#arele

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

suicide honestly is never the answer. 

i think of all the people that love me, i think of awards i have gotten, i think about my future, and i think about all the lovely things there is.

i'm sorry that you want to do that, i've been there, babe. i've been there a lot.. i've even tried to kill myself 4 times, not counting last night. but it's a good thing you're here now. that means you're still strong. and you need to stay strong.