“They came from Valinor,” he said. “Why are these elves leaving the home we should be living in?”

“It is a long story,” I began. “I will speak of it later. Meanwhile, I expect you to mind your manners.”

Êlengolas glared at me.

“Orothôn, please,” he started. “I am not a child. Your royal duties do not require that you play nursemaid to me.”

“Only when Iarûr is absent,” I said, smiling.

“You know something,” he said.

“I do, but as I said before, I will speak of it later.”

“After dinner,” he said. He took his leave. I stood there thinking to myself as an uneasy feeling came over me. I went to my chambers to prepare for the evening.

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

When we were in the Great Hall awaiting the entrance of the King and Queen, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Everyone was in their place—some were quietly chatting amongst themselves. Soon, the sound of music filled the hall and King Thingol, Queen Melian, their daughter Lúthien entered with Finrod, Orodreth, Aegnor, and Galadriel. It was then that Celeborn became enamored. It was hard not to notice as his face was glowing brighter than the lanterns in the room.

When everyone was seated, dinner was served. On this night, there were more delights than usual and everyone took advantage. Things were going well and my mind was put at ease. The celebration went on late into the night.

As promised, after dinner, I found Êlengolas and under the light of the moon. I told him all that I knew—from Nimernil to the coming of Finrod.

“Well,” he said when I finished. “That is quite a tale. Why did you not tell me this before?”

“I was sworn to secrecy.”

“Orothôn.“

“I did not know where to begin,” I said. “It was not until Finrod came that everything Súlwë said made sense.”

“When King Thingol learns of this, it will not go well.”

“You will say nothing,” I said.

“I do not have to say anything,” Êlengolas said. “I trust someone will say it to him.”

“Who would dare tell the King of such slaughter upon his brother’s house?”

“My guess would be someone from his brother’s house.”

“I do not think Súlwë will be the one to tell him,” I said. “He does not want to risk his identity to be revealed.”

“I do not believe he will be the one,” Êlengolas said pensively. “Love will make anyone tell secrets and truths.”

“Love,” I asked. “What has love to do with this?”

“I know you saw Celeborn as he looked upon the Lady Galadriel,” he began. “Did you notice how she looked upon him?”

“No,” I answered.

“It is for no one to say but her,” he said. “She will speak when her heart is ready. I do worry, though.”

“Worry?”

“What a burden to bear for ambition. Olwë is her mother’s father. What could be worth more than the life of your own kin?”

I said nothing. When he was wise, Êlengolas could make me think deeper on things. I could not imagine the guilt these elves would carry for eternity. On our way back to the palace, we happened upon Celeborn with Galadriel. They were very much in love. I knew Êlengolas was right—it would not be long before all would be revealed.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 6-24-2019

Note to @staff: This is a book. The photo–from a movie: See copyright information. Galadriel and Celeborn are fully-clothed. 

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 VI: The Second Awakening (Pt. I)

It did not take long for Súlwë to become accustomed to life in Menegroth. He was introduced at court under Nimernil though whenever he was with Oropher, he was called Súlwë.

The peace of the next few years gave way to the creation of the Elven Realms from the West to the Havens of Círdan to the East where Ossiriand for the fruit of life again. The darkness in the North seemed to have been silenced; as was told to us by Angrod. In the time of peace, I wondered if Oropher would start a family, but he remained more determined to wait. He knew better than I that this peace would not last.

When the sons of Fënor, Fingolfin, and Finarfin invited King Thingol to join them in the Feast of Reuniting, he decided against it even as the remaining elves of Ossiriand quickly accepted. He sent Daeron with Mablung in his stead. Iarûr told Êlengolas that it was to without complaint. Daeron did not wish to go but he was bound by duty to the king.

When they returned, Daeron spoke to no one but Thingol and the Queen. The court did not think on it long and the routine of daily life went on. On one occasion, I was with Oropher, Eldôr, Amdir, and Súlwë outside the palace. It was a crisp day—with endless blue skies; the sun beamed upon us with a subtle warmth over a gentle breeze. The waters fo the Esgalduin sparkled as the aquatic creatures created ripples made golden by the sun.

“What was it like in Alqualondë,” Amdir asked Súlwë.

“Before the battle, it was unlike anything you have ever seen,” Súlwë said. “It seems a lifetime since then. I wonder about my family. They must think I perished.”

“Did you know well the sons of Finarfin?”

“Yes, of course,” he smiled. “Their father married my sister Eärwen. There is a maiden among them. Her name is Altáriel. She was most beloved by my sister. Like her, she is the only girl of brothers.”

“She was left behind, then,” Oropher asked.

“Not her,” he answered. “She is quite headstrong. She is here with her brothers.”

“I wonder if we will ever see them,” Eldôr wondered aloud. 

“Perhaps,” Súlwë said. “If only to visit their kin. Olwë, Elwë, and Elmo remain very close if only in spirit. I heard many tales of the journey even though like my sister I was born in Eldamar.”

“You did not miss much,” I said as I remembered Cuiviénen.

“I would like to see our home across the sea one day,” Eldôr said. “Father spoke of nothing of it all my life as if he had been there. I want to know if it is real.”

Amdir hit him in the arm.

“How can it not be real,” he asked. “Súlwë just came from there.”

“Is there more than Alqualondë,” Eldôr asked Súlwë.

“Yes, of course,” he said.

“Then I wish to see if the rest of it is real.”

We continued along the way when Súlwë suddenly stopped—his face frozen in a cold stare. We looked to see a group of elves walking toward us.  As they came closer, I realized I had never seen them before. Most of them were fair-haired. Among them was the most lovely of elven maidens. 

“Who are you,” Eldôr asked, taking a defensive stand with Amdir. “You are in the kingdom of King Thingol.”

One of the elves came forward to protect the most regal of them.

“It is alright, Legolas,” he said to his guard, motioning him to stand down. 

“Many apologies for my companion. My cousin thought it best to send us with protection. I am Finrod, son of Finarfin. These are my brothers Orodreth, Aegnor, and our sister.”

“I am Altáriel,” she said. “You may call me Galadriel.”

They bowed to us.

“You are the one that sent Angrod,” I said.

“I did,” Finrod said. “He told us great things about His Majesty’s generosity.”

“How is Angrod,” I asked.

“He is well,” he answered. “He is attending to his uncle Fingolfin just now.”

“Come,” Oropher said. “I am sure His Majesty King Thingol will welcome you at Menegroth.”

Finrod smiled at us. We turned back toward Menegroth.

“It is good to see you again, Nimernil,” Galadriel whispered to Súlwë. “So far from home. My mother must miss her favorite brother.”

Súlwë said nothing. As we approached the bridge, we were met by Mablung and Beleg. Mablung greeted us.

“Finrod,” he said. “Good to see you again.”

“You as well,” Finrod answered.

“Legolas Greenleaf,” Mablung began. “What brings you  so far away from your lord?”

“Turgon wished his cousins to have safe passage into Doriath,” Legolas answered.

There seemed an uneasy tension between them. Nonetheless, the remained cordial.

“You have done well,” Beleg said. “Shall we?”

We followed them across the bridge and into the gates of Menegroth.–TKWRTBook I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 6-16-2019

Note to @staff: This is a book. The photo–from a movie: See copyright information. Duh. Galadriel is fully-clothed.

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. IV)

We entered the Great Hall to see a group of elves—all simply dressed in white. They kept their heads bowed in silence. The court around them speaking in whispers.

“When did they arrive,” I whispered to Amdir.

“Not long ago,” he answered. “They have yet to meet the king. He was made aware just as we came for you.”

At that moment, Mablung and Beleg entered with King Thingol, Queen Melian; Elmo and Orowen not far behind. 

“You come from Eldamar,” King Thingol asked as he sat on his throne beside his queen. One brave elf raised his head and stepped forward. 

“Originally,” the elf said. “I am Angrod, son of Finarfin. I come at the request of my brother Finrod in Mithrim.”

King Thingol’s expression turned pensive. After a brief silence, he spoke again.

“Son of Finarfin,” he began. “What brings you into my kingdom on this day?”

“I am quite sure as sovereign, you have long known of the deeds done in this world under darkness.“

“I am,” he nodded.

“The battles endured in the North could hardly go unnoticed by anyone, for the Noldo has triumphed against the demons come forth from Angband.”

“You numbers must be great if you if you were able to send those creatures back to whence they came.”

“Of our numbers, they account for much of your kin, King Thingol,” Angrod said. “Your dear brother is our grandfather after all.”

King Thingol nodded.

“How is he,” Queen Melian inquired.

“I have not seen him, Your Majesty,” he answered. “Not for some time.”

She nodded—her expression hiding secrets I would never know.

“We have come to dwell in Arda for now,” Angrod continued. “The sons of Fëanor and the children of his brothers find solace here despite the dangers that linger here.”

As King Thingol brought down his decree, I noticed Elmo watching a particular elf that stood behind Angrod.  His gaze was uncomfortable as the elf tried to avert his stare.

“So it shall be,” I heard Angrod say at last. “I shall tell the lords what you have told me. As a guest in your land, may it be one day, you are a guest in ours.”

King Thingol nodded and the elves bowed.

“As our guests,” King Thingol began. “Please, stay with us for now. You may leave in the morning for Mithrim.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Angrod answered.

“Iarûr, show our guest to their quarters.”

Iarûr motioned to the elves to follow him. I saw Elmo whisper to Galadhon. His son followed the elves as King Thingol and Queen Melian took their leave. As the court dispersed I could not help but wonder who the elf was the held Elmo’s fascination.

“Father,” Oropher began, breaking my thoughts. “I am going to attend to my wife. I will see you and mother for dinner.”

“Of course,” I said smiling.

He walked away and I found my mind wandering again. I decided I should find Mîrwen and went straight to our room. When I entered, I found Mîrwen already prepared for dinner.

“I did not see you at court,” I said.

“I was not there,” she said. “I was attending to other duties.”

“So you already knew about the elves from Mithrim?”

“Yes,” she said cheerfully. “You need to prepare for dinner. I shall call for the servants.”

As she walked toward the chamber bell, I stopped her.

“Who is the elf that your father was staring at?”

“I do not know,” she said. “I was not at court.”

“Mîrwen,” I began.

“What,” she asked.

I looked at her sternly.

“He is a son of Olwë,” she said. “His name is Nimernil.”

Olwë—a name I had not heard in a lifetime. I found myself confused.

“I do not understand,” I said. “Why would he be here?

“That, dear husband, I do not know.”

She went to ring the bell.

“Say not a word to anyone.”

Before I could ask another question, the dressers were upon me. I tried to put the events of the day behind me. We dined with little concern about anything. Nothing was amiss–save for the presence of the mysterious Nimernil. Angrod sat with King Thingol and Elmo—their conversation appeared as reminiscing. When dinner was done, I prepared to retire with Mîrwen when Orowen came to us.

“Orothôn,” she began. “Elmo seeks your company.”

“Where is he,” I asked.

“I do not know, but Galathil will take you to him.”

I looked to see him standing with Galadhon. Immediately, I knew it was about Nimernil. I went to them quickly.

“Take me to Elmo,” I said.

“This is why you should never tell our sister anything,” Galadhon teased. “She tells her husband.”

Galathil cut his eye at him and motioned for us to follow. When we reached an empty room below the Throne Room beside the armory, I noticed Elmo waiting with Eäros. He was looking far better than he had before the wars had begun. When we were alone, out of the darkness stepped the elf from before. He was as tall as elves are—his golden hair flowing past his shoulders. He looked at us—his grey eyes far less restless than they were in court.

“Are you whom they call Nimernil,” I asked.

For the first time, this elf smiled and laughed softly.

“That is what they call me, but it is not my name,” he answered. “I am Súlwë, the youngest son of Olwë.”

‘Why are you here,” Galadhon asked.

“I took leave from Alqualondë without my father’s knowledge. I had to know what was so precious in this world that would cause such destruction in the other.”

“Destruction,” Galadhon asked.

“There was an uprising,” he said, solemnly. “Let by Fëanor, son of Finwë. I know nothing of the circumstances. I just know our kin in Alqualondë suffered greatly.”

“My brother,” Elmo gasped. “Is he…?”

“No,” Súlwë answered. “He lives. But the price we paid was indeed enormous. I followed the elves out of our homeland. Those that did not take our ships from the Havens came across the Helcaraxë. It was these I followed from Araman.”

Elmo slowly took a seat on a bench in shock.

“That must have been horrible,” Galathil said.

“There were many that died on the way,” Súlwë said, his voice cracking as he tried to hide his sadness. “For those who made it, not even the rising of the Daystar could bring them light.”

We stood in silence; our voices could not find the words.

“You must go back,” I said finally.

“Impossible,” Súlwë said curtly. “Those who left are in exile. Though my hands are clean, I am afraid I am as well. What is left of home for me was lain to waste.”

“Stay with us,” Eäros said.

“Who knows of your true identity,” Elmo asked, distraught.

“No one,” Súlwë answered.

“Very well,” Elmo said calmly. “You may stay in my household but when a way is made, you will return to Olwë. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Uncle,” Súlwë answered.

Elmo nodded as he looked at me.  

“He will stay with you, Orothôn. Oropher is the only I know that can keep a secret.”

“I beg your pardon, Father,” Galadhon said. “I am offended.”

“Do not be,” Elmo said. “Whatever you say to Celebriel she will keep from your mother. Same for Nárwen and Níndi. I take my leave.”

Elmo left with his sons close behind. I looked as Súlwë.
“Welcome to Menegroth,” I said.–TKWRTBook I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 6-11-2019

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.

Note to @staff: This is a book. The photo–from a movie: See copyright information. Duh.