The Love of Thranduil and Êlúriel

Chapter XXIX: (EXT) The Departure to Mithlond

“The afternoon before I was to leave, I found Thûlë in the gardens with Eärluin and Auríel showing them things sleight of hand. They were so taken by the magic neither of them noticed I was there.

“Thûlë,” I said. “Might I have a moment of your time?”

“Yes, of course,” he said. “Stay right there, I will return.”

The girls clapped and spoke among themselves as Thûlë walked with me a short distance.

“What is it, Thranduil,” he asked.

“We are leaving at the fall of twilight tomorrow,” I began.

“You have decided to make the journey,” he said smiling.

“Yes,” I stammered. “Is it far?”

“Mithlond,” he asked. “Well, it will take some time to get there.”

“No, I meant, Aman.”

His eyes seemed to dance at the sound of that and he smiled.

“I cannot say,” he began. “For the journey is different for everyone. Like everything in this world, that world is very much the same.”

“It is the same,” I pondered. “How so?”

“It exists.”

I could tell by his face that I was as dumbfounded as I thought.

“Thranduil,” he began gingerly. “For as long as I have lived and for all that I have seen the only thing I have seen once was what I have always seen. Every day of your life you saw the same thing without realizing that each day everything changed. Nothing in this world or the next remains the same. Forever can last a moment and a moment forever. Immortality is the art of living as long as one can to do what one will in a world that changes right before our eyes. We do not see it change because we are living.”

With that, he left me thinking about what he said as he returned to perform for Eärluin and Auríel. I made my way back into the palace in a fog of comprehension. I thought all day and into the night—I barely ate a thing at dinner and sound did not seem to permeate my thoughts. 

Finally, when all had fallen silent, I realized I was alone at the table of the dining hall. I made my way to my chambers. Êlúriel was in her night gown standing at my mirror combing her hair.

“Thranduil, are you ill,” she asked. “You have been acting strangely all day.”

“I was just thinking,” I said.

“About what,” she asked putting her comb away. “Have you changed your mind about leaving?”

“No,” I said, pulling her close to me. “I do not want to live anywhere you are not. Not in life nor in death.”

“What has changed you this night,” she asked smiling.

“Nothing has changed,” I said, kissing her lips. “But nothing is the same except my love for you.”

She took my hand and led me to our bed where we spent our last night together for what would be one moment in forever I would never forget.

As night began to fall the following evening, I mounted my horse and paused for a moment. Êlúriel sat patiently upon her horse quietly as did the rest of our family. We were leaving this world never to return. Even as there had been pain, there were countless joys.

“Shall we begin,” Thûlë asked.

I nodded and for the last time, I motioned to lead my kingdom to Mithlond. The night started to unveil the stars that shone down from cloudless skies. The journey that have began our ancestors would end with us. I had only learned that we were the last of our kin to depart for Aman.

As we rode throughout the night, I could not help but to notice the world I was born into in a light far different that I could remember. The Misty Mountains seemed far greater beneath the stars as their peaks seemed to touch the heavens above them.

Through forests and across hills through valleys, our journey seemed to leave the younger of our elves spellbound. I had not known the world beyond the Rhovanion until I left for war. To see as I left it seemed disappointing as it was as beautiful as Eryn Lasgalen.

On the last night before we were to reach Mithlond, several elves took our horses to set them free. We would walk the rest of the way into the port. It took some time to console Tárimë as her horse was a gift from me.

I walked a distance from camp watching the sun slowly disappear beneath the horizon. I wondered how life would be in Aman. I thought of how much time had passed since I had seen my mother.

“Forever has never been so close as it is now,” Elranduil said as he approached. “Just over that horizon is where it lies.”

“Are you afraid,” I asked. “To go beyond this world we have only heard about in elven lore. How do we know there is anything out there waiting for us? What if nothing is there and we came so far for nought?”

“Why would you think such a thing,” he asked. “Of course there is something out there beyond the sea. Thûlë came from there, remember. You think we came all this way to fall off the edge of the Earth?”

“Of course not, Elranduil,” I said nervously. “What if what is out there is not the paradise we were told it was?”

“Even now, you are still awaiting something that will never be or never was as father would say.”

“Why are you so sure of what is there,” I asked.

“Why are you so afraid of what is there,” he asked.

I thought about his words for a moment. What was I afraid of? The unknown, perhaps. Fear of looking back and seeing my existence turned to fable told by humans to put their children to sleep. 

What would become of the kingdom we left behind as the years would turn it to nothing more than relics of a world long since past. Worse, it could be lost as it faded into nature and swallowed by the earth to never be discovered.

“There will be nothing of us left, Elranduil,” I said. “Nothing we have done through the centuries will exist no more. We will be forgotten as if we never lived.”

“Not a creature in this world that ever lived was left forgotten,” he said. “They become part of an endless tale that is told and retold from one generation to the next. For each generation there is added shadings and what have you, but underneath the myth lies a grain of truth. That is what will be remembered.”

I must have had a look of wonderment because Elranduil had a great smile on his face.

“When did you become so wise?”

“I always have been wise,” he said. “You never listen to me.”

“For good reason quite often,” I answered.

“Thranduil, whatever lies beyond the horizon you will not be going there alone,” he said. “All of us will see what you will see. For better or worse, we will be together.”

I knew he was right. I always wondered about the unknown whether in fear or curiosity. Now, I would face it myself.

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

When dawn came, everyone followed Thûlë the rest of the way to Mithlond. The closer we came, the more anxious I became. Once we entered the city, the sun had not yet started its descent. There was one grand ship—large enough for everyone. Tarthôn smiled when he saw it.

“I am looking forward to going home,” he said.

I said nothing as elves began to board. I began to look around Mithlond. The grand halls were empty—not a soul was left. We were truly the last to leave this world.

“You are looking for me, are you not,” a voice asked. I turned to see Êlenuil. “I was,” I said. “You have kept your word.”

“I have but I also wanted to see if you would come with us,” he said.

“You thought I would stay behind,” I asked.

“Most everyone thought as much,” he said. “But I see Êlúriel has convinced you to come.” 

“Time convinced me,” I began. “I have nothing but time and those I love to spend it with. Eryn Galen is in my heart where it will never leave. I have forever to remember all that it was to me.”

“So it is the same with Súlelenth,” he said. “She is where she always has been since the day we met.”

“Your children are on board,” I said. “As well as the rest of your family. Shall we go?”

Êlenuil nodded and we walked on board together. Êlúriel stood looking at me. She kissed me.

“Let us go,” she said.

I smiled and helped her on to the ship and stepped in after. When the bridge was raised and the sails unfurled in the gentle breeze, the ship slowly began it’s journey toward the setting sun into eternity.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-22-17

**END OF BOOK II**

Chapter XXVIII (EXT): The Arrival of Thûlë

“That evening, there was a grand feast in the dining hall to celebrate Legolas’ safe return home. It had been a long time since my household felt whole again as the servants served us the freshest delights prepared for this occasion. Nenduîl and Aranduil sat as close to Legolas and Gimli as they could; eagerly asking them about their adventures. Eärluin and Auríel sat near their brothers whispering to one another and giggling at their excitement. Eluriel spent her time speaking with Isilriel, Nenloth, Ardúin and Ëariâth. The hall was filled with life as it was when I was young and my father was king. Though I sat in his place, I felt as I had before that the wars took so much from our kingdom.

“Thinking again,” Nimlos said leaning across Aramír. “You should be listening to Legolas. He’s had quite the adventure.”

“I will speak with him later,” I said. “As it is, he has the ear of Nenduîl and Aranduil.”

“They have been following him all day,” Aramír said. “He rather enjoys having an audience.”

“Just like his mother,” Nimlos said. “I remember she would tell me and Nenloth about adventures when we were young, though hers came from her imagination as though they were real.”

I laughed softly as I watched Êlúriel. Seemed not long ago she was telling me of her childhood or spinning a tale about our life together. As I watched Legolas and Gimli from a distance, their engagement with the children of the court brought memories of Êlúriel in the garden with children after she came into Eryn Galen. It was a sad but pleasant thought.

“If you will pardon me,” I said, rising. 

The room fell quiet and the court stood to bow to me. Êlúriel looked concern as I left the dining hall and made my way to the garden. It was a calm evening—nothing but the song of the night sung by the nocturnal chants of the woodlands creatures large and small.

Light of dim lanterns cast shadows down the winding paths as I sat amidst them on a bench deep in thought. It had been so long since I had been accustomed to a peaceful night I wondered what it was like in other places across the world.

“Ada,” a voice said. “Is something the matter?”

It was Legolas. I shook my head.

“Nothing,” I said. “Just found myself wanting to think. Why are you here?”

“For the same reason,” he said sitting beside me. “So much has come about, there has hardly been time to own's self. Now that I am home for a time, I want to remember how it was before I leave again.”

“You are leaving,” I asked. “You have just arrived.”

“Not quite yet, Ada,” he said smiling. “You will have me for a time. Though I hardly think you would notice with Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin at your side.”

“They are growing up,” I said. “Soon they will not need me as they once did.”

“That is not true,” he said. “They will always need you. I still need you. Time has changed many things, but the heart is not one of them.”

“I suppose you will accompany Gimli to Erebor to see his father,” I began. “I know Glóin will want to see his son as much as I wanted to see mine.”

“Of course,” he answered. “Tarthôn wishes to join me, if he may.”

I nodded. It was good to see my sons doing things together once more.

“Gimli was given sovereign over Aglarond and wishes to lead his people there to settle. I wish to see the world.”

“You were always the wandering kind,” I said. “You know I will not stand in your way. It is your fate and yours alone. Mine is here with my people. It always has been and always will be.”

“For now, just be my father,” he said.

“I will forever be your father no matter where you are,” I said. “I am glad for that.”

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

Legolas and Gimli remained with us for a week before they set out for Erebor with Tarthôn. There plan was to stay the same amount of time there before leading dwarves through the Rhovanion and on to Aglarond. It seemed a fleeting moment I had my son again, but I had no fear for him now. The world was born anew and many would go seeking what there was to see of it.

I thought many days on what Galadriel said to me. I knew what she what she meant. I had to callings now—both struggling within for dominance. Should I stay in my kingdom and conquer time or make the journey my ancestors never completed into the west. My time in this world was coming to an end but to which end would it come?

I felt there was time enough to think on this; I felt a much better use of my days was to spent with Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin. I had given them each a horse of their own—not realizing they had grown near the height of Legolas at that age. They were no longer children.

One day, I had decided to go riding with them along with Aranduil and Auríel. Nearly my height now, the boys had begun to look much like true Sindarinwa princes. We had traveled quite a distance—stopping only for Tárimë to pick flowers for her chambers.

When we returned to the stables, we dismounted and walked toward the palace.

“Ada,” Tárimë began. “What do you think of Fëandil?”

“You mean the son of Arawë,” I asked attempting to remember him. “Why do you ask?”

“She has eyes for him,” Nenduîl said teasing his sister. “It is no secret to anyone.”

“Especially to Grandfather,” Aranduil added. “I am surprised he has not said anything to you.”

“Tarthôn has been away often, Aranduil,” I answered. “He only returned from Gondor recently. Is it true, Tárimë? Are you fond of this young elf.”

“No, Ada” she lied. “That is preposterous, Ada. He is as troublesome as these two.”

“I think it is a good match for my sister,” Eärluin said.

“Do not listen to my brother, Tárimë,” Auríel said. “He has eyes for Êldúlin.”

“I do not not, Auríel,” Aranduil said, his face flushed as Eärluin giggled.

“I know you better, Tárimë,” I said. “You have never been one to hide your emotions from anyone.”

“His face does not displease me,” she said giving her brother a stern glare. “I suppose he is adequate.”

“Adequate,” I said. “If you think he is adequate, then I suppose I should think so as well. Whenever you find him more than adequate, tell me so I may speak with him.”

Aranduil and Nenduîl could not help themselves but to laugh all the way to the front gates when we were met by Ëarmîr.

“Go your way,” I said to them. “Ëarmîr wishes word with me.”

They continued on their way as I approached Ëarmîr.

“Someone wishes an audience with Your Majesties,” he said to me. “Queen Êlúriel has met with him.”

“Why has Fëaluin sent you to tell me,” I asked.

“I come to you on my own,” he said. “Fëaluin awaits in council.”

We entered the palace and made our way to the throne room. I noticed a tall creature standing quietly in the center of the room with Êlúriel. I noticed he wore the long robe of a wizard—of the Istari—the color of grey. He had long hair the color of silver with withering skin the color of a winter sky. He approached me, his eyes a deep hue of sky at the end of day.

“Do I know you,” I asked. “You remind me of someone.”

“Mithrandir, perhaps,” he said. “He is no longer the Grey Wanderer as he is known as The White Rider or Gandalf the White if you wish.”

“Who are you,” I asked.

“Thûlë,” he answered, “And I have come quite a long way to see you,” he said. “From Mithlond.”

“May I ask why you have come?”

“As I have said,” he answered with a smile. “I have come to see you.”

“Why have you come to see me,” I asked.

“It was time,” he answered.

“It is time, Thranduil,” Êlúriel said softly, looking down.

I looked around the court—it had grown shallow and empty. It had become a shell of its former self. I looked to Ëarmîr who stood quietly next to Fëaluin.

“I know,” I said. “I know why you are here.”

“Oh, yes, Thranduil,” he began smiling. “I have heard much about you. You are beyond lore. You are of the ages that this world has seen over centuries. I arrived with Mithrandir in the Second Age and remained in the Havens and watched him sail into the west. He said I should await you there, but I knew I would remain there for another age should I do such a thing, so I came to you.”

“You saw my son, then,” I said. “Legolas?”

“Indeed. He left with a certain dwarf I believe. Gimli, son of Glóin.”

“Did he say anything,” I asked. I was hoping he did not say something that would touch my heart or break it for the mention of his name brought to me every moment I had with him since the day he was born.

“Yes, Thranduil,” he said smiling. “Peda aranon od Eryn Lasgalen, adar nîn, Thranduil Tárisil Oropherion, ernil od Eryn Lasgalen tolant na vedui sí Mithlond.”

I knew there were tears in my eyes but I did not care. My son was safe and I missed him greatly.

“I am afraid I have no words,” I said. “I miss my son.”

“He misses his father,” he said.

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

“Until it is time for me to depart, which will be in five days. I hope that I will not leave this place alone.”

I motioned to Fëaluin.

“Please escort Thûlë to where he may rest his head,” I said.

Fëaluin led him away. Before I could say a word to Ëarmîr, I turned to see Nenduîl.

“Ada,” he said smiling. “Are we leaving Eryn Lasgalen?”  

I looked to see Tárimë as well. Nenduîl looked much like me as Tárimë looked much like Êlúriel. I did not know the answer to his question. I was numbed at the thought of leaving.

“Something the matter,” Tárimë asked. “You are not yourself.”

“I am not myself, Tárimë,” I said. “Go to the gardens, I will come to you later. I must have a word with Ëarmîr."

They left quickly, giddy with anticipation of seeing me again.

“Galathil left you here to make sure that I would leave for Mithlond.”

“Yes,” Ëarmîr said softly. “You would not leave otherwise.”

“How would anyone know what is in my heart or my mind,” I said as anger and sadness began to rise to the surface.

“Thranduil,” Êlúriel whispered.

“Thranduil,” Eldôr began. “Calm yourself.”

“I will not calm myself,” I said. “Do not presume you know me! Any one of you! It is my life and my choice! If I want to remain here in my kingdom.”

I stormed away toward the gardens hoping Nenduîl and Tárimë would bring me peace as they often would. I felt a light breeze carrying the scent of Êlúriel. I felt my heart fill with joy for the first time since Legolas had returned to me after the war. I stopped at the railing and began to remember my youth. My friends.

“There is nothing here for us anymore,” Êlúriel said from behind. “Even our son has sailed on. Of all the things to fear, why would this be one of them?"

I saw Eldôr approaching us from the court calmly.

“I will speak with him, Êlúriel,” I heard him say. 

She nodded and went into the palace. In that moment, I longed to follow her, but I could not find the strength.

“They have grown into beautiful elves,” Eldôr mused. “I know what you are thinking, Thranduil. I have known you since you came into this world.”

“I know, Uncle,” I said. “Perhaps that was the reason for your return."

“What will you have us to do,” he asked quietly.

I never let the twins out of my sight. I seemed hypnotized by their frolicking.

“Send forth the rest of our people into the Havens and sail home,” I said. “The time as come. Êlúriel, Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin will sail. I will sail with you.”

We said nothing more as we watched the last of the elven children to grow up in Endor. and led them away to the old pool where I once played in my childhood. I knew I would have to tell Nenduîl and Tárimë that we were going home.

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

That evening, I requested Ëarmîr to send the children to my chambers. Eldôr had the court ready themselves to leave Eryn Lasgalen forever. With hurried excitement, what was left of the elves of the last elven kingdom prepared for the journey home.

When the familiar knock came to the door, I took a deep breath.

“Enter,” I said.

Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin came in slowly—uncertain what was about to happen.

“Please, have a seat,” I said. They sat on the edge of my bed in unison; their eyes focused on me.

“Are we leaving Eryn Lasgalen, Ada,” Tárimë asked.

“Yes,” I said. “We are leaving and we will never return.”

“Never,” Nenduîl asked. “Why can we not return home?”

“We are going to a new home,” I said. “Far away from this world. It is a place of eternal youth and beauty where we will live forever.”

“We do that here,” Eärluin said. “Why can we not do that here?”

“Because we are elves,” I said. “Unlike any other creatures we are. Our time here must end so the rest of this world may continue. I know you will miss Eryn Lasgalen. I will miss it as well because like you it is the only home I have ever known but where we go will be far more beautiful.”

“Where you go, we will go, Ada,” Nenduîl said.

“It will fine,” Eärluin said.

“We love you, Ada,” Tárimë said.

“I love you, too,” I said.

I embraced them, my heart heavy with the thought of leaving but glad knowing I will be with them for all eternity. When I released them, they were smiling.

“Now, go prepare yourselves. We leave at week’s end.”

They nodded and left me alone. I looked around my chambers remembering every moment of my life that took place within its walls. Memories were the only thing I could take with me—they were all that I would need.

“Is that why you are afraid to leave,” Êlúriel said as she came into the room.

“What other reason is there,” I asked. “I was born here. We met here and married here. Our children were born here.”

She walked over to me and poked me in the chest.

“That is where home is,” she said. “If there were no walls, we would still have a home because home is where love is. You carry that everywhere.”

I smiled at her. I knew she was right. I nodded and embraced her. I began to feel better knowing she would be by my side when I had to leave everything I had ever known forever.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-22-17

Chapter XXVII (EXT): Mirkwood to Eryn Lasgalen/Legolas’ Return

“I emerged from my tent at dawn to the sound I had not heard for centuries it seemed—birds chirping melodiously. Nearby, there were woodland creatures roaming beneath the forest tress softly swaying in unison as a gentle breeze blew through their branches. The sky began to lighten as the sun rose; it was a vibrant blue I could almost touch.

Evil was gone. I could not help but remember the years that had come before—so many years of darkness intermingled with moments of joy swirling around times of anguish. I had come out of the shadows to see the dawn of the new age father had said I would.

“Thranduil, son of Oropher,” I heard a voice say beside me. It was Galathil.

“Galathil, son of Galadhon,” I answered. “So this is the day our fathers wished to see.”

“Yes,” he said. “And yet, it comes as every day before it—in a whisper too quiet for us to hear. Perhaps that is how time wishes it to be. To allow us to appreciate all that is given and all that is lost.”

“I have spent much of my life fighting time as much as evil,” I said. “I have never known what it would like not to fight something.”

“I am sure you will not miss it,” he said. “You will not forget it, but you will not miss it.”

“I know one day, I will forget,” Celeborn said as he walked toward us with Ëarmîr. “I look forward to that day with great expectation. For now, I look forward to our return to your palace, Thranduil. Galadriel is waiting.”

“I must apologize to you, Celeborn,” I said as I saw Eldôr approaching with Elranduil. “I did not prepare her for the horrors of my halls.”

“What horrors,” Celeborn asked concerned.

“Five little elven children, I am afraid,” Elranduil said smiling. “They are rather precocious. They seemed to have inherited such behavior from me, right dear cousin?”

I gave him weak smile as he laughed with the others.

“I am sure they cannot be anywhere near the trouble of Elladan and Elrohir,” Celeborn said laughing. “I am sure Galadriel is fine, though I cannot promise the same for the children.”

As we laughed together I noticed Êlenuil with his brother Elendôr. He had a grey horse by its reins that was saddled and prepared for a long journey.

“If you excuse me,” I said.

I walked toward them; my gait heavy as my heart. They bowed to me as I came before them.

“So you are leaving, Êlenuil,” I said. “So soon after battle?”

“I must,” he said quietly, looking at the ground. “It is for the best.”

“You do remember what I asked of you?”

“Yes, Thranduil,” he answered as he looked at me. “You have my word.”

“I will send your children to you when the time comes,” I said. “I trust you will be there to receive them.”

“I will wait for them,” he said. “You have my word.”

I felt sorry for Êlenuil for his pain was palpable. His sorrow reminded me of myself when I lost Êlúriel. I wondered if I had been too hard on him.

“Elendôr, go see to your father,” I said. “I would like a moment with your brother.”

“Yes, Thranduil,” he said bowing. We watched him walk away toward camp. I could see things were being prepared for the journey back to the palace.

“Have I been too harsh with you, Êlenuil,” I asked. “If I have, forgive me.”

“You have been nothing more than noble,” he said. “As expected a King.”

“You are my kin,” I said. “You are a prince of the realm. You returned to fight for your people. I do not know anything more noble than that.”

“Thank you,” he said smiling beneath his golden hair.

“I remember when I almost lost my wife,” I began, my mind reliving the moment again as it had for centuries. “I would be remiss if I did not tell you how it was for me.”

“There is no need for you to remember such pain,” he said.

“I have never forgotten,” I said. “I have lived every day with that pain. There is not a moment I do not think how I almost lost her. I cannot fathom what it must feel like to lose such a great love as you have. Forgive me.”

I could tell by Êlenuil’s expression that my face had fallen grave. I felt the tears falling down my cheek as they had the day I held Êlúriel’s body in my arms—thinking I had lost her.

“I do not deserve her,” I said. “She is too good for me, but she loves me as if I were. If she had died that day, I know she would not have wanted me to leave our children without a father nor a kingdom without a king. I know how you long for Súlelenth, Êlenuil.”

Êlenuil was looking at me, his face serene. He had a smile on his face—one I had not seen since his youth.

“I know,” he said. “That is why I left Nenduîl and Tárimë with you.”

“What are you saying,” I asked trying to compose myself rather poorly. “I do not understand.”

“When they were born, grandfather remarked how much they reminded him of you and the Queen,” he said. “Her mother would tell her stories when she was a child about your love. When she died, I could not look at my children not because I did not love them. It was not because I lost their mother, though I loved her with all my heart. I knew she was mortal and would have died as mortals will. I could not look at them because they were so close and reminded me of you and Queen Êlúriel.”

I had regain some composure as I found myself wanting to understand what Êlenuil was trying to say.

“I am afraid you have lost me,” I said.

“I know they bring you much joy,” he said nearly laughing. “No matter how hard you try to show otherwise. You are the worst liar in all of Arda, you realize.”

“I am not,” I said defiantly.

“They were born out of love aptly named for a love everlasting.”

I was at a loss for words or thoughts.

“And Eärluin,” I asked. “She should know who her father is.”

"She reminds me too much of Súlelenth,” he said. “They adore you both. “I could not bare to lose their love.”

“You are their father,” I said. “How could they not love you?”

“I know they love me,” he said. “I love them very much. But they are a comfort to you. As much a gift to you as they were to me. I think it was for you they were born. They know their purpose and I know mine,” Êlenuil said smiling. “I will keep my word to you.”

We looked at each other—seemingly knowing what the other felt. He embraced me and I could not help but return it.

“Thank you for the mithril,” he whispered, releasing me from his embrace. He mounted his horse and rode toward the west as he had done once before. I watched him until I could not see him.

“Thranduil,” I heard someone say. I looked to see Elranduil standing next to me. “Something the matter?”

“No,” I said. “I was just seeing Êlenuil on his way.”

“We await you to lead us home,” he said. “Unless there is a reason you wish us to remain here and watch you stare at trees.”

I grinned at him—nearly laughing at myself. I nodded and we headed toward camp. Seeing the elves of Mirkwood and Lothlórien together brought back memories of the last time we were together. This time, we were not riding off to war; we were riding home victorious.

I mounted my horse and looked around to see elven soldiers proudly awaiting my command.  At my side waited Celeborn smiling serenely.

“Shall we,” he asked.

I smiled in return, motioned to move forward. As our procession began it’s slow move home, I looked back at the smoldering ruins of what was once Dol Guldur. Though it would be a long time before it would once again resemble Amon Lanc, the darkness was gone from my kingdom forever.

For a time, we traveled in silence—each of us savoring the victory filled the air and fell over the whole of Arda. As we made our way closer to the palace, a faint sound of cheers was heard.

“Word still travels quickly among our people,” Celeborn remarked.

“It is just as well,” I said. “We return victorious as I told Galadriel we would.”

“Seems Galadriel is not the only one with the gift of foresight,” he said.

“Not so much foreseen as promised, Celeborn.”

As we came to the path leading to the bridge, my kingdom welcomed us with glorious fanfare. Under a shower of flower petals. I could see my court waiting for us joyfully on the bridge. Before them, Galadriel stood with Isilriel alongside Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin. As we stopped, I dismounted as they came running to me.

“Ada,” they squealed as I knelt down to embrace them.

“You are home,” Tárimë said.

“Yes, I am,” I answered, as I noticed they were dressed in their finest court attire. “And how did you manage to greet me dressed so elegantly?”

“Lady Galadriel,” Nenduîl said pouting. “She told us it would please you.”

“It is itchy, Ada,” Eärluin said, scratching her neck.

“I am well pleased,” I said as I saw Galadriel approaching as Celeborn and the rest of the princes began to great their loved ones. I stood up and bowed to her.

“You must be weary,” she said embracing Celeborn. “Let our warriors take their rest before we return home, if they may, Thranduil.”

“Of course,” I said. “Fëaluin, prepare the court for celebration if you will.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said smiling, his wife Linurial in his arms. “It would be my pleasure.”

As everyone made their way into the palace, I remained behind with Nenduîl and Tárimë.

“Tell me, children,” I began. “Did you mind yourselves while I was away?”

“I did,” Tárimë said. “I cannot say the same for my brother.”

“I was well-behaved,” Nenduîl said defensively. “Much more than my sister.”

“If I were to ask Galadriel, what would she say to me?”

There was a moment of silence and I could not help myself but to laugh.

“I was very good,” Eärluin said. “Nana said so.”

“Where is Nana,” I asked, worried.

“She is waiting for you inside,” Tárimë said. “She said she wanted to see you alone.”

Curious, I entered the palace behind them. I was happy to home and wanted to see Êlúriel.

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

Inside, the children went their way as I made my way into my study where waited the many faces of my lifetime. To thunderous applause I was received. I approached Celeborn as he stood beside Galathil, Eärmîr, Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin. We stood for a moment looking at one another as the praise subsided. It was then that we embraced one another. Cheers returned again—the sound rising louder than the falls behind us.

“Let no more time fall between us now that darkness has fallen from the rest of our days,” I said. “It is a day I never thought I would see but for my father I am his eyes from the grave. He would be proud.”

“Yes, he would, Thranduil,” Celeborn said. “Tonight we celebrate and tomorrow you will face the world as King of Eryn Lasgalen.”

“What,” I said taken aback. “What are you saying?”

Celeborn smiled as Galathil patted me on the shoulder.

“You were never one to take anything without bewilderment,” Galathil said. “Or so I have been told.”

“Yes, I am afraid my cousin is often taken aback,” I heard Elranduil say as he approached. “Good news or bad, it does take him a moment to find the words to say anything.”

“Well, then. He has the rest of the evening to find his words,” Celeborn said. “In the meantime, I believe your court is being prepared for celebration and I shall take my leave to do likewise.”

I never heard the study empty nor had I realized I had regained my kingdom. It was a moment I would never forget—after so long under the curse of Sauron, I had come full circle to see my kingdom through sorrow and pain to joy and peace.

For as long as there is a kingdom to rule, you will. My father’s words rang true—as I heard them spoken once more from my heart.

“Thranduil,” I heard my name called. I turned to see Nimlos.

“Yes,” I asked. “What is it?”

“Time to get ready for the celebration,” he said. “You are not going like that, are you?”

I looked down at myself. I was still in my armor—stained with dirt and the dried blood of orcs.

“I could use a change of wardrobe,” I answered. “And a bath."

I went to my bath and noticed I was alone. I looked forward to having a moment to myself. After my armor was removed, my dressers left to prepare my wardrobe for the evening. Once in the bath, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and felt myself release all the tension of the day. Though exhausted, I wondered where Êlúriel was as I had yet to see her.

“You never cease to amaze me,” I heard a voice say to me.

“Elranduil,” I answered. “Who allowed you in here?”

“Amusing, Thranduil,” he answered. I opened one eye to see him sitting nearby in his robe and fresh from his bath. “I wanted to see to your well-being.”

“What do you want,” I asked.

“Not a thing,” he answered. “Though father wanted to know how you were. You seemed beyond his reach for a moment What is on your mind?”

“I am in need of rest is all,” I answered as I closed my eye. “Nothing more. Uncle mustn’t worry himself although I am quite sure it is you that would like to know more.”

“No,” he said. “Though your son wishes to speak with you before tonight’s celebration.”

I opened my eyes and sat up.

“Tarthôn,” I asked. “Is something the matter?”

“Not at all,” Elranduil answered. “He is quite well. There is no hurry. He is with Ëariâth just now. He has something he wishes to tell you. He refuses to tell anyone but you.”

“I have raised him well, then,” I said reclining once more. “He knows you can never keep a secret.”

“I can so,” he said rising. “I kept many of your secrets. Is it my fault Ardúin could get them from me? She can be quite persuasive.”

“She is not persuasive, Elranduil. You are afraid of her.”

“I am not,” he began as a servant entered and bowed.

“Yes,” I asked.

“I was sent by Her Highness, Princess Ardúin,” he said quietly. “She wishes for His Highness Prince Elranduil to join her immediately.”

“Tell her I shall be with her in a moment,” Elranduil said.

“Now, Elranduil,” a voice came from across the room. It was Ardúin. I could not help but laugh.

“If you will excuse me,” Elranduil said. “My wife requires my presence.”

He hurried away with the servant. I took another moment to enjoy my solitude—closing my eyes to rest.

“You kept your word,” a voice said.

It was Êlúriel. I opened my eyes just as she had slipped into the water and glided over to me and embracing me.

“So I have,” I said, holding her. We did not say another word as we found ourselves lost in a kiss and locked in an embrace for what seemed a magical eternity. When she was done with me, she stepped out of the bath, wrapped herself her robe and rang for the servants.

“Do not be late, Thranduil,” she said, smiling.

Soon the servants arrived. I stepped out of my bath and was dried and dressed in a robe and I made my way to my room. The guards opened my door and I entered. A moment later, my dressers entered and began to prepare me for the night. I was placed in the colors of spring—rich greens with silver embroidered leaves on my coat. A knock came to my door.

“Enter,” I said as one servant began combing my hair. It was Tarthôn with Aranduil close behind.

“How’s Nana,” he asked grinning.

“You have a shadow with you, son,” I said, smiling thinking about Êlúriel.

Tarthôn turned and picked up his grandson.

“Well what do you know,” he said. “How did you come upon me, Aranduil?”

“I followed you,” he said. “I wanted to come.”

“I think he wanted to see you as much as I did,” Tarthôn said. “You look fine this evening, Ada.”

“Am I to assume Êlúriel is waiting for us?”

“She does,” he answered.

“Elranduil said you wished to tell me something.”

“Yes,” he began. “There is word from Gondor.”

“Gondor,” I asked. “What of it?”

“Legolas has survived the war,” he said. “He is there with Aragorn. I was told of it before we left Dol Guldur. It would appear Legolas sent a messenger ahead of the news.”

I turned slowly toward Tarthôn—who was straightening Aranduil’s little buttons on his robe. When he looked up, his face was smiling as brightly as my own must have been.

“This is wonderful news,” I said. “Wonderful. I have both of my sons and I could not ask for more.”

“Me,” Aranduil said angrily. “I am here too.”

“Yes,” I said. “You are here as well, Aranduil. How could I have forgotten?”

In overwhelming joy, I embraced them both. I knew I would see my sons together again some day soon.

“Let us celebrate, Ada,” Tarthôn said as he put Aranduil down. “The kingdom awaits.”

“Very well,” I said.

We left my room and entered the hall. As we approached the court room, festive spring colors dressed everything from pillar to post. Green, indigo, red, yellow and white created an aura of the forest floor. Êlúriel stood at her throne, her gown the color of mine, her crown upon her head as a halo. My court once engaged fell quiet as I took my place beside her.

“Tonight we celebrate,” I began “For the darkness that fell upon our kingdom is no more. It is a new day not only for the elves, but for all that live in every corner of this world. Peace has finally returned to the Woodland Realm.”

A roar of cheers filled the room and resounding into every crevice of the halls with a sound that for the first time was greater than the force of the waterfalls’ ever flowing. I walked down from my throne and made my way to the room above the festivities. Upon reaching the window seat, I remembered the night of my wedding—sitting with Êlúriel in a quiet moment.

I continued further up the stairs to the room where I spoke with my father many times before he died in the War of the Last Alliance. I walked over to the window and looked out over Forest River quietly flowing into Long Lake. The trees were turning black with the setting of the sun but I could see the stars beginning to peek through the eastern sky one by one.

“Ada,” I heard a child say. It was Nenduîl. I turned to see him and Tárimë standing behind me. I motioned to them to come. I noticed for the first time how much they had grown as they approached me.

“It is a beautiful night,” Tárimë said looking over the balcony. “Can we go outside now?”

“In the morning,” I said. “After the ceremony.”

“What ceremony,” Nenduîl asked looking terrified. “Do I have to dress up again?”

“Nenduîl, you are a Prince of the realm. It is proper protocol.”

“I am not fond of proper protocol,” he said leaning against me. “It is very uncomfortable.”

“I am a Princess,” Tárimë said. “I like being a Princess.”

“That is because you are a girl,” her brother said sticking his tongue out.

“Children, behave yourselves,” I said trying not to laugh. I remembered how much I did not like proper palace protocol at their age. “It will not be too long and afterward you are free to play with the other children.

“Outside,” Nenduîl asked looking up at me—eyes wide with excitement.

“Yes, outside.”

“Will you come with us,” Tárimë asked.

“I have some things to do. I am the King you realize.”

The both stood beside one another giving me their best sad and down trodden look in a rather convincing attempt at forcing my hand.

“Very well, perhaps I will join you after I am done with my duties,” I said.

Smiling they embraced me and I in return.

“We love you, Ada,” they said.

“I love you both very much,” I said, thinking about the last time I saw their father at Dol Guldur. I wondered should I tell them about Êlenuil.

“Nenduîl. Tárimë,” I heard Elranduil say. “Ardúin is looking for you. I need a word with Thranduil.”

They ran off into the darkness that had begun to surround the forest. I leaned agains the balcony once more as Elranduil joined me.

“How is the celebration,” I asked. “Am I needed?”

“It is fine, Thranduil,” he said. “You are noticeably missing but you are the king. You do what you like.”

“True,” I answered. “Why are you here?”

“I am here because I can do what I like,” he said.

“We like far too many of the same things, cousin.”

“I am afraid that runs in the family,” he said. “It would seem so does wandering away to think about all that has come to pass.”

“We have seen many things,” I began. “Some things I am glad I will never see again. There are a few things I want to see again."

“I know,” he said softly.

“Father,” I said. “I wish he were here to see this day. Come, Elranduil. Let us return to the celebration. I believe the king should see to his court.”

We began walking toward the stairs where the sound of merrymaking filled the air. I hesitated for a moment.

“If you do not wish to return, your subjects will understand,” Elranduil said.

“I wish to join them,” I said. “I realized how long it has been since we had something to celebrate. It has been too long. Far too long.”

We began our descent down to the court room when I was met by Galathil.

“Thinking again,” he asked. Elranduil nodded and went on his way.

“Of course, Galathil,” I answered. “I am the son of Oropher. Thinking is an inherited trait.”

“Father always said as much. You realize Ëarmîr reminds me of Oropher every day. His mother would be proud. I wish our sister could be here to see how he has grown.”

“War has taken many over the centuries that never should have been lost—whether by death or by choice,” I said quietly.

I gave him a pat on the back and walked through the court of bowing courtiers on my way out the front gates and across the bridge.

It was the clearest of nights—it seemed every star in the heavens were shining. I made my way to the tomb of Oropher.

“I miss you, Ada,” I said feeling tear welling in my eyes. “I wish you could be here to see peace in our kingdom. I wish you could have known my son Legolas. He fought gallantly to save the world.”

I could not stop crying. Emotion took me from my posture as I fell to the ground. Three thousand years of pain flowed from me like a waterfall. I do not remember for how long I cried but when I stopped there was no sound left but those of nature. I looked up and was startled by a vision of my mother.

Dressed in a white gown flowing with her hair behind her.

“Thranduil, my son,” she said. “Do not weep for you brought peace to our kingdom and to our people.”

“Nana,” I said standing. “Is that you?”

She reached out and embraced me and I felt her close to me as I had in my youth.

“My little Isilya,” she said. I knew it was Nimeithel. “You have changed so much. I can see it in your eyes. But it is for the best. Soon you must decide what to do and it will be the hardest choice you will ever make.”

“What choice,” I asked. “What else could there be? The war is over. There is peace.”

“I cannot say but you will know when the time comes. I miss you, Thranduil. Since I left you. But I knew then as now that I will see you again. I must go now. I needed to see you once more before you left.”

“Where would I go,” I asked as she kissed my cheek and moved away further and further.” Where would I go? Mother? Nana?”

“What vexes you, Thranduil,” a voice said. I turned to see Eldôr.

“Did you see my mother,” I asked staring into the pitch of night. “She was here. Mother was here.”

“Oh course she was, Thranduil,” he said almost mockingly. “Nimeithel tends to do such things.”

“You do not believe me,” I said defiantly.

“She told you that you would see her again,” he said gently. “And you will. But now you need to rest before the dawn. We have a ceremony to attend.”

As we began toward the palace, I couldn’t help but look back. Nimeithel was gone. I could not help but wonder what she meant about the choice I would have to make. That choice would come to me sooner than I would have wanted.

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

The day was more beautiful than I could remember—crisp and clear. I was dressed in my finest spring regalia to go before my people. I stood in the hall quietly awaiting my children. Soon, Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin came before me. Nenduîl looked uncomfortable in his little robes which were as mine and I tried not to laugh.

“Shall we go,” I asked.

“Not yet,” Êlúriel said as she stepped out of our room. She was breathtaking—more heavenly than earthly as she approached us. “Now, we can go.”

They nodded and we made our way down the hall toward the front gate. Before we were to exit, we awaited the rest of the family. Soon, Isílriel, Eldôr, Elranduil, Ardôr, Ninyáre, Tarthôn, Ëariâth, Orisil, Arlúin, Elendôr, Aradúlin, Tatháron, Aranduil, Auríel, Êleneth, Aramoth, Nenloth, Nimlos, Sildúriel, Aruilos, Nimlúin, Aradûial, Fëaluin and Linurial. When all were assembled, the doors were opened and we walked out into the sun.

Before us stood every elf in the kingdom standing side by side with elven warriors of Lothlórien. On the bridge awaited Celeborn, Galadriel, Galathil, Ëarmîr, Isílion, Tárion, Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin. As I took my place beside Celeborn and Galathil, I nodded—a smile across my face I felt for what seemed an eternity.

“Elves of Mirkwood,” Celeborn began. “The curse of Sauron that kept your people in shadow is no more. Your kin in the West need not fear any longer the darkness their kin in the East have endured alone. The name of your king shall once again be on the lips of all creatures in Arda as it was always meant to be. Forevermore shall he be known as King Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen.”

There rose from the elves cheers that could be heard for miles around. I turned to Celeborn as he smiled at me. I had no words to express the happiness I felt.

“You need not say a word, Thranduil,” he said. “It was my pleasure. We never should have let you suffer such evil alone. You are one of us—our kin. Forgive me such indignity.”

“There is nothing you have done that needs forgiving,” I said. “It was not your doing that our kingdom fell to Sauron. I know now you did what you felt you had to do. You are here now. That is all that matters.”

“Until tomorrow,” he said. “I am sure Elrond is waiting for us to return to prepare for a wedding.”

“Arwen and Aragorn,” I said.

“Galadriel can hardly contain herself,” he mused. “I find it refreshing she has lent her wisdom elsewhere rather than on me.”

“Seems Nenduîl would agree with you.”

“She told me about him,” he added. “A rather precocious stripling you have there. Galadriel needs more rest than we did coming from battle, I dare say.”

“I am afraid he gets it from my cousin, Elranduil,” I said laughing. “He was much like Nenduîl in his youth.”

“I remember you having an rather inquisitive penchant for trouble,” he said. “As it were, Elranduil told me as much. He said you still have an inkling of it.”

“Elranduil says many things,” I said glancing at him as he spoke with Galathil. “Most of which are exaggeration.”

He laughed and went to Galadriel as Aranduil, Nenduîl and Tárimë ran by followed by several other elven children nearly knocking over Ëarmîr.

“Must I stay, Uncle,” I heard him ask Galathil.

“I beg your pardon,” I asked walking over to them. “What is this about?”

“Ëarmîr will remain with you when we leave,” Galathil said. “He knows his place. Not a word until the day comes.”

“I do not understand,” I began before Elranduil interrupted.

“Enough for now,” he said. “We have things to attend to. If we may, Galathil?”

He nodded and walked away with Ëarmîr.

“Why is Ëarmîr staying with us,” I asked again. “Which of my council is he replacing?”

“No one is leaving,” he said escorting me into the palace. “He is staying with us for a brief time. I would not worry yourself about it just now. You have to decide what to do with the extended borders of Eryn Lasgalen.”

I stopped short of the main gates as the guards opened the door.

“I could have sworn I am the King of the realm,” I said angrily. “Yet, somehow I have no knowledge of what goes on within it. I demand that you tell me what is going on this instant.”

“I cannot tell you for it is not for me to tell,” he said. “Just know it is all for the best. Now, Fëaluin awaits us in your study.”

We continued on into the palace and into the study. I was prepared to protest when I stopped in my tracks. In my presence was Ardôr talking to his son Elendôr as Fëaluin spoke with Eldôr. They turned and bowed to me.

“You wished a word, Fëaluin,” I asked. “Perhaps you can tell me what no one else will."

“I gather you learned of Ëarmîr,” he said. “He will be staying in Eryn Lasgalen.”

“I am aware of that,” I said sharply. “Why is what I seem to find difficult to ascertain.”

“He is here for me,” he said. “I require additional assistance.”

“Oh, well,” I answered. “That tells me absolutely nothing.”

“I shall explain to you later, if I may, Thranduil,” he said reading a scroll. “My time is sacrosanct just now. Must prepare for tonight.”

“Tonight,” I asked perplexed. “What is tonight?”

“Dinner,” Eldôr said, patting my shoulder as he and Fëaluin walked past me and out of the study.

“Worry not, Thranduil,” Ardôr said quietly. “All is well in your kingdom.”

He left with Elendôr, leaving me and Elranduil to ourselves. I had a feeling of suspicion within that something was going to happen.

“Elranduil, what do you know,” I asked. “Please, tell me.”

“You are the King of Eryn Lasgalen,” he said. “If you wish to know more than that, I am afraid I will be of little help. I am just as confounded as you are, cousin.”

I knew then I was in for another revelation that would be more spectacular than the last.

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

It was dawn when Êlúriel and I stood with our court on the bridge to bid farewell to Celeborn, Galathil and Galadriel. Beside me stood Elranduil and Ëarmîr, who earlier had a private moment with Galathil and Celeborn before becoming a member of my court. I was curious as to why he was required to stay, however, the time to inquire would come.

“Your Majesty,” Haldir began. “It has truly been a pleasure. My brothers and I have never felt more at home outside Lothlórien in a long time.”

“Think nothing of it,” I said. “You are welcome always in my kingdom.”

“We shall see you again,” Galadriel began, giving me a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Beyond these borders you will one day find your way. Do not tarry.”

I smiled at her; perplexed by her words. Celeborn and Galathil smiled as Isílion and Tárion approached.

“The warriors are ready to return to Lothlórien, My Lords and Lady,” Isílion said. “All has been prepared.”

“See your way home,” Celeborn said to me.

He embraced me one last time and took Galadriel’s hand and went the length of the bridge to their horses. Galathil followed close behind. When everyone was upon their steeds, the elves of Lothlórien left Eryn Lasgalen.

“So, Ëarmîr,” I began. “What task has been given you that you are left in my charge as a new member of my court?”

“You will know soon enough, Your Majesty,” he said softly. “For now, you should take pleasure in your new kingdom and its expanded borders.”

“So I shall,” I said. “And I shall have Fëaluin find you a place in council.”

We entered the palace and the days that came thereafter would be filled with wonders.

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

Months went by with little fanfare—as the entire kingdom began to become accustomed to a peaceful existence. So many years had gone by where we stood guard and waited for evil to come upon us, even the twitter of birds frightened us whenever one would snap a twig under foot.

One day, I decided to go for a ride with Nenduîl and Tárimë. The care of the royal children was given to Ëarmîr by Fëaluin and he was quite adept at caring for them much to the consternation of Nenduîl and Aranduil. Ëarmîr began to find his place and a friend in Tárimë who adored hearing stories from the court of Lady Galadriel. She had started to grow into young lady wanting to become as elegant and graceful as all the elven maidens of the past.

As I was looking forward to spending the day away from court, Elranduil and Eldor approached me with Tarthôn and Nimlos as I emerged from my chambers.

“Come quickly,” Eldôr said. “Fëaluin is at the front gate.”

“Why,” I asked. “Something amiss?”

“A rider approaches,” Elranduil said. “Come quickly.”

We hurried ourselves toward the front gates and into the crisp morning where Êlúriel waited for us. I could see from a distance lone rider making his way toward us.

“Who is it, Ada,” I heard Nenduîl ask as he ran to my side with his sister and cousin.

I could see who it was and I felt a smile cross my face with eager anticipation.

“Legolas,” I said to myself. “It is Legolas.”

“My son,” Êlúriel whispered.

When his horse stopped at the foot of the bridge, he dismounted as servants helped his companion—a dwarf warrior—down to the ground. Legolas slowly approached me I made my way to him. When were standing in front of one another, we both seemed lost in the sight of one another.

“Ada,” he finally said. “I told you I would return to you.”

I could not contain my joy and embraced him tightly.

“My son,” I whispered to him. “My son. Welcome home.”

I did not want to let him go. My son—my heir—was home at last. When I finally released him, Êlúriel took her turn.

“I knew you would return,” she said. “My little Greenleaf.”

“Nana,” he said, blushing.

Beside him stood the dwarf that arrived with him. He bowed eloquently as any prince would to a king. In his face, I recognized another.

“Ada and Nana, this is Gimli, son of Glóin,” Legolas said. “He is a friend and one of the Fellowship.”

“So I have heard,” I said. “We were fortunate to have met his father again not long before in Dale when I attended the burial of King Dáin of Erebor. It is an honor to meet you Gimli, son of Glóin.”

“And I you, Your Majesty,” Gimli said smiling through his wooly beard cheerfully. “You are not as fearsome as they said.”

“I am glad to hear it,” I said. I could hear Elranduil and Nimlos hiding their laughter behind me as Tarthôn approached.

“Welcome home, brother,” he said to Legolas, embracing him. “Good to have you home once more.”

“It is good to be home,” Legolas answered. “I told Gimli all about you.”

“I feel as I have known you all my life,” Gimli said. “Wait until you hear about me.”

Everyone broke into laughter.

“Are you a real dwarf,” I heard Nenduîl ask as he and Aranduil looked him over curiously.

“I hope so,” he answered. “If I am not, my father will be quite disappointed.”

“Nenduîl, Aranduil,” Ëarmîr scolded. He had arrived in time to save me from my thoughts as I recalled Durin asking me if I were a real elf.

They looked at him and then at me.

“He is a real dwarf,” I answered. “He is welcomed to stay with us as long as he would like. He is a friend of Legolas. You will behave, will you not?”

“Of course, Ada,” Nenduîl said. “We will.”

“Very well, then,” I said. “Fëaluin, show our guest a place to rest. He must be weary from his travels. I wish to speak to my sons alone for a moment, if I may.”

"As you wish,” Fëaluin answered as he motioned to Gimli to follow him and everyone inside.

“It is good to have my sons with me again,” I said. “Together. I am very proud of both of you and all you have done for this world and your kingdom. I do not think there is father in all of Arda as glad as me.”

“Ada has become more sentimental since I have been away,” Legolas said smiling.

“Worse,” Tarthôn said. “Far worse.”

I embraced my sons and then we made our way into palace. Everything was once again as it should be.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-22-17

Chapter XXVI: (EXT) The Fall of Dol Guldur (Pt. III)

It would be a few days later that word would come from Celeborn in the south. When I was not deep in thought, I spent time with Êlúriel and the children. They were growing up so quickly right before my eyes. On this day, I sat on a bench as I watched them together in the garden, I could not help but see how much Tárimë had begun to look like Êlúriel. So much had changed in the world I had not noticed. Even the trees of the forest seem to sense the change of the ages.

“Ada,” Tárimë said walking toward me. “See. It is a butterfly. It is so pretty, is it not?”

“It is,” I said watching as it fluttered its wings while sitting quietly on Tárimë’s hand. Suddenly it took flight high above us until it was gone.

“You are going to leave again soon,” she said. “I do not want you to go, but I know you must. When your return, will the war be over?”

“I hope it will be, Tárimë,” I said. “It has lasted far too long.”

She sat beside me and leaned her head upon my shoulder.

“Why are there such things as war,” she asked. “I do not understand them.”

“Neither do I,” I answered. It was true—I did not understand them. I did know why there was a need for them. They seemed to steal lives and souls over something as meaningless as power. It seemed to be the only thing any one being could keep for themselves as things intangible as time could not be tamed.

“War is like winter,” she said. “The days are shorter and the nights longer. Like a season that never ends.”

I felt a chill run through me when I heard her words. Êlúriel had said them to me before I left for Dagorlad. I looked at Tárimë—her face stoic and lost in thought.

“You are wise for your age,” I said softly. “Very much so.”

“Nana said that to me long ago,” she answered. “I take after Queen Êlúriel.”

“Your mother was right,” I began. “You are very much like her if not rather short.”

She looked at me and smiled.

“I have not yet come of age,” she said giggling. “When I do, will I be as graceful as a queen?”

“You already are,” I said kissing atop her head.

We sat together quietly—watching Êlúriel with Eärluin and Auríel as Nenduîl and Aranduil played nearby.

“Thranduil,” I heard a voice say behind me. I looked up to see Elmîr. I rose with Tárimë.

“Yes,” I asked. “What is it?”

“One comes from Lothlórien to see you,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said. I turned to Tárimë. “I will see you before I leave. Go to Nana now.”

She nodded and walked away slowly. She glanced back once with a look that nearly broke my heart. I nodded to Elmîr and we made our way into the palace and to the throne room where two elven men stood surrounded by my council and my court.

“I thought you said one, Elmîr,” I said.

“They accompanied the one that came from Lothlórien,” he whispered.

I stood before the two men—both with long golden hair and grey eyes. They bowed to me.

“Your Majesty,” one said. “I am Isílion and my brother Tárion. We come to you from Lothlórien with a bearer of a message.”

“Where is this messenger,” I asked.

Out of the shadow stepped figure hooded in a white cloak. Once removed, the room fell silent. I approached her.

“Lady Galadriel,” I said. “This is quite an honor and rather unexpected. I thought you to be in Caras Galadhon under the protection of guards.”

“I was there,” she began. “And Caras Galadhon is well protected. I come of my own will to you. Our borders are safe as our warriors were able to push the glamhoth back from whence they came. Dol Guldur. It is now time for you to join Celeborn to bring down what is left of Sauron’s forces that remain.”

“I thought you would be making your way westward by now,” I said. “There is no need for many of our kin to stay longer than we need to. Most of all you, daughter of Finarfin. I am to think you remain for Celeborn?”

“You may think many things, Thranduil, as you will. But I know your heart and it is with your people as ours.”

I motioned for Fëaluin to come to me.

“Prepare to leave at dawn,” I whispered. 

He nodded and left with Sildúr and Aradin. I returned my gaze to Galadriel. Her beauty had not shown and signs of fading as her age would dictate. She smiled serenely at me.

“Will you remain within my halls until our return,” I asked.

“If it pleases you, Thranduil,” she said. “I will see you and Celeborn again and if it be here then so will it be.”

“Very well,” I said. “I will have my court prepare quarters for you and your companions.”

“I know I will be well served and protected,” Galadriel said. 

Isílriel, Ardúin and her sisters Linurial and Súlthulë bowed reverently and escorted Galadriel and her companions away. I gave Eldôr a look he found amusing.

“Thranduil,” he began. “I am quite sure the children will enjoy her company.”

“What are you not telling me, Uncle,” I asked.

“What would I keep from you,” he asked.

“I am not fool enough to think that the Lady of Light has left her kingdom without someone to see to its routine while she is away. There are only two directions an elf will go and often that is not east to Mirkwood without cause.”

“Elrond remains in Rivendell,” he said. “I do not know whether or not many remain there or in Lothlórien, but he is well aware of the whereabouts of his entire family.”

“Good,” I said. “Then I will not awaken to any more of them before I leave for battle or is that wishful thinking?”

“No more,” he said smiling. “But they are your kin, you realize.”

“I do not need reminding, Eldôr,” I said. “I need this war to end before my kingdom becomes a bastion for any more of my estranged kin.”

I made my way to my study and watched the waters falling in the fading light of day. Tomorrow I would ride to my last battle in this world. I could not help but wonder if I would see Legolas again. 

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

Before the light of day, I was dressed and prepared to ride to Dol Guldur. I did not want to wake Nenduîl and Tárimë as I knew they would worry. I walked through the front gates to where my warriors waited for me with Fëaluin, Eldôr, Elranduil and Nimlos.

“Thranduil, son of Oropher,” I heard a voice whisper to me. I turned around to see Galadriel standing behind me with Êlúriel and our children. “We have little to fear for you are your father’s son and he would be proud of you.”

“Thank you, Galadriel,” I said. I kissed her hand. “Look southward to our victorious return.”

She smiled and nodded. I approached Êlúriel.

“I leave you again,” I said. “One last time.”

“For one last time I will say 'return to me',” she said.

“I will,” I answered. “You have my word.”

I kissed her quickly and I went on my way. As a stable hand brought my horse, I noticed Isílion and Tárion speaking with Elmîr and Sildúr. Upon my approach, they bowed.

“You are to take me to Celeborn,” I asked them.

“Of course,” Tárion said. “When His Majesty is ready.”

I looked at my warriors and mounted my horse. The others followed suit. I gave the command and the banners were raised.

“Noro,” I said. “To Dol Guldur.”

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

We rode in silence—our minds deep in thought. Would this truly be the last battle I would ever see? Would I return home and would I ever see Legolas again? The unknown is often the only thing we know—it is the certainty that anything can and will happen. The mystery lies within us as to the outcome. I always thought I knew what I would do any given moment and realizing too late that preparation was merely expectation of something unexpected.

As we made our way closer to Dol Guldur, we me Tarthôn and Aruilos at their position at Emyn Duir as their men were packing the camp to move further South.

“Father,” he said. “It is good to see you again.”

“What news have you heard from Celeborn,” I asked.

“His warriors were able to force what was left of the glamhoth into their garrison,” Aruilos said. “Not long after many were lost not far from Angrenost. Lord Celeborn sent word to us that they have surrounded them preparing to lay siege upon them.”

“Upon my arrival, no less,” I said. “Let us go together so we might set up camp before nightfall.”

They nodded and hurried to their horses.

“Where is Ardôr,” Elranduil asked looking for his son. “I thought he would be here with Êlenuil and Elendôr.”

“They went on ahead, Ada,” Orísil said as he rode up to us. “Not long after Celeborn sent word to you.”

“He knew of the messenger,” he asked.

“You mean Lady Galadriel,” Orísil said smiling. “Yes, of course.”

“He told you this himself,” Nimlos asked.

“No,” he answered. “From one called Glorfindel.”

Elranduil let out a deep sigh as Nimlos laughed with Eldôr.

“Come,” I said sternly. “Let us not tarry any longer.”

I thought back long ago to when I first met Glorfindel. Beyond what I remembered of him, I was lost in the memory of my father and Melros I lost at Dagorlad. Before long my thoughts were turned to seeing the Elves of Lothlórien making camp. When we had stopped, I motioned to Fëaluin. He took charge of preparing my tent. As I dismounted, I stood beside Elranduil, Nimlos, Eldôr, Tarthôn Orísil and Aruilos as Isílion and Tárion waited with us as Haldir and his brothers Rúmil and Orophin approached us.

“Your Majesty,” Haldir said bowing. “Good to see you again. Lord Celeborn awaits you in his tent. Shall we, Your Majesty?”

I nodded and we made our way toward a large white tent with silver and white banners at its doors. I entered to see Ardôr and his sons waiting with us with Celeborn.

“Celeborn, son of Galadhon,” I said approaching him. “I have come to you as promised.”

“So you have,” he said. “I am indebted to you.”

“You need not be,” I said. “You know me well enough to know I would do anything to bring peace to my people. We have been cast asunder by the evil of Sauron for far too long. I wish to put an end to it. My life is a small price to pay should that be the cost.”

“Not you, Thranduil,” he said. “You will not fall here or anywhere I imagine. You might well be the strongest of our kin. I know you are the most headstrong of our kind.”

“I have lost too much not to be so,” I said. “Too much I have endured not to be strong when I must. But enough idle chatter. How do we bring about the fall of Dol Guldur once and for all?”

He went to his table as the tent began to fill with elves that would lead the charge. When everyone was accounted, I stood with Celeborn at his table with Fëaluin at my side. Before we could start, two elves entered.

“Many apologies for my lateness,” the first said. He had long hair of gold and grey eyes that seemed softened by tragedy but no less courageous.

“None is necessary,” Celeborn said smiling. “You remember Thranduil, do you not?”

“It has been quite a long time,” he began as he bowed. “Perhaps too long.”

“Galathil,” I said. “It has been too long.”

The other elf that entered stood beside Celeborn quietly. He bowed politely—his youth obvious to everyone, with his soft brown hair and deep green eyes.

“This is Ëarmîr,” Celeborn said. “He is council to me and my brother, Galathil.” I nodded and once again all fell quiet as we readied ourselves to discuss our offensive.

“Many orcs may not remain, but they fight no less fiercely,” Celeborn began. 

“Their allegiance is to one greater than life itself—to the one that they have given what is left of a soul that remains within them.”

“It was the detriment that they parceled themselves thin,” Galathil said. “Quickly they fell at Angrenost underestimating that which they thought powerless.”

“The Ents,” Ëarmîr said softly. “They left few to retreat save one or two—far less than what returned from the borders of Lothlórien.”

“We have the advantage of limiting when and where they fight surrounding their fortress,” I said. “But not long will it be before they decide to give all or nothing to what little they have left. Let the bowmen take as many down as allowed and the rest of us will wait for their emergence from squalor—for that what will be too much to bare.”

“I will prepare my men tonight,” Aradin said. “With the archers of Lothlorien, we should have plenty to surround the whole of Dol Guldur and hold them for days.”

I nodded and he rose and left quickly with Elmîr close behind.

“This will be the last battle we shall fight,” Celeborn said.

“It has to be,” I said. “For if we do not win, everyone in this world will live in darkness.”

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

After much discussion, I left Celeborn’s tent for mine. I knew at first light, my last battle would begin. I looked South to a familiar sight—the flames of Orodruin. As they had burned for as long as I could remember, I thought of all that were fighting not far from where so many of my warriors fell beside my father.

“Ada,” I heard behind me. “Might I have a word?”

“Yes, Tarthôn,” I answered as I entered my tent with him.

I sat in my seat beside my table as Tarthôn sat on my chaise nearby.

“What worries you,” I asked.

“You worry me,” he said. “I know what you lost in similar circumstances. I fear you would allow yourself to fall.”

“There is no need to worry,” I said smiling. “I would not do such a thing. I have had plenty of time think on it, but there were far more things I had to live for. You and Legolas, Nenduîl and Tárimë. My people. Êlúriel. I worry how it would be should I not return against my will.”

“You will return, Ada. And so will I.”

“Why are you so sure of such things,” I asked.

“Because, I was told,” he said. “Though I have a family of my own, I still in need of a father. You will keep your word you made to Melros. It still ails you.”

“Yes, son,” I answered. “It does.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” he began. “You are as great a father as you are a king. As Legolas, I will keep my word and return home.”

“You are a good son,” I said, remembering Melros’ words to me. “A very good son. I am proud to have raised you. You are much a part of me as Legolas.”

He smiled and bowed to me.

“See you at first light, Ada,” he said. "And when we complete our task, we will ride home together. I love you, Ada.”

“I love you as well, Tarthôn.”

He left me alone to think. Silence demands to be heard—it can be sharper than a blade and more painful. I tried to keep my thoughts from clashing like blades in my mind. I realized I had not fought many wars but one. There had only been times of peace intermingled with battles. When I found a calm within me, the darkness had begun to lighten. It was time once more to wage war with evil.

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

In the twilight of the coming day, I saw that the elven troops had surrounded the garrison of Dol Guldur. The orcs would use their height to rain arrows down upon us. Aradin had positioned archers a distance away and as high as the crumbling remains of the walls of Dol Guldur. Surrounding Celeborn and Me were shields to deflect arrows away from troops at the slope. At the first ray of light, arrows fell from above and over us. I glanced at Celeborn and he nodded.

“Noro, thî,” he shouted and hundreds of elven warriors ran straight toward the ruins from which orcs ran to meet them in battle. 

We rode into the fray together—into a fury that created its own winds with the blood of the slaughtered blowing in the air. I swung my sword until the pain was nearly unbearable when all of sudden everything stopped abruptly. I looked around me—not one elf nor one orc moved. They were looking to the south toward Mordor.

Friend and foe stood together watching what seemed out of place to us. We felt the earth rumbling and rolling as a wave on the sea. Orodruin seemed to turn from orange to red then fade to black. Only puffs of dark clouds erupted from it—eventually fading into daylight.

“It is done,” I heard Eldôr say to me. “It is finally done.”

“Perhaps,” Celeborn said. “But what there is left, we must destroy.”

As nothing had happened, the battle continued well into dusk when we found we stood amidst the corpses of orcs and some elves. I began to worry once more—my heart beating so loudly I heard not a word.

“Thranduil,” I heard.

I looked up to see Elranduil with Nimlos and Ardôr, Orísil and Tarthôn. I felt some comfort when I saw Eldôr speaking with Celeborn and Galathil.

“Where is Êlenuil,” I asked. “And his brother Elendôr?

“There,” Elranduil pointed. 

I looked to see them alive and well, speaking with Aruilos, Elmîr and Fëaluin. When I saw Isílion and Tárion with Haldir, Orophin and Rúmil, I knew our loses were very few. It took me some time to reach land unsoiled by death. When I found my footing night had begun to fall.

“We can rest,” Galathil said. “For the first time, we can rest. The ring has been destroyed.”

“We will return to Mirkwood tomorrow,” I said. “Victorious.”

I went to my tent for the first time feeling thousands of years of darkness no longer weighing down the night as the stars seemed to shine brighter than they have since I was a youth.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-22-17

Chapter XXVI: (EXT) The Fall of Dol Guldur (Pt. II)

“As the sun rose the next morning, we were led to out of the palace to take my place in a procession toward the gates of Erebor. As we rode toward the mountain, memories flooded my mind of the past. I was filled with sadness knowing I would look upon death once more. We came to the gates of Erebor and began our descent into the heart of the mountain.

Lying in eternal slumber lay the two kings side by side.

“They died together,” Dwalin whispered. “So shall they remain together forever. I never thought I would see this day when man would lie at rest beside a dwarf.”

“It is the sign of the times,” Thorin said softly. “Blood of one is no different from another. In war it all the same. No different in death for neither shall see the light of day. They were friends in life and together gave their lives for their people."

As we passed before the fallen kings, I paused before Dáin. I remembered when met we fought the battle that took Thorin Oakenshield so many years before. I placed my hand upon his that held his axe.

“Farewell, Elf-Friend,” I whispered. “King Dáin of Erebor. Your legacy shall be remembered through all the ages.”

The processional continued to move quietly through dimly lit caverns of the mountain and into the light of day. I could not help but think of how much timed had passed or how much it had changed me. When all was done we began our return to Dale.

Evening fell quickly as I stood along the balcony of the city square looking into the valley below. I would be leaving for home in the morning. Êlúriel was with Aurëwyn, learning about the city. My mind had little thought of anything but a profound misunderstanding of life itself.

“Thranduil,” I heard Fëaluin say. “Someone wishes a word with you.”

I turned to see Dwalin and Glóin standing before me. I nodded as they came closer and bowed.

“Your Majesty,” Dwalin said. “I wanted to thank you for coming.”

“You need not thank me, Dwalin,” I said. “I wanted to come. I only wished I had come while Dáin was still with us.”

“It is not an easy task ruling a kingdom,” Glóin said. “Especially in times such as these. I know what you have given to this war for I gave to it the same. You have nothing that needs forgiving.”

“Perhaps,” I said. “Though if you remember, it was me that put you away in my dungeons not so long ago without even thought to your plight or your mission.”

“That was long ago,” Dwalin said. “If there were a debt to be paid, it was done when you fought at our side against Bolg and his evil horde. Besides, better your dungeon than the web of a spider.”

We could not help but share a laugh.

“Thank you,” I said. “For your forgiveness and your friendship.”

“You are welcome,” he answered.

“May our sons return to us,” Glóin said. “To cement our friendship for another generation.”

They bowed to me and left for the night. My spirits began to lighten when I realized I was not alone. I looked down and saw Bain and Durin looking at me with curiosity.

“Are you a real elf,” Durin asked.

“Yes, I am,” I answered. “Are you a real dwarf?”

“Of course he is,” Bain said. “Just a very small one.”

“So I see,” I said. “You must be a human, then. A very small one.”

Durin laughed as Bain nudged him.

“You are both up rather late. Should you not be in bed?”

“I suppose,” Bain began. “But we cannot sleep.”

“I wanted to see a real elf,” Durin said.

“You have, so you can sleep now,” I said.

“How old are you,” he asked.

“That is not polite, Durin,” Bain said. “You never ask old people their age.”

I kneeled down to their height and took hold of them. They stiffened in fear—their eyes growing larger.

“I am very old,” I said smiling. “I have seen every one of your bed time stories I am sure of it.”

“You were alive when the dragon came,” Durin asked.

“Older than that, Durin,” I said.

“That is old,” Bain said. “Tell us more.”

“What are you doing out of your room,” Aurëwyn said coming toward us. “I apologize to His Majesty if they are being a nuisance.”

“They are fine,” I said. “It is my fault they are here. They wanted to have an audience with me, did you not?”

“Yes,” Bain said quickly. “An audience.”

“What is an audience,” Durin asked.

“Can we stay, Mother,” Bain asked. “Please?"

Aurëwyn looked at me knowing not what to say to me.

“Where is Êlúriel,” I asked her.

“The queen has retired to her chambers, Your Majesty,” she said.

I stood up and walked to her. She looked at me with a familiar expression—so much like Súlelenth.

“Good,” I said. “It is fine for the children to stay. I will have Fëaluin see them to bed.”

“Are you sure, Your Majesty,” she said softly.

“Yes. Pedo enni adui.”

Her eyes began to tear up and I knew she understood me. She nodded and walked away quietly. I turned back to the boys that stood in wonder—their mouths agape.

“Now, where were we,” I asked, sitting upon a stone bench.

“The dragon,” Durin said climbing onto my lap. “You know about the dragon.”

“I want to know about my great great grandfather,” Bain said sitting beside me. “He slew the dragon, did he not?”

“Yes, he did,” I said.

I told them many things into the night until they fell asleep. It was Nimlos and Elranduil that carried them away to their room in the palace. Once the children were taken away, two guards approached me and bowed as I rose. I knew what they had come. I nodded and followed them away to a spacious garden where lantern lit paths led to monuments to the past. In front of a stone figure stood Aurëwyn waiting for me.

“Your Majesty,” she said. “You wished to speak with me.”

“So it is true,” I said. “You know the language of the elves.”

“Yes,” she said. “My great grandfather learned it from his brother’s wife.”

“Arímë,” I said. “She was the cousin of my wife Êlúriel.”

“I know,” she said. “She told me tonight. My grandfather spoke of it often. He was proud to have an Elda in the family. He died when I was very young; not long after my father.”

“You have my sympathy,” I said softly, looking at the stone figure.

“You knew my husband’s ancestor,” she said. “His namesake.”

“I did.”

“What is it like to have lived for so long,” she asked.

“As any other creature,” I answered. “Only longer.”

She smiled and began walking down a path into a lower area. Curiously, I followed her. Beneath ornate stone arches covered in vine, I realized tombs surrounded us. She stood before one that had "Arímë Gildúriel" carved into the marble.

“I know you wanted to come,” she said. “To see her one last time before you leave tomorrow. If she were still here I am sure she would have wanted to see you both again. Good night, Your Majesty.”

She smile once more and disappeared into the darkness of the palace. I stood alone for a moment looking at the face of the stone in thought—thinking of Nenduîl and Tárimë. I wish she could see how much they had grown. I had lived longer than I wanted and seen far more than I needed. I touched the stone. It was colder than the night but not without its own eternal beauty.

“I knew I would find you here,” I heard Fëaluin say from behind.

“Of course you would, Fëaluin,” I answered. “I am sure you convinced Aurëwyn to bring me here.”

“Sadly, no,” he said. “It was Êlúriel. Aurëwyn showed me the way.”  

“How else would you have found your way,” he asked. “Dale is different than it once was centuries ago.”

“All things are different than they once were,” I said. “Tomorrow will be different than today. What will never change is us.”

“You have changed greatly,” he said. “For the better, I must say. No longer the pampered son of a king. Now you are a father and a king.”

“I was never pampered. You have me confused with Elranduil.”

“No,” he said. “If I am not mistaken, you were quite a handful. That is what mother told me and Fínduin after spending a day with you.” 

I looked at the tomb once more.

“Namárië, Arímë Gildúriel,” I whispered. “Pedathon i narn o Nenduîl a Tárimë.”

I turned away and walked with Fëaluin through the gardens and to our quarters in the palace. Once I was in my room, I saw Êlúriel standing by the window.

“Arímë left this world peacefully,” she said. “For that I am grateful.”

I removed my coat and I went to her and embraced her from behind, burying my face in the curve of her neck. I kissed it softly and felt her quiver.

“I wish she had gotten to see Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin one last time,” I whispered. “I was against it. I am ashamed, Êlúriel.”

“Do not be,” she said turning around. “They would have never understood age or sickness. They should remember her as she was—as I remember her. She would have wanted it that way.”

She looked into my eyes and realized I could not see hers for the tears in mine. Using her sleeve, she began wiping them away.  

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” she whispered, kissing me. “Nothing.”

“You are too good to me,” I said.

“I know,” she answered. “But you make me want to be.”

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

At dawn, the whole of Erebor and Dale had come to see us off. Thorin, Dwalin and Glóin stood before us beside Bard and Aurëwyn.

“It has been an honored with your visit,” Bard began. “Though I wish it had been under better circumstances, Your Majesties.”

“It is we that are honored,” I said. “You and Thorin have been the most gracious of hosts.”

Nimlos helped Êlúriel upon her horse and before another word was said, Bain and Durin ran to me.

“Must you leave now,” Bain asked.

“I am afraid so,” I said.

“Here,” Durin said handing me something. “This is for you.”

It was small dragon carved out of wood. For its size, it was rather detailed in its features.

“Thank you, Durin,” I said smiling. “I will treasure it always.”

“I know I will hear from you again, Your Majesty,” Dwalin said.

“I am sure of it,” Glóin said. “If I know my Gimli.”

“Then Legolas is in good company,” I said.

I mounted my horse and we rode away beside Êlúriel and Elranduil with Fëaluin and Nimlos close behind. As we rode out of the city gates there was much fanfare from men and dwarves alike. I looked forward to my return home, but for the first time, I was leaving a place I wanted to stay longer.

“I am going to miss them,” I said.

“Who are you,” Elranduil asked. “Where is my cousin? I have never known you to miss man or dwarf in you lifetime.”

“I missed Aûrvar,” I said. “He was pleasant from what I remember. Though few men I have missed, I was rather fond of Bard of Esgaroth.”

“I look forward to the day when we are at peace,” Nimlos said. “That has yet to come to fruition. Until that day, my concerns lie with our people in the south.”

“Never mind those once more facing the gates of Barad-Dûr,” Fëaluin said. 

“There is still darkness in that must be destroyed.”

“It will be,” I said. “I believe it will be this time.”

We rode the rest of the way in silence. Before long we had arrived at the gates of my palace. We dismounted and our horses taken away in time for Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin came running to us.

“Ada! Nana,” they said embracing me.

“You are home,” Tárimë said.

“Yes, I we are,” I said. “Were you good?”

“I was,” Nenduîl said.

“So was I,” Tárimë said.

“She hit Aranduil again,” Eärluin said.

“I did not,” Tárimë said angrily. “That was you.”

“Eärluin,” Êlúriel began. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” she answered giggling as Êlúriel took her hand.

Eldôr approached us, his expression rather stern—nearly painful.

“Uncle,” I said. “Are you well?"

“Next time, I am going with you. No matter where it is,” he said.

Elranduil laughed as he embraced his father. Nimlos led Nenduîl and Tárimë after Êlúriel and Eärluin into the palace with Fëaluin close behind.

“Any word while we were gone,” I asked.

“No,” he said. “It is starting to worry me.”

“I would think no word would be a good thing,” Elranduil said. “Perhaps there will be little need for another battle.”

“That will not happen,” Eldôr said. “Of all the glamhoth we killed, one was seen to have survived and made his way to Dol Guldur. If there were none left, he would have not gone back the way he came and maiming a few of our own. None mortally, thankfully.”

“Then we wait,” I said. “We will be prepared for anything.”

We walked into the palace together. In my hand, I held Durin’s little dragon tightly—my mind on what I knew was about to come.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-21-17

Chapter XXVI: (EXT) The Fall of Dol Guldur (Pt. I)

“Not long after that night, I found myself wandering alone through the halls of my palace. I found myself standing before a window beyond my throne looking outward into glistening waterfalls lit by rays of the sun. Though I felt little pain, I still wore a bandage wrapped securely around my torso.

“What is on your mind, Thranduil,” I heard Fëaluin ask as he approached me.

“Just thinking,” I said. “Nothing in particular.”

He looked at me without saying a word. His face was stoic, but his eyes seemed animated.

“Well, then,” he said. “Should this war end, our time will come to leave this world for another.”

“And if there is no end to war, Fëaluin,” I asked. What then? I should remain here waiting for peace and hoping I see my son again?”

“What of your children,” he asked. “They would not let you go the way of despair.”

“I know,” I sighed. “Especially the little ones. But I will send them to safety no matter what they say.”

“I hardly imagine Legolas or Tarthôn will leave you to your own, either."

“I have lived my life, Fëaluin,” I said. “I have seen a great many troubles. Eternity would only remind me of them.”

“And what of Êlúriel,” he asked. “You wish her to choose between you and those that have sailed and wait to see her again?”

“No,” I said. “I would never force her to choose. I know which she would choose and I could not bear the guilt. Yet, I have not conquered death.”

“And you never will,” he said. “You will change your mind--I know you will. For now, you thoughts are needed elsewhere.”

“Is there word from Celeborn,” I asked. 

“No,” he said. “From Dale. King Dáin of Erebor has fallen and at his side King Brand of Dale.”

I was crestfallen—remembering my friend Dáin fighting valiantly during the first battle in Dale not long ago.

“From whom was this message sent,” I asked quietly.

“From his kinsmen,” he said. “You have met him twice before. Dwalin, son of Funduin. His brother disappeared after coming through our kingdom a second time on his way to Khazâd-dûm.”

“I remember. Balin,” I said. “I dare not think of the fate that befell him and his company though I am sure Aiwendil knows well of it. And who shall rise in their places?”

“Dáin’s son Thorin, of course,” he began. “To Dale will sit Bard, son Brand.” I knew it would be some time before their coronations but I knew I had to pay my respects.

“I am sure they wish to lay them to rest swiftly,” I said. “The war has not yet ended and what will come remains unpredictable."

“Who do you wish to accompany you,” Fëaluin asked.

“You, of course,” I answered. “Nimlos and Elranduil. Eldôr should remain behind should word come from Emyn Duir.”

“I wish to go with you as well,” I heard Êlúriel say. I turned to see her smiling at me.

“Very well,” he answered. “We leave at first light.”

Fëaluin bowed and left.

“Who will remain behind with the children,” I asked.

“Who do you think, Thranduil,” she asked. “Isílriel, of course.” 

“Of course,” I said.

“I will prepare,” she said. “Please rest some more.”

“I am fine, Êlúriel,” I said. “Stop worrrying so much.”

“Then you have not lived long enough,” he said.

She smiled and left while I took the winding stairs down to the main hall and went into my study where Elranduil waited in my chair.

“We are going to Dale,” he said.

“How would you know of it,” I asked.

“The caverns have ears as well as voices, cousin,” he said. “How could I not have known?”

“The only ears and voices in this palace belong to your wife and her ladies.”

“That is not true,” he said. “Always. I happen to have been with Fëaluin when one of our Marchwardens from the East came with the message from Dale.”

“I have had my fill of death for one life time,” I said. “I suppose men and dwarves see it once and nevermore.”

“Not if they live to see it again,” he said. “Then they leave death for their children to see. It is a cycle that is never-ending. No matter what the old tales say. It is our misfortune to see such things for centuries. I gather we will leave at first light?”

“Yes,” I said. “It will be you, Nimlos, Fëaluin and Êlúriel, of course.”

He rose from my chair and walked over to me.

“We have seen better times,” he began. “It will be far better at the end of them, will it not?”

“Perhaps, but the end will not come soon enough, I am afraid.”

He nodded and left my alone. I sat down at my table thought about many things—so long, I had not realized darkness had begun to fall.

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

Before the sun rose, I went to see about Nenduîl and Tárimë. They slept soundly in their chambers as I watched them—their innocence I protected and coveted. Time had kept from me memories of my youth. I could barely remember when I was their age.

“Ada,” Tárimë said softly as she sat up. “Are you going away again?”

“Yes,” I answered as I sat beside her. “With Nana, but not for long.”

“I do not like it when you go away,” she said.

“Nor do I, Tárimë,” I said holding her. “Do you think I like being away from you, your sister and brother?”

“No,” she answered. “But when you are gone, Nenduîl teases me all the time.”

“I do not,” Nenduîl said as he walked over. “You tease me all the time.”

“Eärluin teases us both,” Tárimë said frowning.

“She teases everyone,” his sister said. “But boys are just awful.”

“Ada is boy,” he said. “You think he is awful as well?”

“No,” she said. “Just you and Aranduil.”

“Come now,” I started. “Be nice. I do not want to leave thinking you are not getting along.”

“We get on alright,” Nenduîl said. “When Tárimë, Eärluin and Auríel are elsewhere.”

“Nenduîl.”

“What,” he asked. “I like my sisters. Sometimes.”

“You wish me to leave and worry about you while I am gone,” I asked.

“No,” they said.

Nenduîl sat beside me as his sister climbed on my lap.

“So I have your word you will be good for Eldôr and Isílriel?”

“Isílriel,” Tárimë asked. “I love Isílriel. Eldôr tells us lots of stories. Just like great grandfather.”

“Is it true you ran around without anything on when you were little,” Nenduîl asked.

“I did no such thing,” I said. “Now back to bed both of you.”

“You did do that,” Tárimë said giggling.

I kissed her forehead and tucked her in as she continued to giggle. I picked up Nenduîl and carried him to his bed and tucked him in.

“Behave,” I said, kissing his forehead. “I will return.”

“Yes, Ada,” he said. As I left the room, I could here them both giggling.

When the doors were shut I made my way down the hall where I met Fëaluin, Nimlos and Elranduil.

“The Queen awaits us,” Fëaluin said.

“Let us leave now,” I said. “Pray we return before the call comes from Lothlórien.”

We made our way out of the gates where our horses were prepared. Êlúriel was already mounted and waiting patiently.

“Elranduil,” I asked. “Where would Nenduîl get the idea I ran around without anything on when I was little?”

He laughed as he and the others mounted their horses.

“Do not look at me, cousin,” he said. “It must have been Father. I did not say a word. I hardly remember, it was so long ago.”

“I heard it from your mother,” Êlúriel said to Elranduil.

“You mean to say it is true,” Nimlos asked. “I thought you were lying.”

I mounted my horse and rode past them without saying a word as they tried to hide their laughter.

“I will deal with you later, cousin,” I said beneath my breath.

We headed down the familiar path of Forest River leading toward Dale. As the sun rose, the city—grander than the ruins we had left long ago with Erebor rising high above nearly touching the sky as it lit up with the coming of a new day. The closer we came to the city, the more figures I could see—men and dwarves alike. The flags of Erebor and Dale flew side by side. Once inside the square, we were met by a man and a dwarf followed by others.

“I knew you would come,” the elder of the dwarves said as I dismounted.  

Nimlos helped Êlúriel down as several servants took our horses one way and possessions another.

“Of course, I would come, Dwalin,” I said. “How could I not come? I do believe it has been some time since you have seen my wife, Êlúriel.”

“It has,” Dwalin said. “Still as lovely a lass I have ever laid my eye upon.”

“You are too kind," Êlúriel said kissing his forehead.

“Dale welcomes you all,” the young man said. “I am Bard, son of Brand.”

The younger of the dwarves stepped forward cautiously—a youth at his side.

“I am Thorin, son of Dáin,” he said. “This is my son, Durin. We welcome Your Majesties, King and Queen of Mirkwood and your company.”

“Thank you,” I answered. “I wish it were for a happier occasion.”

“Of course,” Dwalin said. “Come, there is food and drink prepared for you in Dale’s great hall.”

We followed the group toward the grand gates along cobbled streets leading to the of the palace above.

“It has been some time since I saw you last,” said a dwarf with hair and beard red as fire. “You might not remember me. I am Glóin, son of Gróin. I came into your kingdom with a company of others.”

“Yes,” I said quietly. I was still ashamed of my actions.

“I had the pleasure of meeting your son in Rivendell,” he said. “Legolas, I believe is his name.”

I felt a warm feeling run through me that someone had seen Legolas. I could feel my face smiling.

“Yes,” I said proudly. “Legolas is my son.”

“He is out there fighting alongside my son, Gimli,” he said. “I hope both return to us in one piece.”

“How else would they come back,” Durin asked.

“Not good,” said a little boy that had come along side Durin. “Not good at all.”

“Bain,” Bard said. “Quiet.”

“Yes, father,” he said.

I looked around and felt a sense of familiarity again. Bard, though younger than his ancestor, looked liked him—brown hair with soft green eyes—and Thorin looked a great deal like Thorin Oakenshield—his long brown hair and beard surrounding eyes of blue.

We reached two great doors opened by several guards. Before us stood a beautiful maiden with golden hair and sharp brown eyes.

“This is my wife, Aurëwyn,” Bard said, taking her hand.

“It is an honor to finally meet you both,” she said bowing.

“Finally,” I asked as everyone was shown to our places.

“Yes,” she said taking her seat. “I have heard many things about your kingdom from my father. His father’s uncle had been there once. I wish they were here now. They both died in the war.”

“I am sorry to hear it,” I said. “What was his name, if I may ask?”

“Haldúir, Your Majesty,” she said. “He was a very old but dear man. He fell at the gates of Erebor beside King Brand and King Dáin. It was foolish of me, but I think he wished to die. He had not been the same since his beloved wife died. Arímë was her name. I do not remember her. She died a long time ago.”

My heart sank in that moment. I could not help but see Arímë’s face in my mind. Êlúriel’s expression seemed stoic hearing the name of her cousin. I looked across to see Elranduil’s expression—it was the same as my own I was sure.

“Well, tomorrow we shall lay the dead to rest,” Thorin said. “We shall honor them for their deeds foolish or otherwise.”

There was an unsettling silence as we dined together. When we were finished, we were shown our quarters for the night. Lit by lanterns, the stone walls were covered with fine tapestries. Êlúriel prepared for the evening as I watched day fall to night and the moonrise casting a gentle light throughout the valley.

I felt shame again. I wish I had let Arímë see her grandchildren again. I believed it must have taken her life never to see Nenduîl and Tárimë again. As I thought, I heard a knock at the door.

“Enter,” I said. It was Fëaluin. “What is it?”

“I know what you are thinking, Thranduil,” he said. “I always do.”

“You are worse than Eldôr,” I said.

“Then might I suggest you think more quietly,” he said.

I could hear a soft laugh as Êlúriel walked into an adjoining chamber.

“I wonder if Aurëwyn knew her father’s father’s uncle was married to one that was once one of us,” I said. “Perhaps that is why she told us her story.”

“No, she does not,” he said coming to me. “Bard said as much.”

“I do not understand,” I said.

“Men may die never to return, but they leave many tales behind from one generation to the next. His father told him and his father before him and his father before him.”

“Bard knew of this?”

“Of course he did,” Fëaluin said. “Whether he knew of her relation to Êlúriel I do not know.”

“I feel horrible,” I said. “Arímë must have died of a broken heart.”

“Your conscience is clear,” he said. “She died from whatever took her daughter.”

“Is there any place left in this world where death does not linger,” I asked.

“I am afraid not, Thranduil,” he said. “It will always linger for it has nothing but time to do so.”

We spoke no more that night. After a while, he left me alone with my thoughts. Êlúriel watched me from across the room. Looking into the shadow of Erebor, all I wished to do was return home.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-20-17

Chapter XXV: (EXT) Battle in the North (Pt. II)

“I entered my study filled with my council and my commanders stoically waiting for me. As they bowed, Fëaluin took his place at my side by my table with the princes of the realm. I took my seat and motioned to Eldôr.

“His Majesty will lead small few warriors against the orcs at the borders, but the rest will leave before the sun rises toward Dol Guldur and await the elven forces from Lothlórien.”

“Who will lead them,” Nimlos asked.

“Tarthôn,” I said. “And with him will go Ardôr, Orísil, Aruilos and Elendôr.”

Tarthôn looked at me and nodded.

“Once our fight is done, we will join you,” Eldôr continued.

“And who will protect the palace then,” Elendôr asked.

“The guard, of course,” Fëaluin answered. “There is no need to engage them unless there is a direct threat.”

“My brother and I will see to that,” Elenadar said. “Do not worry for your family. Concern yourself with your return. You will stand against an evil like no other. Save your strength and your thoughts on that.”

The doors of the study opened and closed and voices were heard speaking in whispers. I stood up as for elves walked out of the shadows and stood before me. I looked at Fëaluin—his face fell into his hands.

“Oh no,” he whispered.

Before us stood Sîrandor, Sîrandír and their twin cousins Sílrandor and Sûlrandír.

“My sons,” Elenatar and Elenadar said approaching their children.

“Your Majesty,” Sílrandor began. “We have returned to fight. The words of war are on the lips of everyone.”

“Even in Mithlond,” Sûlrandír said.

“Does your mother know you have returned,” Elenadar asked.

“Yes, Ada,” Sîrandír answered. “She and Elenlúin have long since sailed.”

“We did not come alone,” Sîrandor said.

“We came together, Sîrandor,” Sílrandor said.

“You know what he means, Brother,” Sûlrandír answered.

“Please, do not stand so close to one another,” Fëaluin said. “Any one of you.”

“Sorry, Ada,” Elenatar said as the stepped away aside. From behind them Êlenuil stepped forward and bowed reverently.

“Êlenuil,” Ardôr said.

“Yes, Ada,” he said. “I have returned to fight beside my brother and my king.”

Elranduil looked at me—a smile slowly crossing his face as he attempted to conceal it from everyone. I came from my place and stood before Êlenuil. I looked at him and thought of his children sleeping in their room not far from mine. I was proud of him but could not find the words.

“Then you will ride with your brother,” I said.

He smiled and bowed and went to his father and brother happily.

I motioned for Tatháron to come. He came quickly.

“You know what I will ask of you,” I whispered. “Do it quickly.”

He bowed and left quickly.

“Where have you sent Tatháron,”  Fëaluin asked quietly.

“To fetch something for Êlenuil,” I said. “He will need it far more than I will.”

I looked around the room the elves in my presence. I knew them all since my youth and others since I became king. As they spoke among themselves, I thought about things my father had told me. I had seen so much—through part of one age and nearly all of another. I knew then I would return home again one last time from the field of battle.

“Let us not tarry any longer,” I said. “As I speak an army of orcs march toward our gates. They are not the first but they will be the last. Tarthôn, I would like a word with you. Everyone else to your place.”

As the room emptied, Tarthôn stood before me.

“Yes, Ada,” he asked. “What did you wish to say to me?”

“I wished to say that you will see me again,” I said. “When I ride to you toward Dol Guldur.”

“I know,” he said. “And I will fight beside you as my father before me. I look forward to that moment.”

“I look forward to the moment you return home to your family,” I said. “Should I not return, it is you that should welcome your brother home in my place.”

“No,” he said.

“Do as I ask, Tarthôn,” I said.

“No,” he said. “I will not do what you will be able to do on your own. You will return home. You always have and you always will. When we return, we can both be here to welcome Legolas home.”

I embraced him tighter than I had before as I felt tears come to my eyes. I had no words that could express the pride I felt for Tarthôn in that moment. I remembered the first time I held him as an infant and every moment thereafter but none as powerful as that moment. I did not want to let him go, but I did slowly.

“I will see you soon,” he said as he bowed. “Until then, Namárië.”

He turned and left quickly. I stood alone waiting for my servants to bring my armor. When the door opened again it was Êlenuil.

“Yes, Êlenuil,” I said.

“How are my children,” he asked softly. “I wanted to know before I went into battle.”

“You know where they sleep,” I said. “Why not go to them. I am sure they would want to see you. I know you want to see them.”

“Let them sleep,” he said. “I just want to know how they are.”

“They are very well,” I said. “They are growing quickly as children will.”

“Should I live, I will return to Mithlond, Thranduil,” he began. “I still carry her memory in my mind and I am afraid my children will make it worse.”

“You wish me to pretend I never saw you this day or any other,” I asked. “You do not want your children to know you fought valiantly for them and this kingdom?”

“No,” he said. “I know you, Thranduil. You will speak of it to them no matter what I ask. It is not in your nature to keep anything from anyone.”

“I keep many things to myself,” I answered. “It is just never the truth.”

“I ask this because I know I will see them again,” he said. “But not in this world. This world has taken from me many things I do not care to remember.”

“It has for me as well, Êlenuil,” I answered. “Many things I have lost and do not care to remember. But I do remember. I have to remember because should I forget, I will not know what I am fighting to keep. This world has taken my father, my friends and more of my people than I can count. But it also has given me my father, my friends and my people. I lived with them and loved them and they gave me strength to live long after they were gone. You have everything to lose for your fear of remembering what you lost rather than what you have left.”

“I am not as strong as you,” he said. “You are the great Thranduil. They speak of you beyond these borders with such fervor. There is no one quite like you in all of Arda. Not among elven nor men nor dwarves. There will never be a star that will rise or fall brighter than you. Not even the Everstar. All I ask is you not tell Nenduîl and Tárimë I was not here so that they can remember the father that left them never to return.”

“You told them you would never return, did you not,” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“I will not tell them that I saw you or even said your name,” I began. “But if I grant you that request, then you will grant me one as well.”

“Anything,” he said.

“You will not leave this world without your children.”

He stared at me—his eyes filled with tears that did not fall until that moment. I knew he could not refuse my request—not one given by his king.

“When the time comes, I will send them to Mithlond and then you will sail with them into Aman. Do I have your word?”

He nodded slowly as the doors opened again with my servants carrying my armor.

“I will see you at Dol Guldur,” I said. “Go see Tatháron. He has something for you.”

He bowed and left as Fëaluin, Eldôr, Elranduil and Nimlos returned while I was being dressed. Eldôr was in his armor as he always had been before a battle. “I know better than to ask why Êlenuil left in fear for his life,” Elranduil said. “He will tell Ardúin and I will hear it eventually.”

“Sîrandor, Sîrandír, Sílrandor and Sûlrandír will join the palace guard and will stay behind with me,” Fëaluin said as he rolled scrolls together quickly. “Please return quickly. I love my grandsons very much but I can only be around them for so long before I will lose what sanity I have left.”

“I will return for you as soon as I can then,” I answered. “I cannot have the head of my council lose what sanity he has left.”

“Or what he was born with,” Elranduil said to himself.

“Elranduil,” Eldôr said.

Nimlos laughed as he stood before me.

“So here we are again,” he said. “Off to fight another battle. I must say, I never thought I would enjoy fighting beside you but that was before I got to know you.”

“You mean before you got to know Elranduil,” I said.

“Thranduil,” Eldôr said looking over a scroll.

“At least I can hit a moving target with an arrow,” Elranduil said as servants began to dress him and Nimlos.

“The trees never fared well with Thranduil around,” Fëaluin said handing off a scroll to a guard.

“Fëaluin,” Eldôr began. “This is why I returned. None of you have changed since you were children.”

“Thranduil has,” Elranduil said. “He has gotten taller.”

Nimlos and Fëaluin laughed as Elmîr entered.

“Yes, Elmîr,” I said as servants began to leave one by one after finishing their task.

“Aradin has taken the north side of the river,” he said. “Father and I will remain with you from here to Dol Guldur. Aramír, Aramoth, Findôl, and Sildôr will take North, South, East and West. Nînuir has accompanied Tarthôn and the others to Dol Guldur. Eldúir will stay to defend the palace.  Árelë sent word of a force of Easterlings seen moving toward Dale from the south. Better cover ourselves on all sides.”

“Thank you, Elmîr,” I said.

We stood in silence as the last of the servants left and we stood dressed in our armor looking at one another. I took a deep breath.

“Look after my children until I return, Fëaluin,” I said. “Look after Êlúriel.”

“Yes, Thranduil,” he said.

“Once more,” I said. “Let us fight once more.”

Eldôr, Elranduil, Nimlos and Elmîr followed me out of my study and into the hall toward the main gates. As they opened for us, I could see that dawn had not yet come. We walked into the darkness—the air still crisp and cool and not yet filled with the rancid stench of orcs but the sound of their feet had begun to shake the earth beneath our feet. We would take them face-to-face and ride later to Dol Guldur. Armored elven warriors stood prepared to fight again. 

We took our positions at the furthest distance west of the bridge and waited for darkness to fade into the light of day. We waited patiently for our first battle during the War of the Ring to begin.

The dawn seemed to come slowly but the anticipation had risen before with the sounds of orcs marching through the forest—their monstrous feet crushing the earth beneath them.  I nodded and Elranduil and Eldôr to take position. We planned to surround them and kill all that dared to march upon Mirkwood. I could hear the faint sound of the archers pulling their bowstrings from across the Forest River.

As the sun’s first light, the glamhoth broke through the trees. Arrows flew through the air as our two armies began fighting fiercely. No sooner had I put down one, another appeared in his place. For hours there was nothing but the sound of metal clashing and battle cries until silence had fallen. I stood wading in the corpses of orcs—not one elf did I see. I began to worry that I was the last to survive.

“It is done,” I heard a distant voice say. “Decidedly so, Father.”

I looked to see Elranduil and Eldôr approaching—their armor covered in orc blood.

“Do not think this is over,” Eldôr said.

“Nimlos,” I cried. “Where are you?”

I looked in every direction and saw only figures shrouded in the mists of dusk. I began to fear the worst as I fell to my knees and started pushing the dead aside in a futile search.

“Thranduil,” a voice said. “What are you doing?” It was Elranduil standing with Elmîr.

“I am looking for Nimlos,” I said frantically.

“Why would I be down there,” Nimlos asked.

I quickly turned to see him standing at my right beside Sildúr. I sighed deeply as I rose to my feet.

“I thought you had fallen,” I said.

“When that day comes, I will tell you,” Nimlos said smiling.

“How did we fare, Father,” Elmîr asked.

“Very well,” Sildúr answered. “There are wounded but none shall die.”

I sheathed my sword and wearily headed for the palace. At the end of the bridge, I saw the gates open—the last thing I remember before I fainted.

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

It was night when I returned to consciousness. I was laying on my bed my chest in pain, dressed tightly around me.

“How are you feeling,” I heard Fëaluin say from across the room.

“He will live,” Êlúriel said as she stroked my hair.

“What happened,” I asked.

“You were victorious,” he said. “As to be expected. I noticed you were missing a piece of your armor. That would explain your wound. It was not deep but you lost enough blood to faint.”

“I gave my mithril to Êlenuil,” I said slowly sitting upright. “He needed it far more than me.”

He walked to the foot of the bed and stood looking at me—his face lost in thought.

“I thought you did something of the sort,” he said. “You are just like Oropher.”

“How do you mean, Fëaluin,” I asked. “How am I like my father?”

“He gave his to you so long ago,” he said. “The difference is you survived to see another day but even Oropher would not have been surprised. You are a worthy warrior.”

“I almost died,” I said, my thoughts trapped in the past. “I could have died.”

“You did not die and you will not die, I am sure of it.”

“He will never die,” Êlúriel said. “He is too stubborn.”

He walked to the door and paused for a moment.

“Do you feel well enough to receive company,” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “Who calls for me?”

He smiled and tapped the doors. One cracked open enough for Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin to slip inside.

“You are alive,” Tárimë said happily as she and brother ran to embrace me.

I winced in pain as Fëaluin smiled and left us with the children.

“Yes, I am, Tárimë,” I said. “But do be careful.”

“Very careful, children,” Êlúriel said. “He is wounded.”

“You came back as you said,” Nenduîl said, climbing on the bed with his sister. “I knew you would return.”

“You did not,” Tárimë said. “You spent the day crying like a little child. I told you he would return but you did not believe me.”

“I did not cry,” he said quietly. “That was Aranduil.”

“Was not,” she said.

“You are not died,” Eärluin said, poking me.

“It does not matter now,” I said trying hard not to laugh. “I am here now and it is late. Time for bed.”

“Can we stay with you, Ada,” Tárimë asked sweetly. “We can look after you.”

“Your Ada needs his rest,” Êlúriel said. “You may see him tomorrow.” 

“Yes, Nana” they said sadly, hanging their little heads as they climbed down from the bed and walked slowly to the door.

“They can stay for a little while,” I whispered to Êlúriel.

“Are you not afraid to wake up and have their husbands and wife between us,” she whispered back. “You may stay for a little while.”

The children turned around and excitedly returned and curled up around me.

“Wake us up should you need to,” Nenduîl said in a commanding tone. “And we will ring the servants for you.” 

They had made up their minds and started to nestle on either side of me. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched them fall asleep. I closed my eyes for moment thinking about all that had happened. I looked at Êlúriel sitting on the bed next to Tárimë, smiling at me.

“Êlúriel, I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you more, Thranduil,” she said.

“That is not possible,” I said.

She leaned over and kissed me again.

“Welcome home,” she said.

“It is good to be home,” I said. “Very good.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-20-17

Chapter XXV: (EXT) Battle in the North (Pt I)

“At first light, Celeborn, Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin left for Lothlórien with the escorts chosen for them. Fëaluin stood with me as we watched them disappear beneath the forest brush before us.

“I grow tired of war, Fëaluin,” I said. “I do not think I can fight another battle.”

“You can and you will,” he said. “This war is unlike any we have seen or will see again. There is not a creature in this world that must bear arms against this evil.”

“It seems I lost my father and Melros not more than a day ago,” I said. “Now Legolas is out there somewhere doing what I must do once more. If I can fall in his place, then at least I will find some peace.”

“You will not fall,” he said. “You are not destined to fall.”

“How do you know this, Fëaluin,” I asked.

“My father told me that when you were born, Oropher said that his son would be the last great elven king in all of Arda.”

“Father said many things,” I answered. “Most of which while he had a bit too much miruvor to drink.”

“You are still here, are you not?”

“But for how long, Fëaluin,” I asked.

Soon Aranduil approached me and lifted his arms to me. I picked him up. He had just awoken and still in his nightclothes.

“Yes, Aranduil,” I asked. “What can I do for you?”

“Hold me, please,” he yawned.

Fëaluin laughed.

“Your great grandson seems to take after his other great grandfather.”

“Which one,” I asked. “Elranduil or Nimlos?”

“Must you ask, Thranduil,” he asked smiling.

We made our way into the palace just as Aradúlin came to me. I handed Aranduil to her.

“He seemed to have wandered away from the others this morning,” she said. 

“He is rather anxious this morning with all this talk of war.”

“How would he know of such things,” I asked.

“He wanders everywhere with Nenduîl and Tárimë. Where you go they will follow.”

This news disturbed me for I did not wish them to worry more than I knew they already had.

“Where are they now, Aradúlin,” I asked.

“I believe Linurial said they were in your chambers,” she answered.

“Yes,” Aranduil said. “They are in there. Nana, I am hungry.”

“Of course,” she said. She bowed and went her way with her son.

“I need to have a word with Nenduîl and Tárimë,” I said.

“Plenty, I would say,” Fëaluin said. He took his leave to my study and I went to my chambers.

I found Nenduîl and Tárimë resting in my bed—just waking for the morning. I sat beside Nenduîl on the bed as he slowly sat upright. “Nenduîl, have you been listening when you should not,” I asked as Tárimë sat up.

“Yes, Ada,” he said. “I want to know why you are leaving.”

“I am not leaving,” I said. “Not for some time. You should not listen on others without permission.”

“Why are you going away,” Tárimë asked. “Are you going away forever?”

“No, Tárimë,” I said. “I will return. But I must protect you, your sisters and everyone in Mirkwood from danger. You must not worry about such things.”

“Why not,” Nenduîl asked. “What if you die and never come back?”

“I do not know this nor do you,” I said. “You cannot worry about such things. I am here now.”

“You have to come back,” Nenduîl said. “Who will take care of us if you are gone?”

“I will take care of you,” I said. “I will return to you.”

“You promise you will, Ada,” Tárimë asked, crawling across the bed to embrace me.

“I once made a promise to return a long time ago and I kept it,” I said. “So I will make the same promise to you. I will return to you.”

“Then you will,” Nenduîl said. “You always keep your promises.”

“I try to keep them as I can,” I said.

As he embraced me, I thought as far as I could remember on all things I had promised to do. Each time I had kept my word and I wondered how I was able to do so. Then I realized how much I loved every one of them and would have done anything for them. Love had kept me from despair through many tragedies to keep my word. I knew I would again return home.

“You two must promise me something in return,” I said.

“Yes,” Tárimë asked.

“You must stop listening on whatever I say to others,” I said. “It is not for you to hear.”

“Then why do you say it so loud,” Nenduîl asked. “Sometimes we can hear you in the hall.”

I heard soft laugh come from no where.

“I will try better to speak softly if you promise to keep your ear from the door.”

“Yes, Ada,” they said sadly.

I heard the soft laughter once more and it was hard not to laugh in return.

“Now, it is time for you to eat,” I said. Go on. Aranduil is already in the dining hall I am sure.”

They quickly jumped off the bed and ran out the door.

“Êlúriel, you may come out now.”

She walked from behind her divider—a wide smile upon her face.

“I told you were loud,” she said as Elranduil peeked in. She kissed my cheek before walking out as he came in.

“I am not loud,” I shouted at her as her laughter reverberated through the hall.

“I hear Aranduil came to you this morning,” Elranduil said sitting beside me. 

“What did he say to you?”

“Hold me, please,” I answered.

“Oh,” he answered. “You realize he gets that from you. You were always doing that.”

“I beg your pardon,” I asked. “I never did such a thing.”

“You would always have to be held by Nimeithel every chance you could find—even in audience. But you eventually grew out of it once you were married.”

I looked at him crossly for a time before taking a pillow to his head.

“Well it is true,” he said, taking a pillow and hitting me back.

As we were partaking in a childish game, we hardly noticed Eldôr and Fëaluin standing inside the doorframe watching us.

“I was just having a word with Thranduil, Father,” Elranduil said hitting me one last time.

“I can see that, son,” Eldôr said. “Have you finished or would you care to continue your conversation?”

“No,” he said. “I have said all that was needed to be said.”

I hit him once more before putting down the pillow.

“Mirkwood’s greatest king,” Fëaluin said smiling.

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

I stared at my armor for what seemed a lifetime as I sat alone in the familiar workshop of the smiths. It was my third and my last suit I would wear into battle. I could see years of wars in its reflection. I remembered the fallen and the blood-soaked fields where they fell. 

All things tragic and all things beautiful seemed to happen the day before no matter how long it had been. When you remember them, they are more than memory—they are reminders of why we continue to live. They are the hopes we hold onto for better days before us. They keep us from dying even when that is all we want to do.

“How do you like it,” I heard Tatháron ask. “It should fit you well.”

“It resembles my father’s,” I answered. “The one he died in during the War of the Last Alliance.”

“It was commissioned by your father for you when you became king,” he said. “My father created it. After Oropher was killed he made me and my mother swear never to allow you to see it. But it was Eldôr that asked me to bring it forward for you after Celeborn left.”

“Why,” I asked.

“Your mother asked him to do so if there came another great battle,” he said.

“Well, should I die, I should fall as my father, then.”

“You will not fall,” he said. “You are a great warrior.”

“Great warriors fall, Tatháron,” I said. “I have seen it happen time and again.”

“True, but not you,” he said.

He went from the room and returned with a mail of mithril.

“No,” I said. “Give it to Tarthôn.”

“He already has his own,” he said smiling. “All the princes have their own. I wish for my grandson to return as well.”

“Of course,” I smiled. “Elendôr.”

“Tárwen held me to my word to watch over Ninyáre and her sons before she left with Mîráre for Aman. At least one of them has gone to them.”

I could not tell him that Êlenuil was in Mithlond so I smiled and nodded.

“I will not ask how you came by so much mithril,” I said. “Know that I am grateful for it.”

I rose to leave to return to my study.

“When you return from battle,” Tatháron began, “What will you do?”

“I will not leave this world,” I said. “Not until I know what has become of Legolas. Only then will I decide.”

I walked out of the foundry into the falling night. It was cool but the warmth of spring begun to emerge. It was night such as this long ago that after emerging from the caves, I met with Êlúriel before going to battle.

As I thought about her—wandering through the gardens in her flowing white dress her hair carrying the breeze gently beneath the night sky, I made my way toward my palace. It was quiet except for the creatures of the night lamenting the stars. From a distance I could see someone waiting at the gates.

When I grew closer, I realized it was Nimlos sitting upon the stone railing looking down into the river waters.

“Why are you out this evening,” I asked as I approached him. “I would think you would be with Sildúriel.”

“She is with Aruilos,” he said. “This will be his first battle. I cannot blame her concern. I worry as well. Perhaps even more. He is my only son.”

“I know how you must feel,” I said. “One son is out in the world and the other will join yours in battle.”

“My daughter would join him if it were not for Aranduil,” he said. “We both know how difficult Ëariâth can be.”

“She loves Tarthôn,” I said. “I could not ask for a better wife for my son.”

“I know you are thinking about more than your sons,” he said.

“Yes,” I said. “I am worried about Isílriel. She is as stubborn as her mother. That is not a secret easily kept.”

“True, Thranduil,”  he answered. “She is reminds me of Êlúriel’s mother Annariel. Born fighters, this clan.”

I laughed remembering my little Isilya eagerly watching her brothers practicing with their bows and always wanting to join them. Then my thoughts drifted to Êlúriel.

“Before we went to Dagorlad, I promised Êlúriel I would return to her,” I said. “I kept my word but I what if I cannot keep my word this time?”

“You always keep your word,” Nimlos said. “I have always liked that about you.” I smiled remembering when we first met.

“Besides,” I said. “If I did not keep my word Êlúriel would scold me for it and would never allow me to forget.”

Nimlos laughed.

“She inherited that from her mother, I am afraid. Poor Uncle. Whenever he had words with his wife, everyone could tell by the look on his face. I find it rather amusing to see that same look on Aramoth’s face after he has words with my sister.”

“It must run in your family,” I said laughing. “She may be young, but Tárimë is quite adept at it as well.”

We laughed together for a moment. I began to feel like myself for a moment. “Ada,” a voice said.

We turned to see Nenduîl running toward us. He leapt into my arms and embraced me.

“Why are you out this late,” I asked “Is your sister sleeping?”

“Yes, Ada,” he said. “I was looking for you.”

“You have found me, Nenduîl,” I said. “Shall I take you to bed?”

“Look, Thranduil,” Nimlos said.

I looked to see Arawë and Aldáros coming toward us frantically. Still winded, they bowed before me.

“Your Majesty,” Arawë began. “Randumîr sent word that a horde of glamhoth march this way and will arrive by morning.”

“What else did he say,” I asked.

“One horde attacked the borders of Lothlórien not long after Lord Celeborn returned,” Aldáros said. Another attack they will endure tomorrow.”

Nimlos and I looked at one another concerned.

“Follow Nimlos into the palace,” I commanded. “I must do something first.

Nimlos, call after Fëaluin and will come to you in my study.”

They bowed and all of them made their way into the palace.

“Will you fight tomorrow, Ada,” Nenduîl asked.

“Yes, Nenduîl,” I said carrying him toward the main gates. “I will fight tomorrow.”

“Will you win,” he asked as I entered the palace and walked toward his chambers.

“Yes,” I said. “I would not worry but you and your sister must stay inside the palace. Give me your word.”

He nodded as his chamber doors were opened and I tucked him into bed. I looked upon him for a moment then kissed his forehead. 

“Sleep,” I said. “I will see you when I return.”

He nodded and drifted off. I went to Tárimë and kissed her as she slept. As I was leaving, I heard a voice.

“I will be here when you come back,” Tárimë whispered. “I promise, Ada.” I turned and smiled then quickly left to prepare for battle. On my way down the hall, I was met by Êlúriel.

“Go on, my love,” she said softly. “I will see you upon your return.”  

I kissed her.

“Do not leave the palace,” I commanded. “Give me your word.”

“I will remain in the palace,” she said, smiling. “I give my word.”

I kissed her again and quickly made my way down the hall.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-20-17

Chapter XXIV: (EXT) Call from Lothlórien (Pt. I)

“Coirë seemed delayed with the waning of hrívë. Darkness lingered far longer and the winds blew cold as ice. I knew it was morning, but clouds blanketed the skies tightly and not a ray of sun could break through. The halls of the palace were silent as I walked slowly toward my study.

“Ada,” Tarthôn said, startling me as he stepped from inside.

“Tarthôn,” I said. “You frightened me.”

“I apologize,” he said. “You are early. Where are Nenduîl and Tárimë? Did they stay with you last night?”

“No,” I said. “What are you saying to me?”

“Ëariâth and Aradúlin cannot find either of them or Aranduil anywhere. I thought he may have followed them into your chamber.”

Without a word, I walked toward the main gates as swiftly as I could. They opened the doors and walked outside as the blistering winds rushing across my face like the claw of a wild beast. I knew where I was headed but I did not know why. I cross the bridge—hearing the voices of Elendôr and Tarthôn behind me.

“Where are you going, Thranduil,” Elendôr asked. “Why would they come out at this hour?”

I stopped abruptly—standing before the grave of Súlelenth looking down at five small children.

Tárimë looked up—her face calm even as mine gave her stern look.

“Tárimë,” I began calmly. “Why are you here?”

“Because,” she said. “I wanted to show Eärluin where our mother was.”

“She is in there,” Auríel asked bewildered.

“Yes, Auríel” Aranduil said. “She is in there.”

“Sleeping,” Eärluin said.

“I do not understand,” Tarthôn said.

Elendôr picked up Auríel as I settled down before the others—four little innocent faces looking at me without fear of anything I might say to them.

“I know you meant well Tárimë,” I said softly. “But you should not venture outside alone so early. It is very dangerous.”

“But Eärluin wanted to know,” Nenduîl said.

Eärluin pointed to her mother’s tomb. I did not know what to do—I was beside myself in turmoil as I tried to understand what their little minds were going through.

“I understand,” I began. “But you should have come to me first, Nenduîl.” 

I felt the presence of shadow above me. I looked up and saw three elves standing before me. I stood up and they bowed before me. They were dressed in blue cloaks—their hoods over their heads.

“Your Majesty,” one of them said. “We have come to you from Lothlórien.” As Tarthôn picked up Aranduil, Nenduîl and Tárimë hid behind me as I took Eärluin’s hand.

“Who has sent you,” I asked cautiously.

One of them stepped forward and removed his hood. His eyes were as the morning sky and his long hair near the color of mine.

“Lord Celeborn, Your Majesty,” he said. “I am Haldir. These are my brothers, Rúmil and Orophin.”

Rúmil and Orophin removed their hoods.

“You are king now,” Rúmil said. “It has been a long time.”

“Rúmil,” a voice behind them said. “Watch your tongue. You are in the presence of royalty.”

The three moved and another stepped forward.

“Celeborn,” I said. “This is a surprise.”

“Yes,” he said. “And not a pleasant one, I am afraid.”

“What is wrong,” I asked. “And where is Galadriel?”

“She is well,” he said. “Safe, I assure you. That is far less than I can say for the rest of us.”

“Come,” I said. “We shall speak inside. Your presence will alarm the forest and as you know Mirkwood has eyes and ears all around.”

“I know,” he said. “They seemed to have wandered as far as Lothlórien.”

Tarthôn motioned to Nenduîl and Tárimë as I picked up Eärluin as Celeborn walked with me to the palace with Haldir and his brothers close behind.

“Why are your Marchwardens so far from your borders,” I whispered.

“Borders give little comfort now, Thranduil,” he answered. “Evil seems to have found its way to the borders of Lothlórien. Orcs rose from Dol Guldur--though in far less numbers than before the Battle of Dale. They were seen not long after Legolas had come to us when we had taken notice. They bide their time to lay siege upon us and I fear it may be soon.”

I stopped right before the gates at sound of my son’s name.

“You have seen my son, Legolas,” I asked. “Was he well?”

“Quite well,” he answered. “He travels with Aragorn of course and another man. Boromir, son of Denethor steward of Gondor as with a dwarf named Gimli, son of Glóin from the House of Durin.”

“Do not forget the four halflings,” Haldir said. “Four Hobbits.”

“Yes, I remember,” Celeborn said smiling. “One of them is a relation to a friend of yours. Frodo Baggins, nephew of a certain Bilbo Baggins.”

We entered the gates as Ëariâth and Aradúlin approached us with Eldôr and Fëaluin. They bowed to Celeborn.

“Lord Celeborn,” Fëaluin said. “We have been expecting you.”

“We have,” I asked.

Everyone looked at me oddly.

“You were out of the palace, Thranduil,” Eldôr said. “You went looking for Nenduîl and Tárimë.”

“Yes, of course,” I said. “And look who else I found?”

“Brilliant recovery, cousin,” Celeborn whispered.

“Thank you,” I whispered back.

“Come, children,” Ëariâth said. “It is time to eat.”

“I think we all should have something to eat before take on the worries of the world,” Fëaluin said.

“Ëariâth, take Eärluin to Êlúriel,” I said, handing her over. “She must be worried.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said.

As the children were led away, the rest of us made our way to the dining hall. All the way I thought of Legolas.

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

After breakfast, Fëaluin settled Celeborn and his escorts as I waited for Celeborn in my study.

“You are deep in thought,” Súriar said from across the room. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” I said softly. “I am awaiting Celeborn.”

“Celeborn, brother of Galathil,” he said. “Father wrote much of him. Do you require that I leave upon his arrival?”

“No, Súriar,” I answered. “What we discuss should be made record. Celeborn would agree with me.”

“Yes, I would,” I heard him say from behind.

I turned to see him and Eldôr and Elranduil alongside. He had made a change, dressed in a long silver coat of embroidered leaves of his kin. He took a seat by the balcony beside Eldôr as Elranduil leaned against one of the pillars nearby.

“It has been some time since I saw you last,” I said. “Things have changed, but I am quite sure you know of it.”

“Your household and your people have grown much since then,” Celeborn said. “Your father would be proud of you.”

“Yes, much has changed since Eryn Galen became known as Mirkwood,” I said.

 “How is it that my kingdom and my people were punished for an evil over which we had no control?"

“It was not your kingdom we were concerned about, Thranduil,” he began. “It was to warn those in Arda that may attempt to traverse through the Rhovanion and meet with dire consequence.”

“And should one meet with me, they would come before the Elvenking,” I growled quietly.

“The evil that rose in Dol Guldur was palpable.”

“My father died fighting that evil,” I said angrily. “You were not there when I saw that evil with my own eyes at Dagorlad. I lost my name and my kingdom for that evil—as if we brought that evil into this world. Our people have been forced to live in darkness of that evil while our kin in the west condemned us for that evil only to be asked to sacrifice my son and heir to that evil.”

Celeborn stood up and walked over to me.

“I understand your anger, Thranduil,” he said softly. “I cannot undo what has been done."

"There is no name that will keep those who wish to cross into our borders away if determined,” I said. "Thorin Oakenshield found his way to Erebor and lost his life fighting against the evil no name could contain.” 

“That evil remains palpable,” Eldôr said. “We know that what comes from Dol Guldur has its roots in Mordor.”

“Where it has returned,” Celeborn answered. “Where the Fellowship goes to destroy the ring that keeps us all beneath this shadow.”

“Yes,” I said. “Elrond sent word throughout Arda for the bravest out from every kingdom. My son is on his way to Mordor to rid this world of an evil the Alliance failed to bring down at Dagorlad and unite the kingdom of Gondor as Aragorn is its rightful king."

“The evil that took Thorin and his father still flows from Dol Guldur,” Celeborn said. “Between there and Mordor lies Angrenost where Curunír has taken arms against his calling.”

“I am well aware of this,” I said.

“Lothlórien will be their next conquest,” he said sternly. 

“Why would the orcs take the chance to cross from Dol Guldur to the borders of Lothlórien,” Elranduil asked. “There are Beorings on our western borders not to mention our Marchwardens.”

“Not anymore,” Eldôr said. “The Beorings’ numbers are sparse at best. It is rumored some have ventured as far as Rohan.” 

“Power,” I began. “Sauron will use anyone or anything as a means to gain power over Arda for his master. The danger he presents to us is his relentless pursuit for power. His minions will do his bidding. They will give their life for something they will never have for someone that will never give it to them.”

“If it is not defeated,” Celeborn began. “Only then will th whole of Arda will fall into shadow and it will be unstoppable. Put aside your anger with me, Thranduil. If only to unite with Lothlórien to protect our borders. You know if they lay siege upon us, there is nothing that will keep them from doing the same to you.”

I stood looking at Celeborn for a moment. I knew he was right and he knew that I knew. 

“Very well, Celeborn,” I said. “You have my word. Elranduil, send for Aramoth and Randúmîr. Who covers your East?”

“Haldir,” Celeborn said.

“I shall send for Sildôr,” Eldor said, rising to follow Elranduil away. “He has given Arawë charge of our western defenses.”

I nodded and they left.

“He will serve you well,” Súriar said, bowing to us. “Arawë is my daughter’s son. If I may, Your Majesty, I wish to take my leave.” “Of course, Súriar,” I said softly.

“We can defeat this shadow, Thranduil,” Celeborn says.

“We have to defeat it,” I answered. “We have no choice but to defeat it.”

Celeborn nodded and took his leave from my study. It had not been long since I last saw battle and I knew this would be unlike anything I would see again. It was the defining hour for the entire world.

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

I decided some time in the gardens would do me well. From the balcony, I could see Nenduîl and Tárimë playing below. I thought of all the times I left for war—leaving someone behind at home or upon the field of battle as a decaying remnant.

“Ada,” I heard Tarthôn say. “Something troubles you.”

“It is nothing, Tarthôn,” I answered. “Nothing more than I always have.”

“It is war again,” he said. “This time, I will not stay home.”

“Then who shall take my place if I do not return? If Legolas does not return? You are my son as well.”

“I know,” he said. “And as such, it is my duty as your son and a prince of this realm to defend it with my life. I am ready and I am not afraid.”

Looking at him, he reminded me of Melros. He was the age his father was when he was lost at Dagorlad. I had been often more protective of him than of Legolas as my promise to his father lingered in my mind.

“You sound so much like Melros,” I said. “So valiant and brave. He knew so well he would have a son. ‘He will be a good son,’ he said to me. He was right. You are a very good son.”

He smiled and laughed.

“Fëaluin told me he would tease you mercilessly.”

“He is one to talk,” I said. “He did the same. He and his brother, Fínduin. Not without some cajoling from Elranduil, of course.”

“Stop lying to him, Thranduil,” Elranduil said approaching us. “I did no such thing. I will say it was fun to watch. Thranduil was the youngest and the smallest then.”

“You were no taller,” I said.

“True,” he said. “But I was far better looking. You can imagine awe in the court when someone agreed to marry him.”

“I thought Nana loved him,” Tarthôn said trying not laugh.

“She loves him very much, Tarthôn,” Elranduil said. “Someone had to eventually. He was very lucky.”

“That is the only truth you have spoken,” I said. “I was extraordinarily blessed.”

“Ëariâth wishes to speak with you,” he said to Tarthôn. “You will find her in the court with Ardúin.”

“Thank you,” Tarthôn said. “I will speak with you later, Ada.”

I nodded as he rushed away from us.

“He reminds me so much of Melros,” Elranduil said. “He sounds like him. If he were here, he would be burst with pride.”

“Yes, he would,” I said quietly. “Especially with Aranduil.”

“Am I to assume he has asked to go to battle,” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You cannot keep him from it,” Elranduil said. “He is a father as we are. His daughter has a son of her own. Stop blaming yourself for what happened to Melros.”

“I do not blame myself,” I said.

“Thranduil, aside from your father, your mother, my parents and your wife, I know you better than anyone.”

“I did not have a choice,” I said quietly.

“You would not change things for the world,” he said smiling. “As it is, Tarthôn wishes to ride alongside you as Ardôr and Orísil will ride beside me and Eldôr. He said as much to them after he learned Ardôr was allowing Elendôr to do so.”

I glared at him in disbelief. I could not believe what I heard.

“Should something happen to any of us, what then,” I loudly. “You wish to let the whole of our family fall to this evil?”

In the gardens below, I could see Nenduîl and Tárimë stopped playing at the sound of my voice and were looking at us.

“Thranduil, calm yourself,” Elranduil said. “Do you think I am not worried? Ardôr is my son. Elendôr is his son. If something happens to either of them, all I have is Êlenuil in Mithlond.”

“I beg your pardon,” I asked angrily. “Êlenuil is where?”

“Mithlond,” he whispered. “He sent word of his arrival. He has not sailed yet.”

I could feel my anger rising. I tried to stay composed.

“You have more than Êlenuil,” I said seething. “You have Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin—his children that he left with me for Aman and you are telling me he is still in this world?”

“I just learned of it,” he answered. “Father told Ardôr and Ninyáre. Ardúin was with them. She said you should know of it, but Ardôr would have none of that. He thought you might get angry.”

I glared at him so long, his features faded into a distorted blur. When I could recognize him again, I was calmer but no less furious.

“Elranduil,” I began slowly. “Legolas is out there on a perilous journey to face the same evil that killed my father, my wife and my best friend. Tarthôn wishes to do the same, as it is his duty as my son and a prince of this realm. I could lose both of them! If something were to happen to me, Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin would be left without me! Do you know they call me ‘Ada’?

“No.”

“They do because their father is not here and I am. Now you are telling me Êlenuil is in the Grey Havens at the very moment when this world could fall into darkness and his children with it. I am not angry, Elranduil. I am furious.”

“Are you alright, Ada,” I heard the sweetest little voice say. I turned to see Tárimë and her brother looking frightened. “Did we do something wrong?”

I picked her up and embraced her.

“No, Tárimë,” I said. “Neither one of you have done a thing. I did not mean to frighten you.”

Nenduîl took my hand. My mind was at rest and I felt myself again.

“I will speak with you later,” I said to Elranduil. “There is much to discuss before Celeborn returns to Lothlórien.”

I led Nenduîl and his sister toward their room. I decided to stay with them for the remainder of the afternoon, as I knew the evening would bring a burden I had to bear one last time.

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

It was nightfall when I made my way to my study to speak with Celeborn one last time before he would depart for Lothlórien. It would be the largest gathering to battle in centuries—since Oropher ruled Eryn Galen. As I entered my study, it was filled with members of my council and military commanders.

Celeborn, Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin waited patiently with Eldôr, Elranduil, Ardôr, Elendôr, Tarthôn, Nimlos, and Aruilos.

“Celeborn,” I said. “I trust you are well rested.”

He nodded with a smile.

Soon, Fëaluin entered with his sons Elenadar and Elenatar. Behind them came the whole my commanders: Sildúr, Elmîr, Árelë, Nînuir, Aramoth, Aramír, Sildôr, Findôl, Târuil, Tatháron, Aradin, Eldúir, Arawë, Aldáros and Randúmîr. Sildôr and Arawë stepped forward.

“I was told that Haldir of Lothlórien is Marchwarden of their eastern border,” Sildor said. “Arawë has seen many things.”

“Yes,” Haldir said as he approached him. “So he has told me. It seems Aiwendil spent a great deal of time wandering your western border but remained close to Rhosgobel until he wandered westward for a time. Long enough to allow Sauron to regain control of it.”

“When was this, Arawë,” I asked.

“I would not know, Your Majesty,” he said. “I had not yet been assigned further south than Emyn-nu-Fuin.”

“What control he gained was hardly enough to do much,” Sildôr said. “There has been far more done at Angrenost under Curunír. What lingers there are remnants of what once was. Nothing more.”

“Just enough to lay siege on the surrounding borders,” Celeborn said. “Their power is not what it was but it is enough.”

“Whatever is there will not venture east,” Árelë said softly. “I have seen nothing save a few forest creatures and an Easterling or two. Father believes their plans are definite.”

“I do,” Elmîr said. “They wish to move as far west as possible. To Rivendell if they can.”

“I hardly think they would try to get that far,” Orophin said.

“If they can put us down, they most surely can,” I said. “They know we would come to the aid of our kin.”

“Sauron relies on his stronger forces to the south,” Eldôr said. “They have far more adversaries there. He still thinks we are few in number since our loss at Dagorlad. But he is knows we can and will fight against him. The only way to know how many we are is to attack Lothlórien and how many come to its defense.”

“We can keep them well from Caras Galadhon,” Rúmil said sharply. “For how long, I cannot say.”

“They will come to us,” I said. “Of that I have little doubt. More than anyone, they wish to destroy us. We are far more dangerous to them than anyone.”

“Why is that,” Tarthôn asked.

“Sauron cannot control us,” I said. “We do not have a ring of power like Galadriel or Elrond—no matter how ineffective. Sauron fears what he cannot possess. The dwarves fared better than most. Men, I am afraid have a weakness for power. It is a gift to strong to resist when offered. For now, those with a ring remain safe unless, of course, Sauron finds the one ring before it is destroyed. Lost once the power to control the Elder Children, his vengeance will be taken and the whole of this world will suffer a great many things.”

An uneasy silence filled the air like mist after rain. I could not hear a breath taken or a heart beat. Everyone seemed lost in their thoughts. We all knew what was coming and knew this would be the final stand against this evil. Suddenly, the doors opened and the mood changed immediately as Êlúriel entered the room. I found delight watching everyone bow to her as she glided toward Celeborn.

“Lord Celeborn,” she said. “It is good to see you again no matter the circumstances. I must apologize for my absence at your arrival as my duties took me away in that moment.”

“Queen Êlúriel,” he said, bowing. “It is always a pleasure. There is no apology needed and hope our gathering has not disturbed you in any way.”

“On the contrary,” she answered. “For wherever there is a gathering of our kin, no matter what is spoken, it serves only to make me glad. Please, continue.”

“Tomorrow, take your leave to Lothlórien,” I said to Celeborn. “Sildôr, Aramoth, Arawë and Randúmîr will take you as far as the borders of Dol Guldur. Their guard will keep watch from there. As for the rest of us, we wait. For, as you know, they will come swiftly for us. Aradin, have our archers cover the guard from both sides of the river on either side of the palace gates. Findôl, Aramír, Árelë and Aldáros will cover the gates with Fëaluin, Elenadar and Elenatar.”

“I shall have my smiths set to task,” Tatháron said. He bowed and left quickly.

“As for the rest of us, we will fight against what comes,” I said.

“Lothlórien will meet Mirkwood at Dol Guldur,” Celeborn said. “We will end this.”

“I have no intention of doing anything other than ending this, Celeborn,” I answered. 

He smiled, bowed to Êlúriel and left with Haldir, Rúmil, Orophin in tow. Eldôr and Fëaluin took their leave, motioning to the rest to follow.

“You will return to me again,” she said. “When that day comes, you will return to me.”

“Always,” I said.

I embraced her—my only thought was to protect my family and my people even if it meant losing my life.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-20-17

Chapter XXIII: (EXT) Êlenuil Everstar (Pt. II)

Mirkwood became quiet again after the skirmish with the Easterlings. I knew it would not last and my council prepared for war. The guards at the southern border were multiplied and my army spent their days preparing to fight. Randúmîr recovered but rather than return to the southern borders, he was appointed to council with Aldáros. With uncertainty looming, many elves decided to begin the long journey to Mithlond.

Elenadar sent his wife Elarían away with their sons Sîrandír and Sîrandor. Her sister, Elenlúin decided to accompany her. Her husband Elenatar sent his sons Sílrandor and Sûlrandír. Fëaluin tried to convince Linurial to accompany them, but she refused to leave him.

At dawn, I watched a family tearfully say farewell once more. I thought back many centuries—now wishing Êlúriel had left with my mother and her father.

“I would never have left you,” I heard Êlúriel say to me.

“Must you always read my thoughts,” I asked smiling. “They are my last bastion of solitude.”

“Your thoughts are as loud as you are,” she said. “If not more so.”

“I know I could never persuade you to go to Eldamar,” I said. “You are too stubborn.”

“No more than any other wife,” she said. “But I am also the queen and I belong with my people.”

We looked at each other—a wave of commonality washed over us.

“You know of the attack by the Easterlings on our southern borders,” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “Fëaluin told me not long after Randúmîr was brought in.”

“What do you think of it,” I asked her.

“I know you have reinforced the southern borders as it is the most likely to be compromised,” she said. “That will not be enough, for the western borders' greatest weakness lies in the lack Beornings left to help defend it.”

She smiled and left me standing on the bridge in wonderment. As I prepared to go inside, Sildôr approached.

“Sildôr,” I said. “The elf I wanted to see.”

“Yes,” he asked.

“I think we should reinforce our western borders,” I said.

“It is done,” he answered. “I have made Arawë aware of it just now.”

“Oh,” I said surprised. “How did you know to do it?” 

“By order of Queen Êlúriel,” he said, smiling. He bowed and went on his way.

I smiled to myself as I went on about my duties. By the afternoon, I was in my study with Eldôr, Elranduil and Ardôr discussing what had transpired evening last.

“The presence of even a few Easterlings means that Dol Guldur may rise again,” Elranduil said. “Though they will not pass this way, evil rises and will come from many places.”

“We are not nearly as vulnerable to attack as others,” Eldôr said. “There is much trepidation about entering our borders. But whatever remains at Dol Guldur will only attack those beyond our borders. It is as much a curse as it is a blessing.”

“What remains at Dol Guldur is precisely the reason there is much trepidation,” Elranduil added. “You know as well as I that we are no more or less vulnerable from an attack than anyone outside our borders."

“We may be able keep some things at bay, but not others,” Ardôr said, nervously. “Father, why can you not demand Mother to leave? If she left, I know Ninyáre would follow.”

“I cannot persuade Ardúin to anything she does not wish to do, son,” Elranduil said. “Should she decide to leave for Mithlond, it will be when she is ready.”

“We need her,” I said. “There are few ladies left to attend to the wounded. That is the reason she stays. For now, they are far safer within these halls than they are traveling to Mithlond.”

“The numbers of elves willing to remain grows less and less,” Eldôr said. 

“Between here, Rivendell and Lothlórien, our numbers dwindle as war grows ever closer. They spoke of it when I returned from Mithlond after I saw Nimeithel and Valdúril on their way. Círdan spoke of many waiting upon his return from Dagorlad.”

“It is good to know they are safe,” I said softly, thinking of my mother. “I want them to remember things the way they were, not as they have become.”

“They lived through much worse, Thranduil,” he answered. “So have I. I have come to realize that evil is as much a part of the world as good.”

“There is far too much evil,” Ardôr said. “It is all around us.”

“It is here to be heard,” I said. “There is far more good in this world than evil, but it must speak louder to get our attention and we give it fully because it is easier to hear the howling of a warg than it is the fluttering of a butterfly. We should fear what we become from what frightens us. Fear is the life blood of evil—it cannot exist without it. We cannot give evil what it wants if we are to defeat it.”

“You have become wiser with age, Thranduil,” Fëaluin said as he entered.

“Pardon my intrusion, but you have more pressing issues to deal with just now.”

“What might that be,” I asked. “What could me more pressing than planning for war?”

“You are needed in audience,” he said.

“Who seeks an audience with me,” I asked, wondering whom had come into my kingdom.

“I am afraid it is you that is being called to have an audience,” he said smiling. 

“I was told that you must come straight away.”

“Who dares command me,” I said angrily.

“Nenduîl and Tárimë,” he said. “They are in their chambers waiting to speak to you.”

Immediately, I calmed down and light laughter filled the room. I looked at Ardôr.

“Do you know what this is about,” I asked him.

“No,” he answered, perplexed.

I left my study and went toward their chambers. As I approached, the guards opened the doors and I entered to find Nenduîl and Tárimë standing with Eärluin in the middle of the room together calmly.

“Nenduîl. Tárimë. Eärluin,” I asked. “Is something the matter?”

“Who are we,” Nenduîl asked softly. “Why are we different from others?”

“What do you mean,” I asked walking to them and kneeling before them. “Who told you that you were different?”

“Aranduil,” Tárimë answered. “He said that we were not like anyone else. So I hit him and sent him away.”

“Tárimë, that was not nice,” I said. “You should never hurt another—especially your cousin. I do not think he was teasing you.”

“Then it is true,” Nenduîl said. “We are different.”

“I do not want to be different,” Eärluin said frowning.

“No one likes us anymore,” Tárimë said sadly. “Do you like us?

“What are you saying,” I asked. Everyone loves you and so do I.” 

“Then why are we different,” Nenduîl asked.

“You are a boy,” Eärluin said. “I do not want to be a boy.”

“You will never become a boy, Eärluin,” I began. “And you are not different, Nenduîl. You are elves. Like Aranduil and Auríel and all the other elves in the kingdom. But you also have some of your mother inside you as well. A small part of her will always be with you.”

“We are mortal,” Tárimë said. “We will die like Nana.”

“No,” Nenduîl said angrily “I do not want to die!”

“What is die, Ada,” Eärluin asked.

“Ada,” Tárimë asked. “You are our Ada now?”  

“Ada and Nana,” Eärluin said defiantly pointing at me.

That took my breath from me. How does one explain immortality to ones so young. I was given the responsibility of their care but tried to keep their parents in their memory.

“You are,” Nenduîl said. “Ours is not here. He left us with you. Now you are Ada.”

“Yes,” Tárimë agreed. “May we call you Ada?”

“If you wish.”

“Good,” Nenduîl said. “Are we going to die?”

“I do not want to die,” Eärluin said. “What is die?"

“Die is when you sleep forever,” I said. “You can never wake up.”

“Like our other Nana,” Tárimë said. “She died.”

“What other Nana,” Eärluin asked. “Why is she died?”

“Your other Nana was ill,” I said as I struggled to explain things well beyond their understanding—even as they tried to understand. “She went to sleep, Eärluin. Forever. That is what mortals do when they fall ill or grow old.”

“Are we mortal,” Tárimë asked. “Is that why we are different?”

“You are not fully mortal, Tárimë,” I said. “The smallest part of you is mortal. The part that comes from your mother.”

“What is mortal,” Eärluin asked.

“It is what we are not,” Nenduîl said. “We will never die.”

“Elves can die as well,” I said. “By many ways, Nenduîl. But I will not let that happen to you or your sisters. You have my word.”

“That is good,” Tárimë said.

“Why do you say that,” I asked.

“Because if we were to die, we would never see you again, Ada.”

They embraced me. I felt happier than I had in a very long time. I was in love with Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin as I was with Tarthôn, Legolas and Isílriel.

“Now, go find Aranduil and apologize for hitting him,” I said to Tárimë. “I must go have a word with your Nana.”

“Tárimë hit him,” Eärluin laughing. “She hits like a girl.”

“Eärluin,” I said. “Go on with your brother and sister.”

She giggled as she ran out of the room with her siblings. I stood up and walked into the hall to find Êlúriel. I saw Isílriel speaking with Êleníel, daughter of Sildôr. She was as beautiful as Isílriel—with long golden hair and spritely blue eyes.

“Your Majesty,” Êleníel said bowing.

“Hello, Ada,” Isílriel said. “You must be looking for Nana.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Her Majesty is above us,” Êleníel said, motioning upward.

“Thank you, Êleníel,” I said. “Isílriel.”

I continued to the end of the hall and up the spiral stairwell leading to the rooms above the thrones. I noticed evening was upon us as I could see evening’s twilight revealing the  first stars of night. Several elves had begun the nightly ritual of lighting lanterns throughout the palaces. I glanced right to see Êlúriel standing by a window overlooking roaring falls starting to gleam in star and lantern light. She was wearing a long white gown with long delicate sleeves of sheer muslin; her long waves flowing behind her. She turned to see me and smiled as I approached.

“Is there anything you cannot do,” I asked her.

“How do you mean,” she asked.

“You raise our children, command our armies, keep our court and somehow manage to always look breathtakingly beautiful.”

She smiled at me then started to laugh.

“Oh, Thranduil,” she began. “You are quite possibly the worst liar in all of Arda.”

“I am not lying, Êlúriel,” I said. “I was paying a compliment to the queen.”

“To what do I owe such flattery,” she asked.

“Everything,” I said, caressing her face. “That is what you are to me.”

“And you are everything to me,” she whispered before I felt her lips on mine.  

We allowed ourselves to escape the agony and pain we had endured for months—knowing it would not be long before I saw battle again—one last time.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-18-17

Chapter XXIII: (EXT) Êlenuil Everstar (Pt. I)

Beneath the waning sky of coming night

Far away shines a distant light

One whose rise tells of days gone by

Of all of elven memories lie.

“When dawn had risen, I was in my study watching the falls and listening to the roar of the waters. I knew that Arímë and Haldúir had already left for Dale as I prepared for the day.

“Thranduil,” I heard my name called. “May I have a word.”

“Yes, Êlenuil,” I answered. “Speak.”

“They have departed,” he said. “Súlelenth’s parents.”

“And you saw them away,” I asked.

“Yes. So did Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin. They seemed sad to see them leave. They had just begun to know them. Perhaps they should see them again some time.”

“No,” I answered, turning around. “Never will they see them again. I will never see them again.”

“Nor will I,” he said softly. “I wish to leave for Mithlond at the end of the day.” “With whom will you travel,” I asked. “Your father? Your brother?”

“Alone.”

“You would leave your children with me then travel so far a distance alone, Êlenuil? Do you know the dangers you could face?”

“I know,” he said. “But I travel alone as far as Rivendell.”

I looked at him curiously, but did not inquire about what he meant.

“Have you spoken to your children,” I asked.

“I have,” he said. “I am afraid Nenduîl is angry with me. He does not believe that I love him. Tárimë seems wise beyond her years and said not a word. Eärluin does not understand.”

“She is young,” I said. “Nenduîl will recover in time. Tárimë is much like Êlúriel. She sees a great many things. Perhaps she knows your heart better than you.”

“Just like her mother,” he said. “You believe me when I say I will miss them, Thranduil?”

“Yes, I do,” I answered. “I know why you leave. I wish I could have left after I lost my father but I did not have the choice you have. I was heir to the throne. No one but me could sit on that throne. Not even your grandfather. I was the son of Oropher, King of Eryn Galen. I was born to rule this kingdom. He was its first king and I will be its last. I have ruled this kingdom for nearly three thousand years. Should I leave, I will leave as the last elven king in all of Arda, for there will never again rule another elven king in this world. I find solace in this because I have lived through many perils and though I often lost hope, I never lost my strength. In that strength, hope did arise. Whether I see you again, I do not know, but you will see your children again. I want them alone to see my mother and tell her that her son remains on the throne of his father.”

He bowed and left me alone once more. I thought about my own words for a moment. How far I had come in my life and how much I had lost and gained over time that passed so quickly for elves yet for other creatures, many generations since I came to the throne had passed and all that I known to be true was legend to them. To me, it had started to become something of a myth. My life was the only relic that was left as evidence of the truth.

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

When dusk had begun to fall, I stood with the court and the Princes of the Woodland Realm to see Êlenuil on his way. At my side stood Êlúriel and his children with the rest of our family. As he rode westward, the violet hues of the coming night began to uncover the stars above. Though the Misty Mountains obscured much of the sky, the unmistakable evening star in the west shone brightly as another was rising in the East with the moon.

Watching Êlenuil riding away took me back to the day I watched my mother leave our kingdom forever. I wondered when I would take my final journey to Mithlond and sail away to the Undying Lands. Many elves had begun taking their final journey since the flames of Mordor had risen again. My kingdom once again looked as a desolate wasteland—hollow and void of color. Autumn had come as cold as winter and the world felt the chill of evil looming.

Once inside my study, I began to read many things left to me by my father. I searched for anything that might bring some light to darkness. As long as I had lived, never had I known such evil—far stronger than what I had fought at Dagorlad. I thought of Legolas going into the world to fight what men, elves and dwarves once tried to destroy. To lose my son would put me in the ground beside my father. I found a dreadful peace in that thought and it frightened me. If thoughts of death were more inviting than life, then the world was far darker than it ever had been.

As I sat alone reading into the night, the door opened and Nenduîl came in. It was unusual to see him without his sister—they were extraordinarily close and had grown closer since their mother died.

“Why are you out of your chambers so late,” I asked barely looking away from my reading.

“I could not sleep,” he said. “I miss Nana.”

“You do not miss your father,” I asked.

“I cannot say for certain,” he answered stopping in the light of the candles on my table. “I am afraid I do not know him well at all.”

I put down my papers and looked at Nenduîl—his young face serious in thought like an old man remembering the past.

“You have known him since birth,” I answered curiously. “How can you not know him well?”

“Well, I meant to say, not as well as you,” he said. “And not as well I should have.”

“Come here,” I said. He walked to me and placed him on my lap. “Your father loves you very much, Nenduîl. He is very sad without your mother. That is why he went away.”

“I know,” he said. “He said he loved us, but I do not understand why he left us if that were true.”

“I wish I could tell you why,” I said. “I cannot know what was in his mind, but I am quite sure you, your sisters and your mother are in his heart.”

“You will not leave us, will you,” he asked.

“No,” I answered. “I will not leave you, Tárimë or Eärluin. Neither will Êlúriel. We are waiting for Legolas to return home. Then we will all be together again.”

“He will come back,” he said. “I know he will.”

“How are you so sure, Nenduîl,” I asked. “Did he tell you this?”

“No,” he said. “Nana told me.”

“Your Nana told you,” I asked.

“No,” he answered. “His Nana. She said she was our Nana, too.”

“The queen said this,” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “She said she was our Nana now.”

“When did she say this,” I asked curiously.

“When Tárimë asked her,” he said. “She said we could call her Nana. Does that mean you are our Ada now?”

Before I could say another word, Êlúriel entered the room.

“There you are, Nenduîl,” she said. “Back to bed before your sister knows you have left.”

He looked at me and embraced me.

“Will I see you tomorrow,” he asked.

“Yes, Nenduîl. You will see me tomorrow.”

He climbed down and ran out of my study.

“What is this look you have, Thranduil,” Êlúriel asked. “Is something the matter?”

“Nenduîl says you are his Nana now,” I said slowly. “Did you tell them they could call you Nana?”

“Tárimë asked it of me,” she began. “She heard Eärluin call me ‘Nana’.”  

“He wants to know if I am his Ada now,” I muttered.

“Thranduil,” she began. “Do not be angry.”

“You wish that we replace their parents,” I said, my voice growing louder.

“Of course not,” she said. “That would be impossible.”

“That would be implausible,” I said. “They should not be allowed to forget to whom they belong.”

“They do not wish to forget, Thranduil,” she began. “They want to feel they belong to a family again.”

“Is it not enough for you that Eärluin calls you ’Nana',” I asked angrily. “Did it ever occur to you that I do not wish to be an ‘Ada’ again?”

I knew I should not have said that. I rose from my chair but it was too late—Êlúriel was in tears as she ran from my study in anguish. Before I could go after her, Fëaluin entered.

“What did you say this time,” he asked.

“You do not want to know,” I said. “It was wrong of me to say.”

“I can hardly imagine you saying anything wrong,” he said.

“I might have said I did not wish to be an ‘Ada’ again.”

He stood there with a disapproving look that made me uncomfortable.

“I did not mean it, Fëaluin,” I said softly. “I should go after her.”

“Unless you wish to spend your nights in your study alone until the queen wants to see you again.”

I looked at him for a moment; my mind frozen in thought. Suddenly, I ran swiftly into the hall and into Eldôr.

“Hello, uncle,” I said. “Pardon me.”

“She is in your chambers,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said and started in that direction. When I approached our doors, I noticed Eärluin sitting alone in the hall—her face contorted as if she were about to cry.

“Why are you alone in the hall,” I asked her as I picked her up. “It is late, Eärluin, far too late for you to be out of bed.”

“No,” she said. “I was looking for you, Ada.”

“Why were you looking for me,” I asked.

“To tuck me in, please,” she said playing with a lock of my hair.

“Did Linurial tuck you in already tonight,” I asked.

“Yes,” she said as she started to cry. “But I want you to do it, Ada.”

“Do not cry, Eärluin,” is said, walking toward the room she shared with Auríel. “I will tuck you in. Ada will tuck you in.”

When their doors opened, I entered quietly. Auríel was fast asleep; tightly holding on to her doll. Once I put Eärluin in her bed and tucked her in. She smiled.

“Everything is fine now,” I whispered. “Now Eärluin can go to sleep.”

“Yes,” she said. “So can Ada and Nana.”

She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me cheek. As she curled up and went to sleep, I walked into the hall.

“You are unrelenting, Êlúriel,” I said.

“Before you say another word,” she said walking to me from across the hall. “I had nothing to do with it. Linurial told me Eärluin had gone missing and we went looking for her.”

I gave Êlúriel my best look of skepticism.

“You do not believe me,” she asked.

“Eärluin said she can sleep now,” I began mockingly. “So can Ada and Nana.”

She laughed softly.

“Did she,” she asked.

“She did,” I said, as I leaned in and kissed her. “You had nothing to do with it?”

“No,” she whispered. “Nothing.”

We kissed again—forgetting the world around us.

“You, my dear, are a terrible liar,” I whispered.

“I am not,” she said smiling.

I smiled at her and made my way down the hall toward our room.

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

Days had passed since I had spoken to Êlúriel and I had begun to put it out of my mind. The world had become unnaturally quiet—it was nearly too peaceful. My thoughts again turned to Legolas far away from home. I wondered if he was safe—away from all the dangers the world knew would come. Darkness had risen from Dol Guldur once more—far darker than before biding its time to strike.

Sildôr, Findôl, Aramír and Aramoth commanded Marchwardens to guard all corners of the kingdom from all directions. Findôl and Sildôr, returned to council with Târuil, son of Findôl to join as a younger generation of elves had replaced the elder guard. I kept all that I had known all my life close to me. Perhaps in fear of the unknown or because of what I knew, it brought some familiarity where I thought it lost to me.

I stood in my throne room alone looking over several maps of the Rhovanion, wondering when or where evil may come again when Findôl came to me with his brother and son. Târuil had grown into a striking elf, with long golden red hair deep blue eyes.

“Where is the queen,” Findôl asked.

“She is with Isílriel and the children,” I said. “What word do you bring to me from the borders?”

“Nothing,” Findôl said. “All is quiet. Save for a few creatures wandering about.” “In the east it always quiet,” Sildôr answered. “Not since the Battle of Dale have your guard had to worry. The western borders are a different matter altogether.”

“What is the matter,” I asked. “Have you heard from Beorn?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Târuil said softly. Not at all. But there were rumors passing of rumblings from the Misty Mountains coming forth from the direction of Khazâd-dûm.”

“What sort of rumblings,” I asked curiously. “Why would there be rumblings?”

“I could not say for sure,” he said. “But Randúmîr says that something lives there. As it was told to him by Aiwendil.”

“From Aiwendil,” I asked. “How fortunate we are to have Aiwendil hear something more than the twittering of birds. Enlighten me, please.”

“He suspects there may be any number of horrible creatures dwelling there,” Fëaluin said walking toward us with Eldôr and Elranduil. “I suspect orcs or trolls or something. But from what I gather, the quaking is far too great for even a horde of them.”

“It might be a Valarauko,” Eldôr said calmly. “Left behind after the Great Battle. They still linger, though not in great number. Aiwendil would know quite well if that what rumbles through the darkness. They were once the same.”

“You have to wonder if that led Thráin to Erebor,” Elranduil said. “Perhaps it is why the others were never seen again.”

“Balin,” Fëaluin said, peering at one of the maps. “Yes, I recall several dwarves passing this way not long after King Dáin had resettled Erebor. He was from the House of Durin, I believe. Cousin to Thorin Oakenshield. I am quite sure the did not fare well at all if such things reside within the mountains.”

“Whatever is there does not make Dol Guldur look any less frightening,” I said. “Though what remains from what left returned to Mordor.”

“Not every evil comes from Mordor,” Fëaluin said looking solemn. “Something makes waste of Angrenost and has for some time.”

“Curunír,” Eldôr whispered. “Of all to follow Gorthaur under the spell of Morgoth. This is a shadow not to be reckoned with nor an evil to underestimate.”

“How far below the earth can we dwell,” I asked. “We can go no further to save ourselves. We will have to fight as everyone in Arda. There is no haven left to hide.”

“We are safe for now,” Fëaluin said. “This is the quiet before the storm and we should be glad for it as war will find us soon enough.”

“I wish to send Ardúin away, but she refused to leave me,” Elranduil said.

“She is stubborn,” Aradin said walking over with Elmîr, Nînuir, Eldúir and Sildúr. “Just like her mother.”

“And her sister,” Fëaluin said smiling.

“Mother is like her sisters,” Târuil laughed. “But perhaps they can be persuaded.

“I do not think that is possible,” I said. “They have fallen in love, I am afraid.”  

“Of course,” Elranduil said. “There is not a lady in court that does not love Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin. Even I find them somewhat tolerable.”

Eldôr poked Elranduil in the arm and glared at him.

“We must protect all of our children now,” I said. “I only my household to protect as Legolas is gone to save us all. Where is Tarthôn?”

“Here, Ada,” I heard him say walking toward me with Orísil, Ardôr and Aruilos. “I apologize for being absent.”

“It is fine,” I said. “So long as you are safe.”

“Not all of us,” Ardôr said. “One has fallen.”

“Aruilos,” Fëaluin asked in fear. “Is it your father?”

“No,” he answered. “He comes along with your sons.”

No sooner had he spoke did Nimlos come inside with Elenadar and Elenatar caring badly wounded Randúmîr. Behind them were Sîrandír and Sîrandor, the twin sons of Elenadar. Both had the long brown hair and silver blue eyes.

“Call for Arnîn,” Nimlos said.

“Will he survive,” Elmîr asked. “My niece will fall into despair if he were to die.”

“He will live,” Nimlos said. “But he may have lost some of his Marchwardens.” “What happened,” I asked as Arnîn came running to her husband with Linurial and Nimlúin.

“They were attacked,” Sîrandír answered.

“Orcs, again,” I asked.

“No,” Sîrandor quickly answered. “Easterlings. They were not many, but they were formidable.”

“Were you there,” I asked.

“Yes,” Sîrandír answered. “They were moving eastward from the direction of Dol Guldur. Why they were this far North, I do not know.”

“Call for my sons,” Elenadar said to Sîrandor. “I do not want them out there any longer.”

“Yes, Uncle,” he said and made his way out of the main gate.

“Take Randúmîr to his chambers,” Fëaluin said. “No need to have the court to see.”

Through the main gates came Aramír and Aramoth with Sîrandor followed by Sûlrandír and his twin brother, Sílrandor, the sons of Elenatar. Sîrandír ran to meet them. It was hard to tell between the two—even more so whenever they were with their twin cousins—their long golden brown hair and eyes as the color of mists of dusk their only discernible feature.

“It is over,” Aramoth said. “They have gone from our borders.”

“We did not lose anyone, Thranduil,” Aramír said. “But they are wounded badly. The rest are with Tatháron. If you will excuse me, I must see about daughter’s husband.”

I nodded as he and his brother made their way in the direction they carried Randúmîr. Nimlos stayed to speak with Aruilos.

“How long they will stay away,” Sûlrandír asked. “You think they will return, brother?”

“No,” Sílrandor answered. “They have Dale in their sights. But there are plenty of orcs.”

“Were you harmed,” Sîrandír asked. “You seem well.”

“As we are, brother,” Sîrandor said. “You look unharmed, Sûlrandír.”

“I am fine, Sîrandor,” he answered. Though Sílrandor had a rough time of it, did you not, brother?”

“I did not, Sûlrandír,” he scoffed. “That was you and Sîrandír having a rough time of it."

“Please,” Fëaluin said to them. “Do not stand so close to one another. You know I cannot tell any of you apart.”

The four cousins stepped away from each other slowly.

“Sorry, Grandfather,” they said together.

“You are to blame, Fëaluin” I whispered. “You had to have twin sons that had twin sons.”

He glared at me and muttered something under his breath. I knew war was coming and evil would rise again, but in that moment I found myself trying desperately not to laugh.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-17-17

Chapter XXII: (EXT) The Death of Súlelenth (Pt. III)

“I stood with Fëaluin and Súriar inside my study when Eldôr, Elranduil and Ardôr entered.

“Where is Êlenuil,” I asked without looking at them.

“He comes along with his brother,” Ardôr said quietly.

No sooner than he spoke, Êlenuil and his brother Elendôr entered with Tarthôn, Orísil, Aruilos, Nimlos and Aramoth.

“Everyone is present, Thranduil,” Fëaluin whispered.

Nodding, I glanced around the room at the princes of the realm. They stood as statues with stoic gazes on their faces.

“Êlenuil,” I said sharply. “Come forward.”

He slowly stepped forward, quivering in fear.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said softly.

“First born of Ardôr, son of Elranduil, son of Eldôr,” I began. “Do you know who you are?”

“I am a Prince of the Woodland Realm,” he answered.

“True enough, but you are far more. You are the father to Nenduîl Nárisil.”

“Yes, I know,” he answered.

“Do you know what he is,” I asked.

“He is a peredhel as his sister.”

I smiled at him as he looked at his father.

“I wish that were true, Êlenuil,” I answered. “That would at least give him a choice in this world.”

“I do not understand,” he said.

“There are few elves in this world such as you and your brother. Fewer still born heirs to a throne. None with a son such as your own.”

“How do you, mean,” he asked.

Ardôr tried to come forward, but Elranduil held him back.

“Father,” he asked. “What is he saying?”

“You were the first born of the Eldar with the blood of the Vanyar, the Noldo and the Teleri—of the Eldalië. The Everstar. Your son is Nenduîl Nárisil Êlenuilion. Born more elf than mortal for though the mother of both of your children was human, she still carried the blood of her elven ancestors. Should you choose to leave him and his sister in my care, he will become the last heir of this Nenduîl kingdom in your stead.”

It was a silence that could not be broken—a revelation that would forever be known.

“I have no words to say,” Êlenuil whispered. “What can I say?”

“I would prefer you would say you will remain here for your children,” I answered. “But that is something you much decide alone.”

“I cannot stay here,” he said. “Not without Súlelenth. The pain is far too great.” I sighed deeply and turned to Fëaluin.

“Everyone may take their leave,” he said. “All but Êlenuil. His Majesty would like a word with you.”

When we were alone, I released my anger relentlessly.

“Even now, you would choose your sadness over your children,” I demanded. “What sort of father are you? You would abandon them by putting your own needs before theirs? And tell me, what father tells his children they should have never been born?”

“I would never say such a thing,” Êlenuil answered. “Why would I say that to my children? I love them.”

“Tárimë told me you have said this for as long as she could remember. I would not doubt the word of a child. What reason would there be for them to speak an untruth?”

Êlenuil looked concern—his grief giving way to worry. It was then I knew truly loved his children.

“I was speaking to Súlelenth,” he said. “Tárimë must have heard me repeat something Haldúir once said to their mother after he had learned of their birth. I was angry he would say such a thing to his daughter. Whenever she wished to see her parents, I forbad her from going. It was in those moments I would remind her of what her father’s words. My children must have thought I felt that way. They are the best of me, Thranduil. I loved them from the first time I saw them after their birth. I have lost my wife now my children believe that I never loved them. You must think me horrible.”

“I do not think you horrible,” I said. “I know your grief all too well. I cannot tell you it will ever go away. It never will. But Súlelenth gave you part of her in your children and that should be reason enough to stay.”

“It is reason enough to live, but not to stay,” he answered. “You are stronger than anyone in this world—elf or man. To see all you have seen and all that you have lost yet you only grow stronger. I wish my children to learn that from you because I cannot teach them what I do not have.”

“You will tell them what you have told me,” I said. “That you love them. You should not leave them believing they are the cause for your choice. I will honor your wish for me to care for them, but I will not tell them what is your responsibility.”

“I will, Thranduil,” he said smiling. “I cannot leave my children believing that I do not love them.”

I could not help but think back to when Árendil gave her infant son to me. Thinking about all that had happened in my life to this moment, I realized that things were changing—the world, my kingdom and my own family.

“You may take your leave,” I said. “The children are in their chambers with your mother.”

He bowed and left my study. I went to my balcony and listened to the roar of the falls. I knew a great war was coming and I had to remain on my throne for my people and to be here when Legolas returned to me.

“His Majesty his thinking,” I heard Êlúriel say.

I turned around to see her standing before me beautiful as always.

“Yes? What is it?”

“We have a guest,” she said. “She said it was important.”

“Show her in,” I said thinking was Ninyáre wanting to speak with me about her husband.

It was Arímë dressed in a pale green gown, her long golden hair falling around her.

“Your Majesty,” she said. “I know it is late, but Haldúir and I will leave tomorrow and I may not have another moment to speak with you.”

“You may,” I said as she walked over to me.

“I met Eärluin,” she said. “She reminds me of Súlelenth at that age.”

“She is something,” I answered. “Nenduîl and Tárimë told me about their names, Arímë. Súlelenth could never have known about Silme and Nárisil.”

“She learned it from me,” she said. “When I learned of Êlúriel’s love for you, I would tell her about it at night before she went to sleep. She thought it was the most beautiful story ever told.”

“It is the most beautiful story ever lived,” I answered. “Still how would you have come by it?”

“I told her,” Êlúriel said quietly.

“My cousin is very lucky,” she said smiling. “A love such as yours is rare.”

“You know love, Arímë,” I said. “You gave up forever for it, did you not?”

“I did,” she said. “I do not regret it, but before I met Haldúir, all I had were letters from Êlúriel telling me all about you. I was envious, I must admit. I could only imagine what you looked like. From what she said, her words hardly do you justice.”

“Êlúriel, like my mother, tends to exaggerate,” I said looking at my wife pretending she had not heard a word.

“If it were exaggeration, then what I expected to see and what I have seen are at odds with one another for you are far more than what you call exaggeration.”

“You flatter me,” I said. “I only wish my wife had told me what to expect when I saw you.”

“I am far less beautiful than Êlúriel,” she said. “Even Nenloth was envious. But if you had known her mother, you would know where her beauty came from.”

“Her father said as much,” I said. “I find you rather beautiful. Haldúir has told you this many times I am sure.”

“He did once,” she said thinking. “A long time ago. When Súlelenth found love with Êlenuil, he seemed to change. I believe it was my fault for speaking of my past and the love my father had for my mother. As a mortal, he cannot understand how long I lived. When Súlelenth was born, he did not want her to know anything of my past, but I could not keep it from her. It would be like denying who I was and where she came from. He has since changed. He adores Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin now.”

“He does not know what they are,” Êlúriel said. “If he knew, it would anger him.”

“What are they,” she asked. “Are they not as I was?”

“No,” I said quietly. “Their father carries the bloodline of the Eldalië. They are more elf than mortal. They will never have the choice of others as they are.”

“I am glad for them,” she said. “I want what is left of my people to go on to Aman where I know Nendúril has gone. He will be happy to know a part of Gildúr lives on. I am glad a part of me will live on in them.”

“Uncle,” Êlúriel whispered.

“When will you leave tomorrow,” I asked.

“At sunrise,” she answered. “Nimlos and Nenloth will ride with us to Dale.”

“Very good,” I said. “I wish you a safe journey.”

“Êlúriel,” she began.

“Yes,” she answered.

“I wish I had been here for you,” she began.

“You were in always in my heart,” Êlúriel said. “That I am sure.”

She ran to Arímë and they embraced each other.

“I will miss you,” she said. “But you know that already.”

“I know,” Êlúriel said. “And I will miss you.”

She then turned to me.

“Namárië, Thranduil, aranon od Eryn Galen.”

She left us alone and it would be the last time we saw Arímë or Haldúir again.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-13-17

Chapter XXII: (EXT) The Death of Súlelenth (Pt. II)

“There was not a cloud in the sky as the sun rose with a mild easterly breeze. It was far too beautiful a morning to bury such a lovely creature as Súlelenth.  Êlúriel silently watched as I was being dressed. She was lost in thought as usual. Soon Fëaluin entered—a solemn look on his face.

“I would bring good tidings if there were any,” he said. “I am afraid that Êlenuil has decided not to attend this wife’s entombment.”

“What does Ardôr have to say of this,” I asked.

“He cannot get him to come out of his chambers,” he answered. “He has locked himself away and ordered the guards to allow no one to enter.”

When my servants were finished with me they bowed and left quickly. After centuries at my beck and call they always knew when my anger would erupt.

“Thranduil,” Êlúriel began. “Do not make a scene. Not this day.”

Without a word, I swiftly headed out my doors and made my way to Êlenuil’s bedchamber with Fëaluin close behind. Once outside his door, Eldôr, Elranduil and Ardôr stood quietly. I gave the guards a menacing glance and they opened the doors.

Inside, the room was in tortured disarray as Êlenuil sat immobile beside his bed.

“What is this,” I asked.

“Leave me, Thranduil,” he said. “I wish to be alone.”

“You have been here for the past three days,” I said sternly. “Is this what you wish you children to see? I know you are in pain, but you must be far stronger than this for them.”

“They have asked for you,” Eldôr said. “Do you not care?”

“No,” Êlenuil said. “I cannot bear the sight of them. They remind me of their mother.”

“Oh no,” Elranduil whispered.

“Thranduil,” I heard Êlúriel say. My anger would not allow me to listen.

“Have you gone mad,” I yelled as I grabbed him up. “They are your children, Êlenuil! Do not speak to me of loss! I have seen more death than you could ever imagine! You have neglected your children for far too long! Today you will stand as their father and a Prince of this realm before you leave them in my care.”

“What did you say,” Êlúriel asked, stunned.

“I will explain later,” Fëaluin whispered.

“I beg your pardon,” Elranduil asked. “What do you mean leave them in your care.”

“He did not tell you,” I asked, letting Êlenuil to fall to the floor. “It would appear your grandson has decided to entrust me and my wife the care of his children and ride on to Mithlond.”

“Mithlond,” Êlúriel asked as she approached me. “Why was I not told of this, Thranduil?”

“Why would you do such a thing,” Eldôr asked horrified. “Have you any love for the children you brought into this world?”

“They have no love for me,” he answered. “Only for Súlelenth. Always for Súlelenth. Since their birth they clung to her and would cry if I held them.”

“Yes, son,” Ardôr said. “Babies tend to do as much until they begin to grow into children.”

“Not even then,” he said. “What does it matter, Father? I am not able to care for them alone, nor do I want to care for them.”

“Have you gone mad,” Êlúriel asked him. “Thranduil, I would like a word with you."

I was angry beyond words and the sight of Êlenuil disgusted me.

“Where are the children now,” I asked Fëaluin quietly.

“They are with Aradúlin and Ninyáre,” he answered. “Shall I send for them?”

“No,” I said. “Have Êlenuil and his room thoroughly cleaned. I want him dressed and in attendance. Where are Arímë and Haldúir?”

“They are with Aradúlin and Ninyáre and the children. In the gardens.”

I took my leave and walked swiftly toward the gardens with Êlúriel lock step behind. The last time I had made my way so quickly was to see Êlúriel.

“You will speak to me now,” Êlúriel yelled. I stopped abruptly and turned around.

“Yes, Êlúriel,” I muttered. “What is it?”

“Why am I always the last to know what is happening in this kingdom,” she asked as she stormed over. “You do not rule this kingdom alone.”

“I know,” I said. “I was going to say something but it slipped my mind.”

“The part about Êlenuil’s children or the part about your Queen?”

“Can this wait,” I asked. “Now is not the best time.”

“No time seems to be the best time, Thranduil,” she whispered angrily. “Either you are too busy to tell me anything or you just do not want to tell me anything.”

“I tell you everything,” I growled back. “When have not told you anything?”

She looked at me—her eyes as flames searing my heart.

“Forgive me,” I begged. “It slipped my mind.”

She brushed passed me and made her way to the balcony overlooking the gardens. I followed her, my face flushed with guilt. Tarthôn was watching Aranduil playing with Nenduîl and Tárimë. Êlúriel made her way down to join them.

“Aranduil is so happy when he his with them,” he said without looking at us. “He reminds me of myself in my youth.”

“When you say that, you remind me of how old I am,” I said as my anger turned to memory. “He has not brought any woodland creatures into the palace, has he?”

“No, Ada,” he laughed. “Not that I am aware. Though do not be surprised should he and Nenduîl decide to do something some day. Just as Legolas and me. But you do not realize Orísil and Ardôr opened the gates for us. Elenadar and Elenatar were just as guilty.”

“Yes, and so was your future wife,” I said. “Has Aranduil gotten over his sister and their cousin being girls. He was concerned there were too many of them.”

Tarthôn laughed with me, then his demeanor changed.

“I know Êlenuil does not wish to see his wife laid to rest,” he said. “I cannot imagine losing Ëariâth.”

“I almost lost your mother a long time ago. I could not begin to tell you the the fear I had when I thought I had lost her. It nearly consumed me.”

“But she lived, Ada,” he said, finally looking at me.

“She lived because of you, Legolas and Isílriel,” I said. “And for me, I suppose though there are days I know I do not deserve her love.”

We watched the children play for a time. I watched Arímë and Êlúriel with them. I knew she would not turn them away. When she looked up at us, she gave me a smile. Before I could walk away, Nenduîl and Tárimë came running up the winding stair and embrace me.

“Where is father,” Nenduîl asked. “Is he ill as well?”

“No,” I said. “You will see him soon enough.”

“I do not wish to see him,” Tárimë said. “He said horrible things to us.”

“Not to Eärluin,” Nenduîl said. “She is too little.”

“What horrible things, Tárimë,” I asked kneeling to her. “What could your father say to you that could be so horrible?”

“He told us he did not love us,” Nenduîl said with a frown. “He said he never loved us.”

“I do not think that is true,” I said. “He is very said your mother is gone.”

“No,” Tárimë said sternly. “He has always said that. Since as long as we can remember.”

“Why would a father say such things to his children,” I asked concerned. “You are very special children.”

“He told Nana that we should not have been born,” Nenduîl said. “That made her sad because we were supposed to be born.”

“All children are supposed to be born,” I said. “Perhaps you heard your father wrong, Nenduîl. I do not think he would say such a thing.”

“He did,” a voice said. It was Aranduil, standing with Tarthôn, his long golden hair and blue eyes looking down. “I heard him say those things. Nothing more.”

I could feel my anger returning as I stood up. Tarthôn seemed to share in my anger. 

“All of you, go find Ëariâth,” Tarthôn told them. “She may have something for you.”

Excitedly they went on their way.

“Ada,” he said. “Do not show anger this day. There will be time enough later.”

“There will never be enough time for my anger with him,” I said. “For Nenduîl and Tárimë, I will say nothing, for now.”

I walked away toward my study—my rage burning within me so fierce, I could feel the heat rushing through my body like the fires of Orodruin.

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

When the time had come, the procession to our burial grounds began. I would not allow Nenduîl and Tárimë to walk beside their father and this did not seem to upset them. Once again, I was lying to rest someone close to me. I watched her parents grieve as her widower looked on through a tear-drenched face. Before she was locked away for eternity, Nenduîl placed a silver rose in her hands. 

Êlúriel took my hand as several elves shut Súlelenth into her stone tomb next to my father and all was done. We both took a small hand of the twins and led the procession back into the cavernous palace as dusk had started to fall.

“Your Majesty,” Haldúir said timidly, bowing before me. “Your kindness to my daughter I cannot repay.”

“You are family,” Êlúriel said.

“Arímë and I will return to Dale in the morning,” he said. “You have been a most gracious hosts.”

“If you wish,” I said. “I am sure Nimlos will send a proper escort with you to ensure a safe journey.”

I started to lead Nenduîl and Tárimë away without looking back when Linurial approached me.

“May I see the little ones to bed, Your Majesty,” she said cheerfully. “It has been quite a day for them.”

“Thank you,” I said. “How is Eärluin?”

“She is sleeping peacefully,” she said. 

Obediently, Nenduîl and Tárimë went with her as I looked for Elranduil. Before long, he came to me with Nimlos and Elmîr.

“Are you well, Thranduil,” Nimlos asked. “Nenloth wished me to ask this. She is concerned about the children. She knows they are in your care.”

“I am well,” I said. “Nenduîl and Tárimë are as well as to be expected under the circumstances. Do you know where Êlenuil has gone? I wish an audience with him.”

“I know,” Elmîr said. “Shall I get him for you? He is with his brother Elendôr and my son Árelë just now.”

“If you will,” I said. “I want every prince in the realm to be present."––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-10-17

Chapter XXII (EXT): The Death of Súlelenth (Part I)

“Legolas was gone—the son I tried desperately to protect from the world was now in that world vowing to save it from the shadow that had returned. I spent the days after his departure tortured with thoughts of losing him in many ways. It was not until Tarthôn and Aruilos returned from Rivendell safely did I find peace.

As I stood with Êlúriel, Aruilos’ wife Nimlúin, Ëariâth and Aradúlin, I began to notice how time had passed—Aradúlin held her youngest child Auríel, a spritely child with the darkest hair and grey eyes.

My household had grown but none would come from me. Legolas had left Mîráre behind and she became so distraught, her sister Ninyáre could not console her. In sadness, she left Mirkwood with her mother, Tárwen for Mithlond. As I was my father’s only heir, Legolas was mine but I knew he would never sit on the throne.

“Have you seen Súlelenth,” Aradúlin asked. “I have not seen her for two days, nor have I seen Êlenuil. What do I tell Nenduîl and Tárimë?”

“They went to see her family in Dale,” Ëariâth answered. “They should return before long. They have Eärluin and their cousins to keep them company.”

Êlúriel’s face seemed disturbed by those words, but said nothing—her eyes unmoved westward waiting patiently. Êlenuil and Súlelenth had gotten my blessing to leave.

Once we saw Tarthôn and Aruilos riding toward us with Elenadar and Elenatar, the mood brightened. As stable hands came for the horses, his wife and daughter met Tarthôn. Aruilos approached me and bowed as Nimlúin went to him.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “All is well. Elrond sends his gratitude.”

“How was it there,” I asked. “Was it as beautiful as they say?”

“Very much so,” he said. “We were fortunate to have met Elrohir and Elladan. You can imagine the trouble with having Elenadar and Elenadar present. I would think having two sets of twins did not sit well with Erestor or Lindir.”

“Well, then,” I said smiling. “It was best they left their sons with us. Four pairs would have driven them mad. Nimlos waits for you in the study.”

He smiled and bowed as he made his way into the palace with his wife, sister and mother.

“What of Legolas,” Êlúriel asked. “What he received well?”

“Yes, Nana,” Tarthôn said. "He took to chatting straight away as always."

Tarthôn came to me quietly and stood before me, looking down.

“What is the matter, Tarthôn,” I asked. “Do you miss Legolas already?”

“I do,” he said. “But I worry how you will do without him here, Ada.”

“I will do as well as I can,” I said. “But you are still here and we will greet him together when he returns.”

He looked up and smiled. Even now, so many years after he was left in my care, he felt I did not love him as much as Legolas. Unlike Orísil, he never quite felt a part of the family.

“Tarthôn,” I began. “Did you by chance see Elrond’s daughter while you were there?”

“Yes,” he answered. “As beautiful as it has been said. She is very much taken with Aragorn. I did not see him until the day we were to leave. There had come another man and one they call Gandalf and one of the dwarves that had come here before.”

We started into the palace through the gates. I was curious about the dwarves—I remembered the ones I had met after the battle of Dale and had wondered about them.

“Tell me more,” I said. “I am intrigued.”

“I believe his name was Glóin,” he said. “I recall he was there with his son Gimli. But there was a rather old creature there. He was there when we had arrived. He seemed rather fond of looking at Legolas from a distance as to have known him.”

“I shall see you later,” Êlúriel said, kissing Tarthôn’s cheek and taking her leaves as we entered my study where the entire council was in attendance.

“Aruilos, what was the name of that creature,” Tarthôn asked. “I seemed to have forgotten.”

“You mean the Hobbit,” he answered. “His name was Bilbo Baggins from the Shire.”

I stopped and found myself smiling—thinking about my little friend. To know he was still alive made me happy, though I wondered why he was so far from his home.

“As long as Legolas made it safely to Rivendell,” Fëaluin said. “That is what matters.”

“Yes, it is,” Ardôr said sternly. “I am happy for my dear cousin, Fëaluin. But it has been two days and I have not heard from my son. Perhaps we should have sent with him some protection. He is, after all, a Prince of the Realm.”

“You could have gone with him,” Eldôr said. “Or sent Elendôr along with him. The distance is not far.”

“He is fine, Ada,” Elendôr said. “He just worries about Súlelenth."

“Perhaps but they are among Men,” Ardôr sighed. “I am sure they would do a great deal more to my son than would the Elves in Rivendell.”

“We have never had issue with Dale or Esgaroth,” Elranduil said. “You are making far too much of this.”

“He is my son, Ada,” he said. “I have every right to make anything of this that I please.”

“You worry far too much, Ardôr,” I said. “Your son is of age. He has returned many times and he will again.”

“I know,” he said. “It is Súlelenth. She grows weaker.”

Aramír and Aramoth whispered to Nimlos as Orísil entered the room.

“They have returned, brother,” he said to Ardôr.

We walked out into the hall is where we saw Êlenuil and Súlelenth approaching. She smiled at me but I could see she was not well.

“Súlelenth, you do not look well,” I said.

“He is right,” Êlenuil said, touching her face. “You are rather warm.”

“I am fine, Êlenuil,” she said. “I want to see my children.”

Those were the last words she would say outside of her chambers. She collapsed into Êlenuil’s arms.

“Súlelenth,” he cried loudly, bringing everyone out of the study.

“Send for Nenloth and Nimlúin,” Fëaluin said. “Nimlos, help Êlenuil take her to her room. Elranduil, find Linurial. She is with Ardúin.”

I could not move—my thoughts were frozen.

“Do not worry, Thranduil,” Elranduil said. “Perhaps she is just be exhausted from traveling.”

“I’ll go after Nana,” I heard Tarthôn say to me as he disappeared in the swirling activity of the court.

“Send for her family,” Eldôr told Elendôr. “Take your brother with you.”

“And Elenadar and Elenatar,” Fëaluin added. “Night is falling and you will need to return before sunrise.”

“I will see to Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin,” Orísil said. He turned to Ardôr. “You should do as much, Brother. Should something happen to their mother, your words will not be forgotten by those that heard them.”

Ardôr looked at me then slowly followed Orísil away.

I left for my chambers—I feared what I might learn of Súlelenth’s condition. As I entered, I lay on my bed looking at the ceiling above. What seemed to me a lifetime was no more than a few hours when my chamber doors opened and Nenduîl and Tárimë stood beside me. They were in their nightclothes—still in their youth but slightly taller than before.

“We came to see you,” Tárimë said. “Nana said you were not well.”

“Your mother is well,” I asked, sitting. “She is not ill?”

“She is ill,” Nenduîl said climbing into bed and sitting on one side of me as his sister sat on the other. “She told us to come see you. She said you were sad.”

“I am worried about your mother,” I said. “Where is Eärluin?"

“She is sleeping,” Tarime said, curling up next to me. “Do you have a mother?"

“Yes, I do,” I said. “She is far away right now.”

“Do you miss her,” Nenduîl asked. “I will miss my Nana.”

“Yes, I miss my mother,” I said thinking about her. “She was the Queen of Eryn Galen. She was the most beautiful Queen in all of Arda.”

“Nana says so,” Tárimë said yawning. “She says her mother saw her once with her favorite cousin.”

“Longest hair as white as snow,” Nenduîl said, laying his head down on my lap. “Almost to the ground.”

“Yes, it was,” I said. “Your mother told you this?”

“Yes,” Tárimë said sleepily. “Her mother told her when she was a child.”

“She told her all about the Queen,” Nenduîl said, yawning.

“Queen Nimeithel,” I said softly. “My mother.”

“Queen Êlúriel,” Tárimë said. “Queen Êlúriel, too.”

“You were named for her, Tárimë,” Nenduîl said. “I was named for you.”

“I do not understand,” I said as tears had begun to fall.

“I am Tárimë Silme,” Tárimë said falling asleep. “He is Nenduîl Nárisil.”

“Starlight and Fire Moon,” Nenduîl said and drifted off to sleep with his sister.

Once I knew they were sleeping soundly, I pulled away from them gently and tucked them in and slipped away to find Êlúriel.

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

As the night wore on, Súlelenth had begun to grow weaker. Though she found comfort in her family, everyone knew she would not live much longer. Though I had seen death many times, this was the first time I would see the frailty of life. Elves escape mortality by nature but seldom by fate and the pain is no less real for us than for any living creature witness to fatality.

Not long before first twilight, Haldúir and Arímë arrived from Dale with Êlenuil and Elendôr. As I approached them, Êlúriel came running from outer colonnade toward us. Fëaluin came forward from my study.

“How is Súlelenth,” Arímë asked in a panic.

“She is not long for this world,” Êlúriel said sadly as she embraced her. “But Linurial said she was in good spirits though she grows weaker by the hour. Êlenuil is beside himself with grief.”

“Yes,” I said softly. “I suspect he would be, Êlúriel. Fëaluin, take them to their daughter. I would like a word with Êlúriel.”

Fëaluin nodded and led the couple away.

“Yes, Thranduil,” she asked quietly.

“The twins are asleep in our chambers,” I said. “Should I wake them so they may see their mother?”

“No,” she said. “There is time.”

“I cannot bear the thought of her children losing their mother,” I said. “Or Êlenuil losing his wife.”

Êlúriel looked at me, her eyes full of tears. She knew I was thinking back to when I almost lost her. Without saying a word, she ran away from me. I felt guilty for what I said in truth. I never found any pleasure in hurting anyone—even more so Êlúriel. I went into my study to await word on Súlelenth.

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

By nightfall the next evening, I was still in my study—lost in thought of all that had happened. I thought about Êlúriel. I longed to have her in my arms more than ever before. It was a wanton selfishness that bothered me knowing that Êlenuil would never have the same luxury again.

“Thranduil, you are needed now,” I heard Fëaluin say. “Súlelenth is dying.”

Those words pierced my heart. She had become as much a daughter to me as Isílriel. I could not bear to bring myself to watch her die--no matter my duty as a king.

“I know what I must do,” I answered. “But I cannot bear it, Fëaluin. She is only a child. Too young to die.”

“No one is too young or too old to die,” he said. “Not even elves. But men are not given the choice of immortality. They are given the choice of how they will live their lives until they die. They are remembered by how they live not for how long. She will not have lived long, but she has lived well.”

“Have Nenduîl and Tárimë seen their mother,” I asked. “I am worried about them. Eärluin will not remember this day. They will no longer have a mother nor Êlenuil a wife.”

“They have,” he answered softly.

I rose from my chair I walked slowly into the hall and through the darkened corridors leading to where Súlelenth lay dying. I saw nothing but her with her mother and father—her once vibrant skin drained of color. Êlúriel stood with Ninyáre and Ardúin; their heads hung in sorrow.

Súlelenth looked toward me with a faint smile until she turned her glance onto the ceiling with the familiar look of death I had become acquainted over many centuries. I shut her eyes for eternal sleep and kissed her forehead.

“Namárië, Súlelenth,” I whispered. “Hên nîn, Princess of the Woodland Realm.”

I turned away and saw Êlenuil sobbing desperately at the end of her bed.

“Have you seen to your children, Êlenuil,” I whispered. “They need their father now.”

He looked at me—he face drenched in tears.

“I cannot,” he said. “I cannot.”

I nodded and took my leave with Eldôr, Fëaluin, Elranduil and Ardôr behind me. Once in the hall, turned to speak.

“Fëaluin, you know what needs to be done,” I said. “Do it quickly.”

“Yes, Thranduil,” he said and made his way toward my study.

“Where are their children”

“They are with Linurial,” Elranduil said quietly.

“Go to them, Ardôr.”

“I do not think I am the one that should do so,” he said.

“If your son will not go to them, you must,” Eldôr said. “They need someone right now.”

“Can you not go, Thranduil,” Ardôr asked me. “Like Êlenuil, my manner would do nothing for them. But you are closer to them than even their father.”

“You would ask me to do such a thing,” I asked. “I have many duties as king of this realm, but I cannot take responsibility for something that does not belong to me.”

“I am not asking you,” he said. “I am throwing myself upon your mercy as my king. I am begging. Please.”

“Very well,” I answered. “But you have much to explain to your father for your actions.”

“Yes, he does,” Elranduil said, glaring at his son.

I started away toward the children’s chambers. As I approached the doors, the guards opened the doors for me. When the children saw me, Nenduîl and Tárimë ran to me and embraced me as Eärluin continued to play alone in the corner—unaware she would never see her mother again.

“I knew you would come,” Tárimë said. “How is Nana?”

“She is gone from us,” I said. “She is gone.”

“I know,” Nenduîl said. “She would have come if she were well.”

“Where is Ardôr,” Linurial asked me.

“He is with his father now,” I said. “He was in no condition to come.”

She nodded and went to see about Eärluin as Ardúin came into the room.

“Go to Linurial,” I whispered to Nenduîl and Tárimë. I stood to address Ardúin.

“I know why Ardôr did not come, Thranduil,” she said. “He knows that Êlenuil wishes to leave for Mithlond. He told his father he would should Súlelenth die. Now that she has, he will take the journey.”

We moved our discussion into the hall so the children would not hear.

“He would leave his children,” I asked. “They have just lost their mother. Must they lose their father as well?”

“I know,” she said. “That is why he has chosen to leave.”

“I do not understand.”

“He wishes to leave his children in your care—yours and the Queen.”

I stared at Ardúin—my heart and my thoughts running in all directions at once. Those words harkened back to when Árendil left Tarthôn with me.

“May we stay with you,” Tárimë asked. She had heard what I tried to conceal and had come with her brother into the hall. “I want to stay with you.”

“Me as well,” Nenduîl said. “I want to stay.”

I looked down at them—their faces hard to resist. I loved them very much—as if they were my own. I wonder what Êlúriel would say.

“Yes, you may stay with me,” I said. “Both of you go find Aranduil. I wish to speak with Ardúin for moment—privately.”

They ran down the hall excitedly. I feared they were still too young to know all that was happening; their sister Eärluin even less.

“Ardôr cannot bring himself to see them,” she said. “It is not due to lack of affinity for them. Our son’s words have troubled him since he said them.”

“It is not for Ardôr I have concern,” I said. “It is with your son. The world is not as it was after the Battle in Dale. There is a far greater evil out there. His safe passage is not assured. Should something happen to him, he will truly leave his children fatherless. What would anyone have me tell them?”

She said nothing and lowered her head as she began to cry.

“He does not know himself, Thranduil,” she cried. “Neither you or Elranduil will speak of it. If you would, perhaps he would stay.”

“And risk his children to know what they are? They are far too young to comprehend any of this. Do they know what they are?”

“Yes,” she said. “Súlelenth told them.”

“What did she tell them,” I asked, my voice growing louder. “What did she say to them?”

“She told them their mother was human and their father was elven,” she whispered.

“Did you or anyone tell Súlelenth about Êlenuil,” I asked.

“No,” she said.

“Then Nenduîl and Tárimë do not know who they are,” I said. “It will be up to me to tell them. That is why Ardôr will not see them. This has nothing to do with Súlelenth. I will speak with both of them but not until after Súlelenth is laid to rest. If Êlenuil wishes to leave thereafter, I will let him do as he wishes. But know this, no matter what he decides, Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin belong to me.”

I left swiftly in a deepening anger I would keep to myself until the time came for it to be unleashed.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-09-17

Chapter XXI (EXT): The Best of Sons (Part VIII/c) 

“Not long after Aragorn left us, life returned to form. Aradúlin had given birth to a daughter much to the chagrin of Aranduil; now old enough to voice his thoughts rather loudly much to my amusement. Though I worried about Súlelenth as her time grew near, Êlúriel reassured everyone that she was in good spirits and stronger than expected. I saw otherwise in her eyes but said  nothing to her as I went about my duties.

As I spoke with Fëaluin one day in the hall, I felt a tug on my robe. I looked down to see Aranduil—his eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yes,” I asked. “What is the matter, Aranduil?”

“Up,” he demanded. I looked at Fëaluin trying hard not to laugh. I bent down and picked Aranduil up.

“You are up,” I said. “Is there something the matter?”

“You cannot hear me down there,” he said. “You are taller than I am.”

Fëaluin started to laugh.

“Well, I can hear you quite well now,” I answered. “What is it you want to say?”

“Why are there so many girls,” he asked genuinely concerned. “There are too many girls.”

“I do not understand,” I said.

“Nana had a girl now uncle says there is another.”

“I do not understand, Aranduil,” I said. “Another girl?”

“Yes,” he said sternly. “Êlenuil said there is another one now.”

Fëaluin and I looked at each other—our faces racked with concern. Before we could say another word, Ëariâth arrived.

“There you are, Aranduil,” she said. “Why did you wonder off?”

He looked at me then looked at her defiantly.

“He is the king,” he said.

“Aranduil tells me there is another girl,” I said as Ëariâth took him from me. 

“Súlelenth has given birth, yes?”

“Yes,” she said smiling. “She is faring rather well.”

“You have seen her,” Fëaluin asked.

“Of course. Someone must keep watch over Nenduîl and Tárimë—never mind this one.”

“Aranduil,” he said frowning. “I am Aranduil.”

“Yes, I know,” Ëariâth answered, flustered.

“Êlúriel is with her,” I asked.

“I was,” a voice said from behind us. Êlúriel walked toward me smiling.

“If you will pardon us,” Ëariâth said making a quick courtesy and going on her way.

“I shall see about Eldôr,” Fealuin said as he bowed and took his leave.

“How is Súlelenth,” I asked. “You are smiling. Shall I think her well?”

“You may,” Êlúriel said. “She is resting now. You may see her when she rises.”

“And the child,” I asked. “Aranduil has expressed his discontent on the arrival of another girl.”

“Did he,” she said, laughing. “He will have to accept that his new cousin is a darling little girl as his sister Auríel.”

“What will I call Súlelenth’s child?”

“Eärluin,” she answered. “She looks very much like her mother.”

“And you and Ëariâth say she is well,” I asked once more.

“As well as one can after such an ordeal.”

“Well, I know better than to presume what the fairer of us goes through,” I began. “I have been married long enough to know not to ask either.”

Êlúriel smiled at me.

“You have learned something after all these years,” she said.

“I share my chambers with you,” I began. “It is far more pleasant when I do not have to win a disagreement."

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

It was nearing the end of Autumn—a few days short of Lasselanta—two years later that news would come from Rivendell. In my study, I sat alone reading when the doors opened. I did not see anyone enter, but I had my suspicions.

“Is that you, Eärluin,” I asked. 

A small child appeared peeking around my table—a head full of earthen curls and green eyes. She made her way over to me for me to take her and set her on my lap. Since she had begun to walk, she seemed wander into my study often. I continued reading as Eärluin leaned into my chest observe. Just then,  Fëaluin and Eldôr entered.

“A messenger just arrived from Rivendell,” Fëaluin said handing me a small note affixed with the seal of Rivendell. I opened it and began to read. When I was done, I put it down.

“Where is this messenger,” I asked. “Does he remain with us?”

“Yes,” Eldôr answered. “He awaits outside the doors.”

I nodded and Fëaluin waved to the guards. The doors opened and into the room came a familiar face.

“Your Majesty,” he said as he bowed to me. “It has been a long time.”

“Glorfindel,” I said. “It has been quite a long time.”

“I see you have been rather busy,” he said, referring to Eärluin sitting straight up on my lap and looking at Glorfindel with curiosity.

“You have word from Elrond,” I asked ignoring him. “It must be important if he sent it by you.”

“It is a matter of grave importance,” he said, his face falling. “You know of the awakening of evil once again in Mordor.”

“I do,” I answered. “Am I to guess that Aragorn told you of that hideous creature Gollum that escaped from my dungeons.”

“Not particularly,” he said. “But it is what that creature seeks that Sauron wants again he once lost.”

“I got nothing from Gollum of any worth,” I said. “If Elrond wants from me knowledge of what either of them seeks, your journey was for nought.”

“You read his letter,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Then you know what was asked of you,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Your answer is no,” he asked.

“My answer is not mine to give,” I said. “It will fall upon Legolas to decide.”

There was a painful silence that befell my study. The doors opened and Legolas entered with Mîráre.

“Ada, have you seen,” he began. “There she is.”

The two of them came to me and Mîráre took Eärluin from me. I stood up.

“Legolas, stay,” I said, motioning to Mîráre to leave. She could tell something was wrong and left quickly.

“What is it,” Legolas answered.

“Elrond has asked me to send someone to Rivendell,” I said. “He has asked me to give to a quest a prince of the realm. That would be you.”

Legolas seemed taken aback for a moment. He looked around the room curiously—looking at Glorfindel.

“Me,” he asked. “You would allow me to leave for such a quest?”

“I am afraid it is not up to me,” I said. “You are of age, Legolas. The decision must be yours to make.”

Legolas nodded, bowed and took his leave quickly.

“Rest, Glorfindel,” I said. “You will have your answer shortly. I know my son.”

He bowed and followed Fëaluin out the doors.

I sat down and turned my gaze to the thunderous falls beyond my balcony. “He wants to do this, Thranduil,” Eldôr said. “As he has always done before.”

“I know,” I said softly. “I will not keep him from it and neither will his mother. She spoke of his destiny long ago. It is his time now.”

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

The morning Legolas would leave, every memory I had rose to the surface and flowed through me with great emotion. On this day, Êlúriel and I would stand before the gates of Mirkwood to say farewell to our son.

The walk to the gates seemed far too long and too quick. When I stepped into the first light of day, I could see Legolas with Elenadar, Elenatar, Tarthôn and Aruilos. They would escort Legolas to Rivendell and Tarthôn would return on his brother’s horse. When Legolas saw me, he ran to me. I could see the little boy he had been behind the elven prince he had become. His life was his own to live beyond what I had given him.

“I am ready, Father. Mother,” he said.

“I am not, I am afraid,” I said. “But you are no longer a child.”

“I remember many things,” Legolas said. “But none so wonderful as being your son.”

I could not say anything. I was aged, yet youth had not left my face or my stature diminished. It would be the same for most of the elves of Arda. Looking into the face of my son, I could see many things. I saw the newborn in my arms and now I was sending a man into a world that had yet to find itself at peace.

“I have done many things in my life, Legolas,” I began. “There are things I long to remember and things I wish to forget. I was given many things in my life. Born to a king, I became one. I loved the most beautiful of creatures and she gave me my greatest treasure. You. I have not always been the best of fathers, but I was given the best of sons. I am the King of Mirkwood, but I am first and always your father. That is my crowning glory. Return to us, Legolas.”

He embraced me and smiled. I knew I was crying. I knew that behind me on this day stood an kingdom watching the heir to its throne leave for Rivendell. I did not care what anyone thought--I was once again losing a part of my heart to this world that had taken from me so much.

“I will return, Ada,” he said smiling. “Nothing will keep me from you.”

I was taken by those words as they were what I had said once a long time ago to Êlúriel the night before I left for war. It was a promise I kept.

Êlúriel embraced him as tears rolled down her face.

“I am proud of you, my little Greenleaf,” she said.

Isílriel was next to embrace her brother.

“What will I do without you,” she asked.

“If I know my sister, you will get on without me for awhile,” he said. “Look after our family, Isílriel. Especially Tarthôn. Do not tell him I said that.”

She laughed and as she released Legolas and we watched him walk away.

I smiled. Fëaluin looked at me curiously.

“Why do you look at me, Fëaluin,” I asked. “Do I amuse you?"

“You have become the king your father always knew you would be.” 

Legolas mounted his horse. Elenadan and Elenatar would escort him to Rivendell. I watched my son ride away until I saw him no more. As the dusk began to fall upon Mirkwood, I knew that Legolas would return and my kingdom and all of Arda would be changed forever.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-08-17

Chapter XXI (EXT): The Best of Sons (Pt. VIII/b)

Time passed and the day came when I would once again see the power of Sauron face to face. The day was as any other—the court going about its work, Êlenuil and Súlelenth seemed happier than I’d seen them—playing with their children. I stopped on the balcony overlooking the gardens to watch them together. Something seemed different to me.

“Your eyes do not deceive you, Thranduil,” I heard Êlúriel say as she approached me. “Súlelenth is with child once more.”

I could tell by the look on her face that my own was frozen in disbelief. I could not find my words—they seemed locked in my throat; at any moment I would choke on them.

“Your Majesty,” Súriar said. “Are you well?”

I nodded and followed him toward my study, leaving Êlúriel to her thoughts. As we came to the doors, we entered my study.

“I wish to show you what we have done,” Súriar began. “We have finished the volume of our history for the Second Age would like your approval.”

“Yes, of course,” I said looking over the work on his table. I began reading, trying to put my mind at ease when Eldôr entered with my council close behind.

“Good morning, Thranduil,” Eldôr said as he walked to my table. “There are fears spoken in whispers that Sauron is rising once more in Mordor.”

“Good morning to you as well,” I said walking over to I sit in my chair. “You have always known how to greet me with such cheerful news, Uncle. So, Sauron has returned to Mordor. I cannot tell you how surprised I am.”

“I am sure there is a reason for his re-emergence,” Fëaluin said quietly placing a message in front of me with the seal of Rivendell. 

“What is this,” I asked, as I opened it and started reading.

“That just arrived from Rivendell,” Elranduil said.

“So I see,” I answered. “I am to expect Estel to arrive in my kingdom.” “Within the week,” Eldôr answered. “He comes to us from our southern borders.”

“Tell me, Eldôr,” I began. “Why would the heir of Gondor be coming to us so far from his home? He is the ward of Elrond, is he not?” 

“He was in his youth,” Eldôr said. “He has been of age for quite some time.” “Much time has past since then,” Fëaluin said.

“Yes, and much time has past since my father fell at Dagorlad fighting by the side of his ancestor Isildur,” I said. “Now, I am to welcome his heir into my kingdom.”

“The same blood runs through his vains,” Fëaluin scoffed. “It does not mean the same temperament. Many generations have come and gone since Dagorlad, Thranduil.”

“We shall see, Fëaluin,” I said. “For now, the fires of Orodruin are aflame once more. Only a fool would think war is long behind us. There is little doubt of it and I will have little choice but to give my sons over to it as my father gave me. This will be unlike anything this world has seen or shall see again.”

“I do not mean to upset you,” Fëaluin started. “But—”

“Súlelenth is with child,” I said. “Was that what you wished to say, Fëaluin?”

He nodded quietly.

“How far along,” I asked.

“Not long at all,” Elranduil said. “How you would know is amazing.”

“How I would know is that I have been married long enough to know. What I do not know is how it happened.”

“You know well how it happened,” Eldôr answered.

“And you know well what I was asking,” I said. “Surely someone warned her against it and would it might do to her.”

“She is like her mother, I am afraid,” Nimlos answered. “Headstrong and young. Both a lethal combination for anyone, elven or mortal.”

“What of her husband,” I asked.

“Êlenuil is not himself,” Ardôr said. “He hides his fear for her in the company of others but as his father, I can see it, even more so than Elendôr.”

“All we can do is wait,” I said. “For one thing or another. There will be little peace until all things have come to their end—whether we want them to or not.”  

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

I had little time to worry about Súlelenth as the days passed quickly and were disrupted by an expected visitor with an unexpected gift. It was earlier than usual that I was in the hall outside my chambers with Êlúriel.

“All things well,” I asked quietly.

“Yes,” she whispered. “There has been little change with Súlelenth.”

“That is good to hear but I was speaking of you.”

She smiled at me as she took my hand and kissed it tenderly. Before she could say a word, we saw Elmîr walking toward us.

“Yes, Elmîr,” I said. “What do you have for me today?”

“He has come,” he said bowing. “He is not alone.”

I looked up at him—his face contorted in disgust. The three of us went into the throne room where my entire council waited in audience. Standing before them was a man with dark hair and gentle eyes. Êlúriel gasped as she ascended to her throne in fright. 

Before I could adjust my focus on him, I noticed he had beside him a horrible little creature as black as pitch with slick skin and eyes far larger than his face would allow.

“What is that,” I whispered to Elmîr.

“That is hideous,” he said. “If you do not mind, do not make me touch it.” I walked over to the man. He respectfully bowed. He was extraordinarily measured considering he had come into my kingdom with such a monstrosity.

“What shall I call you, now that you stand beyond the borders of Rivendell,” I asked him.

“Aragorn, Son of Arathorn,” he said. “For I know you know well of my past.” “What is this creature you bring with you?”

“Gollum,” he said. “Wretched creature he is, but I am afraid Sauron has done this to him.”

“I wants it, my precious,” Gollum said to himself. “He took it!”

I did not know to if I should address Gollum or leave him to himself.

“Is he speaking to me,” I asked.

“No,” Aragorn said. “To himself. He does not know where he is. Sauron tortured him mercilessly, I am afraid.”

“What did he look like before,” I asked, feeling some pity. “I am almost afraid to ask.”

“I do not know, for I was not yet born,” he said. “He has been this way for hundreds of years.”

“I have seen many disgusting creatures, but none such as this where I have pity yet am utterly disgusted at first sight.”

“I agree with you, Your Majesty,” he said. “But there is something that has taken his soul and turned it away to darkness. I am afraid it was one of my own that played a part.”

“The War of the Last Alliance,” Eldôr said. “I remember; that is where we fought together to defeat Sauron at Mordor so long ago.”

“He found a ring that belonged to Sauron that was misplaced,” Aragorn said. “From what I could gather from him, he lost this ring that Elrond said Isildur once had in his possession. I brought him to see if you get him to say more.”

Before I could answer, Legolas came around the corner with Tarthôn, Ardôr and Orísil and screamed in terror at the sight of Gollum. Gollum let out an equally loud cry I would liken to an animal in distress.

“Legolas,” I said. “Calm yourself.”

“What is that,” he asked.

“Disgusting,” Tarthôn answered.

“Aragorn, meet my sons, Legolas and Tarthôn,” I said, as I motioned to guards to take Gollum to the dungeon. “Your journey was long, I am sure. Please, rest and tomorrow we will discuss how we will talk to Gollum.”

He bowed and followed Fëaluin away. I called Nimlos to me.

“Yes,” he asked.

“Wherever Gollum is placed, have the guards clean his cell often,” I said. “I am afraid he might leave a stain and render our dungeons useless.”

He nodded and took his leave—leading the guards with Gollum toward the dungeons as Êlúriel slowly descended from her throne. Once beside me, she seemed to look around to make sure Gollum was no longer near. I grabbed her shoulder and hissed into her ear. She screamed.

“Thranduil, you are horrible,” she said.

I tried hard not to laugh as I made we made our way to our chambers to prepare for dinner.

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

Once dressed, we made our way toward the dinning hall in relative silence. As we made our way across the balcony overlooking the garden, Êlúriel’s mind wandered out loud.

“It has been some time since you have seen the children,” I heard Êlúriel say. “They have grown.”

“What are you saying,” I asked. “I see them everywhere. There is never a dull moment in the palace as Isílriel has taken mother’s place as the disruptor of the morning and you know Tarthôn and Legolas are part of my council.”

“You know which children I am speaking of, Thranduil,” she said. “The twins, Nenduîl and Tárimë. Do not forget Aranduil. They are walking now.”

“At this hour they are sleeping,” I said. “Perhaps I will see them tomorrow when I am done with my duties.”

“You say that every time I mention it,” she said quietly. “What are you afraid of?”

“Not a thing,” I said as we approached the enormous doors of the hall. “You know what keeps me away.”

“You say that every time I ask,” she said hiding her laughter.

We stood waiting for the doors to open briefly. Two raps on the floor and doors were opened.

“Their Majesties, King Thranduil and Queen Êlúriel,” Fealuin announced as the court stood and bowed as we entered and took our places. 

I noticed that Aragorn and Legolas seemed as kindred spirits and they spent most of the night talking with one another and the other princes of the realm. The voices in the room sounded like the buzzing of bees until I felt a small hand pulling on my coat. I looked down to see a small elven child looking at me—his soft golden hair falling around his blue eyes. He reminded me of Legolas at that age.

“Pick me up,” he said. “Now, please."

“No,” another voice said on my other side. “Me, first.”

With sparkling grey eyes and brown hair with the right hint of gold, she gave her brother a sharp look. I could not help but laugh.

“What are you doing out of bed,” I whispered. I did not want to alarm anyone of their presence.

“No,” he said. “I am not sleepy.”

“I am,” she said, climbing upon my lap and curling up as her brother tried to grab something on the table.

The room fell quiet as everyone was looking at me. Elranduil started to laugh.

“Ada,” Legolas said. “I believe someone wishes to have an audience with you.”

“Yes, I guess they felt you were ready to see them,” Êlúriel whispered, as Elranduil picked up the boy.

“Everyone, this is Nenduîl,” he said. “Son of Êlenuil and that is his sister, Tárimë.”

Tárimë had fallen asleep with her arms around my neck. I could not help but remember fondly when my children were young and how much joy they had brought to me whenever they were in my arms. As I rose from my seat cradling Tárimë, everyone stood to bow. I followed Elranduil out into the hall.

“If I did not know better,” I began. “I would think you had something to do with this, Elranduil.”

“I do not mean to disappoint you, Thranduil,” he said. “But roaming out pass bedtime seems to be an inherited trait in this family.”

Once in their chambers, I looked around. It once belonged to Legolas and Tarthôn. My mother and my wife had taken such care to prepare it for them so long ago. I put Tárimë in her bed and went to look out their window at the falls. They seemed to play a lullaby I never knew but generations after had grown to love. Elranduil came and stood next to me.

“I suppose Nenduîl was sleepy after all,” he said.

“They are beautiful,” I said.

“Truly,” he said. “They have but one choice in this world to make when they come of age.”

“Then let them make it for themselves,” I said. “You know they cannot stay here no more than their father.”

“I know,” he said. “Êlenuil does not know what he is, so what would he tell his children?”

“Nothing,” I said. “For a time. They are still too young.”

We watched the children sleep for a while before leaving to our own chambers. 

How beautiful they were, I thought. How so much they resembled Êlúriel and me.

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

The next morning I prepared to speak with Aragorn. I walked from my chambers as always toward my study when Fëaluin met me in the hall.

“He is gone,” he said.

“Who is gone,” I asked as Legolas and Aragorn approached.

“Gollum,” Fëaluin said. “Guards have been sent to find him. He seemed to have slipped away when they opened his cell to give him food and drink.”

“What do we do now,” Legolas said. “The guards told Nimlos and Nînuir he spent most of the time talking with himself about hobbits.”

“Hobbits,” I asked as I remembered Bilbo. “Why would that creature be speaking of hobbits. Rather peculiar.”

“I think that may be what he was,” Aragorn said. “He spoke of it on the way here. He seems to think one took the ring from him.”

“If he is out there with that ring,” I began. “Then this world will know peace no more. Search no further than these borders for him.”

Aragorn and Legolas left with several others out of the palace.

“It seems that we have had only a moment of peace,” Fëaluin said. “Now it is no longer."

But dusk, all returned empty handed. Gollum knew darkness well and how to navigate through it far better than any man or elf. Aragorn stayed with us one last night and left swiftly the following day. I hoped perhaps Gollum may be found before whatever evil befell him fell upon another.”--–TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 11-17-17

Chapter XXI (EXT): The Best of Sons (Pt. VIII/a)

“It was not long after the wedding did time swiftly bring to Mirkwood more little elves for its last generation. As many things often came to me in the early morning, I was caught unaware. I was alone in my chambers resting peacefully when my doors flew open and an excited Isílriel ran in with Fëaluin not far behind.

“Ada,” she yelled. “Come quickly! You must come quickly.”

“Isílriel, please,” I said covering my ears. “Whatever it is, I am quite sure it can be said in a whisper."

“Why are you still in bed,” she asked.

“Because, I am the king,” I said. “Why are you in my chambers yelling at me so early?”

“Nana said I would find you here,” she said.

“Well,” I said as I sat up. “Imagine finding her husband in our room.”

“Súlelenth and Aradúlin have given birth,” Fëaluin said, motioning to my dressers to enter. “We have three new elves.”

“Three,” I asked, motioning for Isílriel to turn away as I stood up and walked to my dressing corner. “I thought two maidens were married nine months ago. Why would there be three elven children born?”

“Súlelenth has given birth to twins,” Isílriel said. “One of each.”

“One of each,” I laughed. “Each of what?”

“A boy and a girl,” Fëaluin said, lightly smacking my head. “Aradúlin gave birth a boy.”

“Where is Êlúriel,” I asked. I knew she had spent most of the night overseeing the princesses with the ladies.

“Nana is with Súlelenth,” Isílriel said turning around. “Ëariâth is with Aradúlin, of course. I cannot choose where to stay, Ada. They are all so beautiful.”

When the dressers were done, they left us alone.

“To whom shall I go first,” I asked. 

Their faces changed instantly—gone was the excitement they once had.

“What is the matter?”

“It is Súlelenth,” Fëaluin began. “She was weakened by labor. She lives but Linurial confided in me she will not make it should any illness disturb her delicate nature.”

“What of her children,” I asked.

“They are healthy, Ada,” Isílriel said sadly. “They have fared better than their mother.”

I embraced my daughter as she began to cry. I nodded at Fëaluin.

“So I shall go to Súlelenth first,” I said. “Will you be able to take me there, Isílriel?”

“Yes, Ada,” she said looking at me.

She led us out into the hall and through one winding corridor to Êlenuil and Súlelenth’s room.

I entered a room of solemn faces bowing to me as I entered. I looked to see Súlelenth lying in bed—pale, weak and damp from sweat; her head on her mother’s lap with her husband kneeling by her bedside holding her hand.

“Your Majesty,” she said softly. “I wish I could stand in your presence, but I am afraid birth has weakened me for now.”

“No need to worry,” I said. “There will be plenty of time for that. For now, you need your rest. Êlenuil, where are your children?”

He pointed to a corner where Êlúriel and Mîráre stood beside two elaborately carved cradles—each holding a sleeping newborn. I slowly went over to see them. I did not wish to wake them.

“This is Nenduîl,” Êlúriel whispered. I saw a sleeping baby, with soft golden hair.

“This is his sister Tárimë,” Mîráre said, showing me another newborn. She stirred in her sleep—opening her bright grey eyes that seemed to know who I was. Her hair nearly matched Êlúriel’s in color.

“They are beautiful,” I said. “Êlúriel, may I have a word with you?”

She nodded as she handed Nenduîl to Isílriel. As we turned to leave, everyone bowed. I motioned to Fëaluin to follow. Once in the hall, I felt a sense of comfort. The sight of Súlelenth had disturbed me greatly.

“Fëaluin, send word to Elranduil and Ardúin of my arrival,” I said.

He nodded and went his way. I turned to Eluriel.

“I expect you know of Súlelenth’s frailty,” I said.

“I do,” she said. “As does Arímë.”

“She could die,” I said.

“I know,” she said, looking down.

“Do her parents know about Êlenuil,” I asked.

“No,” she said, raising her head and looking at me. “I would tell them no such a thing now or ever.”

“I will not ask your reasons until this day is done,” I said. “When I do, do not hold a thing from me.”

“My reasons are the same as yours,” she said. “Though, I suspect you have had a change of heart whether to say anything about it to Arímë and Haldúir.”

“I cannot say,” I said, thinking. “I need time. For now, I will go to Elendôr and Aradúlin.”

She nodded and the guards opened the doors for her to return again. I continued down the hall for a time until I came to two more doors. As they opened, I heard the distinct sound of a crying infant. Inside, the mood was light and joyful. Aradúlin was sitting up in bed with Ëariâth and Ninyávë sitting on either side of her—Ardúin and Arlúin at the foot of her bed as Ardôr and Tarthon looked on with pride as Elranduil walked around whispering to a small baby with bright blue eyes and the shiniest golden hair I’d ever seen.

“I see you finally found someone to talk to, Elranduil,” I said.

Hardly looking up, he came to me showing off the newest addition to his family.

“His name is Aranduil,” he said. “Elendôr wanted to name him after us.”

“Oh, to condemn a child to such a fate,” Eldôr said from across the room. “I remain proud nonetheless.”

“Ada, put him down,” Orísil said. “He was like this when Êleneth was born, was he not, Nana?”

“Yes he was,” Ardúin said rising from the bed and taking Aranduil from her husband. “Time to feed him, and time for all of you to leave. That means you as well, Elranduil.”

As we began to leave, we were being replaced by more ladies of the court. Once in the hall the doors closed and we just stood looking at each other for a moment.

“I never liked when they did that,” Eldôr said.

“Not at all,” Orísil said.

“It is so cruel,” Elranduil said.

Ardôr and Tarthôn tried not to laugh.

“No use standing around. We have council,” Fëaluin said. “Shall we?”

“I wish to see my brother, if I may,” Elendôr said. “I know he grieves for Súlelenth’s malaise.”

“You may,” I said.

“I worry for Êlenuil,” Ardôr said watching his son leaving. “What will he do if she were to die?”

“Do not say such a thing,” Tarthôn said. “The thought pains even me.”

I did not say a word about it for the rest of the day. I kept my thoughts to myself until evening when I could speak to Êlúriel.

Needless to say, by evening, Êlúriel said nothing to me about Súlelenth. We went about our nightly routine in silence. This continued for days then months as Súlelenth started grow stronger. Soon she seemed to return to good health and found joy in watching her children grow.”–TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 10-30-17