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 VI: From Mirkwood to Eryn Lasgalen: Legolas’ Return (Pt. IV)

“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 and Tárimë 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.

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, Eldôr, Elranduil, Ardôr, Ninyáre, Tarthôn, Ëariâth, Orisil, Arlúin, Elendôr, Aradúlin, Tatháron, Aranduil, 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 needed 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. 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 that 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 was the King of this 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.”––Excerpt from TKWR Book III: To Eryn Lasgalen by J.M.Miller 05-8-17.

Chapter XXI (EXT): The Best of Sons (Pt. V)

“It was several days after the betrothal when news came to me by way of Nimlos. I was with Fëaluin and Elranduil when he rushed into my study.

“Thranduil,” he said excitedly. “Where is Êlúriel?”

“She is with Súlelenth and Aradúlin I presume,” I said. “Why are you out of breath, if I may ask?”

“They have come,” he said. “Súlelenth’s parents have come from Dale for the wedding of their daughter.”

Elranduil and I looked at one another—neither of us could fathom what we would expect.

“Where are they now,” Fëaluin asked.

“They are with Aramoth and Nenloth,” he began. “In the garden.”

Fëaluin looked at me—judging by his expression, I must have remained stunned gathering what thoughts would not come.

“Send them to court and have Eldôr sent to me,” he said. “I will attempt to get these two to do something other than stare into oblivion.”

Nimlos bowed and hurried away and Fëaluin slapped us each across the face.

“What was that for,” Elranduil asked.

“Did you think for a moment that Súlelenth’s parents would stay away,” he asked. “She is their daughter and is betrothed to your grandson.”

“Ardôr will not take this well,” I said. “He was less than joyous at the announcement even at my command or the wishes of his son.”

As I said those words, Eldôr entered with Legolas, Tarthon, Orísil and Ardôr.

“I hear that Súlelenth’s family has come into Mirkwood,” Ardôr said. “Did His Majesty know of this?”

“I just learned of it, Ardôr,” I said. “I am as surprised as you. Where are your sons?”

“They have gone for a ride,” Legolas said. “Shall I go find them?”

“No,” I said. “Go find your mother and send her to me, I wish to tell her myself. Send Aldáros after them, would you, Fëaluin?”

He nodded and left with Legolas close behind.

“Tell me, Nimlos,” I began. “What sort of mortals should I expect in my court?”

“They are humble,” he answered. “They have weathered many storms yet have want for only the necessities.”

“Does Êlenuil know them,” I asked.

“Yes,” Elranduil said. “They are aware of one another.”

“Why would you know of this,” Ardôr asked angrily.

“He told me, Ardôr,” he replied. You have isolated your sons because of your anger. They are afraid to speak with you.”

Ardôr turned his gaze to the floor—his face twisted in anguish. When he regain his composure, he looked at us.

“You are right, Ada,” he said. “My behavior has been less than exemplary. I shall be more agreeable from now on.”

“Agreeable to what,” Êlúriel asked as she entered the room with Legolas. Everyone bowed as she made her way over to me.

“We shall leave you alone with the Queen,” Eldôr said. “We will see you in audience.”

“What did you need, Thranduil,” she asked me when we were alone. “Legolas said you wished to tell me something.”

“I spoke with Nimlos,” I said. “Súlelenth’s parents are here.”

I had never seen Êlúriel’s face that way—it was incredulous; her eyes staring at me unflinching.

“I beg your pardon,” she said. “Her parents are in Mirkwood?”

“Yes, Êlúriel. They have come to see their daughter.”

“They have come to see their daughter,” she repeated.

“Êlúriel, are you going to repeat everything I say to you,” I asked. “I would have thought you would be happy.”

“You thought,” she asked. “When have you thought about anything?”

“You insult your husband,” I asked. “If I had known this would have angered you, I would have sent them away. They are your family.”

Flustered, Êlúriel had lost her usual graceful posture and it worried me.

“I apologize,” she said. “It has been so long since I have seen Arímë. The thought of seeing her again has vexed me.”

“If it will upset you, you need not take audience,” I said. “I can do this alone.”

“No,” she said quietly. “It is my duty to be with you. I am Queen of this realm.”

“Are you afraid to see her?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I know she is much changed and I am not. You must think ill of me for such vanity.”

I kissed her on her forehead.

“I could never think ill of you, Êlúriel,” I said.

“Forgive me, Thranduil,” she said. “You are most thoughtful. Especially with me. You did not deserve such an insult.”

“Not this day, but I have been guilty of thoughtlessness,” I said.

“I have as well on occasion,” she said.

“There will plenty of time to forgive each other tonight,” I said. “For now, we have an audience to attend.”

I motioned to one of the guards and he went into the hall to return with Fëaluin.

“They have arrived,” he said. “The court is awaits you.”

I nodded and he left to prepare to announces us. I took Êlúriel’s hand and we made our way anxiously into the hall and toward the throne room. 

“Presenting Their Majesties King Thrandul and Queen Êlúriel,” Fëaluin shouted. The court bowed as we ascended the throne. Once Êlúriel sat down, I looked upon the two mortals in the center of the room. 

“Welcome to my kingdom,” I said. “For whom do I owe this audience?”

“I am Haldúir of Dale, Your Majesty,” the man said. “This is my wife, Arímë. We have come to see our daughter, Súlelenth.” 

“You come now,” I asked. “Now that she is to wed a Prince of this realm? Why have I not seen you before? Why were you not in attendance to give your blessing at her betrothal, if you do not mind me asking?”

They said nothing—not even Nimlos or Nenloth dared to speak for them. I motioned for Ardôr to stand at my side.

“I am Ardôr, son of Elranduil,” he said. “It is to my eldest son, Êlenuil that your daughter is betrothed. I have heard you have met him. He has spoken kindly of you.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Êlenuil has spoken highly of you, Your Highness. Forgive me for staying away. It was fear that kept me from allowing my wife to come see her only child.”

Looking over at his wife, I could see her resemblance to Nimlos and Nenloth. It was when she looked at me; I could see more of Êlúriel in her and it was alarming. They were a handsome couple even as age had begun to show. The man seemed far older than his wife as I had thought she would having lived much of her life as an elf.

Her gaze was set upon me and never wavered. Her stare ran through me like the sharpest blade—her green eyes and long golden hair of cascading waves. I found myself unable to escape her eyes that were as beguiling as Êlúriel’s.

“Your wife wished to come,” Ardôr asked curiously. “Why did you keep her away?”

“It was my mother, Sirurial of Brethil, that kept me away,” Arímë said as she stepped closer to us. “It was her story that kept us away.”

I watched as her gaze moved toward Êlúriel. I felt apprehensive yet powerless to do anything.

“Your mother,” Ardôr asked.

“My mother has been dead for many years,” she began. “She passed away a long time ago. I am the daughter of Gildúr. He was the brother of Annariel, mother of Queen Êlúriel.”

I did not hear the court gasping at her revelation nor did I see the gaze had drawn her and Êlúriel into a place of our own. 

“Ardôr, take Haldúir to see his daughter,” Êlúriel said. “I wish to speak to his wife alone.”

I turned to see her coming down from her throne her expression stoic and sharp.

“You wish me to leave,” I whispered.

“No,” she said without looking at me. “Stay."

As the court began to disperse around us, Fëaluin came to me.

“Do you wish for me to remain with you,” he asked. I knew he felt the tension between Arímë and Êlúriel.

“No, Fëaluin,” I whispered. “We will be fine, though I am sure you will remain close as always.”

He smiled and left. When all was quiet, the only sound to be heard was our own breath escaping through the tension between us.

“You are the cousin of Êlúriel,” I said. “You are a peredhel.”

“I was, Your Majesty,” she said. “It was not until I fell in love that I chose otherwise.”

“This I know well,” Êlúriel said. “I have known this since for some time, Thranduil. She told me through many letters over many years before she was lost to me.”

“You met our children, then ” I asked.

“I have,” she said. “I was one of many that had escaped Esgaroth before it was destroyed by Smaug.”

“Given your age, you were there when he destroyed Dale the first time,” I said sternly.

“I was,” she said. “May I see my daughter, Your Majesty?”

“Not quite,” Êlúriel began. “Why did you not come to see me over all these years until now when your daughter is betrothed to a Prince of the Woodland Realm, the very kingdom I, your cousin, now rules as its queen. You never thought to come to see me once. I want to know why.”

“I would rather see Súlelenth first,” she answered. “If I may? Then I will be glad to tell you whatever it is you wish to know.”

She moved closer to her—her anger rising to the surface in a way I had never seen before.

“You dare ask to see the child you refused to see for nearly a year,” Êlúriel asked. 

“Please, Lúri,” she said. “Do not think ill of me. The pain my mother felt when she lost my father lingered in me and I carried it with me for years. That pain I passed to my husband and then he carried it for me."

Êlúriel’s anger turned to sympathy at her plight as she went to her and embraced her. 

“My dearest cousin,” she said. “How I have missed you. I could never stay angry with you."

I felt a great release rise from my shoulders. When she released her, they looked at me smiling.

“He is as I said, is he not,” Êlúriel asked Arímë smiling.

“Yes he is,” Arímë said. “Far more so in person.”

“Fëaluin,” I called. “Take Arímë to Súlelenth, if you would."

Fëaluin came to us.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said. “Your daughter has been asking for her mother.”

He led Arímë away to see Súlelenth.

“Êlúriel,” I said. “I would like a word with you.”

She stood before me—happier than I had seen her.

“Yes, Thranduil,” she said innocently.

“What have you been telling your cousin about me?”

“My dearest husband,” she said embracing me. "There will plenty of time to tell you what I told her tonight. "For now, we have guests to entertain.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J.M.Miller 9-16-17

Chapter XVIII: Losing Êlúriel (Pt. I)

“The time went by quickly—harmoniously with great promise. I watched as my kingdom began to grow again beneath the changing seasons. Many days and nights I spent with my family were the most wondrous. I had not known pain for so long, I was not prepared for when it would come again—with a cruel vengeance that would change me forever.

Until that day, nothing seemed out of place. I noticed Legolas was far more sociable that I was at his age. Outside of the royal household he had made quite a few friends.

A new generation was growing up, coming of age and Eryn Galen seemed to become the pride of all kingdoms in Arda. For the first time, I felt like the king my father wanted me to become.

I stood upon the balcony overlooking the gardens speaking with Nimlos and Tatháron. Since the war, his parents had followed my mother into the Undying Lands and he had become the chief smith. He had become a husband and a father himself, with two daughters. His youngest was Mîráre and Legolas seemed to take a liking to her. We watched our children playing together—not care to be had.

“I see Mîráre has found a friend in your son,” Tatháron said smiling.

“Speaking to Elranduil, have you,” I asked. “Leave it to him he will have coupled every child in the kingdom before they can walk.”

“Well, you know, Ëariâth has taken a liking to Tarthôn,” Nimlos said. “Though I am hardly ready to give her hand just yet. Perhaps when she is older.”

“Perhaps a good time would be after she learns to read,” I said.

“I think that wise,” he said laughing.

Soon, Aramír approached—a look of concern on his face. He bowed.

“I have gotten word from Randúmîr of movement within our southern borders,” he said. “It is not anything he would know, but from what he has said, it comes from darkness.”

“What are you saying, Aramír,” I asked.

“Sauron,” he said.

All of us looked at one another knowing the chill that ran through us. We were joined by Elranduil, Fëaluin, Finëar, Aramoth, and Elmîr. I knew by their expressions we were all thinking the same.

“I see you have heard of the return of Sauron,” Fëaluin said. “But that is by far the least of your concern, Thranduil.”

“Aiwendil of Rhosgobel not long since taken his place near our borders,” Aramoth began softly. “He has seen one my wife long told me about.”

Nimlos’ eyes widen and color drained from his face.

“Glamhoth, Sauron thrakatul-ishi,” Aramír whispered. “They have returned to what Aiwendil calls Dol Guldur. There are not many but their evil is stronger.”

“He has returned,” Nimlos said. “The creature that took from me my family. The one that killed Queen Êlúriel’s mother, Thranduil.”

I stopped breathing. My only thought was to keep Êlúriel safe as I thought of her visions and those of her father.

“Tell me she does not know of such things,” I said looking at Nimlos fearfully. “Tell me she has no knowledge of what has come into our kingdom.”

“I do not know,” he said. “But Nenloth would never speak of it to her.”

“No,” Aramoth said. “Because she knows what she would do if she knew.”

“Tatháron, how are we on weaponry,” I asked.

“Very good,” he answered.

“I want better.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing and leaving quickly.

“I will speak with Nînuir and my father,” Elmîr said. “Come, Aramír. Aramoth.”

As they swiftly walked away I turned to Elranduil.

“Where is Êlúriel, Elranduil,” I asked. “Is she with Ardúin?”

“No,” he said. “I saw her by the pool alone.”

“You know what I want,” I said to him. “Take care of it with Fëaluin and Nimlos. Finëar, I want this garden empty upon my return. Let the ladies of the court know there is danger and to keep the children within the palace walls. Have Nenduriel watch after my sons until I return.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Finëar said, bowing.

I nearly ran to the pool where many memory I had since childhood to now were as the dreams of men. When I approached, I saw my wife. sitting beside the waters.

“I know why you are here, Thranduil,” she said without looking up. “I have known of this evil in our kingdom since it first came to us.”

“And you did not tell me,” I asked “Why?”

She looked up at me, her eyes as cold as ice. She rose and stood before me.

“You did not need to know until it was time,” she said as she began walking toward the palace.

“Êlúriel, do not walk away from me,” I said angrily.

She stopped walking and turned around slowly.

“I want to see my children,” she hissed. “If you would care to join me, you may.”

“I want to know why you did not tell me what you knew.”

“No,” she said.

“Êlúriel, we need to fight this evil,” I said. “You cannot keep such things from me.”

“You cannot change what will come,” she said, her voice lyrical once more as she approached me. “What comes will come and take from us what it will.”

“It will take nothing from us,” I said. “I will not let that happen.”

She put her arms around me and looked at me.

“I love you and will not lose you to this evil,” she said. “I cannot let that happen. Not now.”

“Not ever,” I said. “I am not going to let it destroy all that we have.”

She was quiet for a moment—lost in thought. She took my hand and kissed it.

“Come,” she said. “Rest, now. The hour grows late.”

“Are you tired, Êlúriel,” I asked. “Are you ill.”

“No,” she said. “I am quite well. As well as I can be as I am.”

“As you are,” I asked. “What you are is unusual.”

“What I am is your fault,” she said as we began walking toward the palace.

“Not this again. How is it my fault that you are what you are?”

“Because you love me too much,” she said.

I could not help myself. I started laughing.

“What,” I asked. “You are the way you are because I love you too much? That does not make sense at all. Would you prefer I love you less?”

“Of course not, Thranduil. I love you too much because you love me too much, so it makes quite a bit of sense.”

“Êlúriel, what are you trying to say?”

“I am the way I am because you love me too much and because you love me so much I love you too much and I let you love me too much.”

“So we love each other very much,” I said. “If my love made you the oddest elf in all of Arda, I suppose I will have to live with what I have done to you.”

As we made our way to our chambers through the empty halls she paused as the guards opened our doors.

“You will have to live with what you have done,” she said. “But not for long.”

“How do you mean,” I asked.

We entered our room and the doors closed behind us. She stood before me—more beautiful than I ever knew her.

“My love,” she began. “My greatest love. My husband and my king. I am afraid you have given me everything I could ever want in this life. I could not ask for more for there is too much already.”

I took her in my arms.

“I love you, Êlúriel,” I said. “What are you attempting to avoid telling me?”

“Nothing,” she said. “It is all true. Every word.”

She pulled away from me and went to our bed and lay across it. She looked at me. She seemed to be thinking once more.

“Thranduil,” she began softly. “I do not want to say anything right now.”

I took my place beside her.

“Why,” I asked. “What keeps you from telling me anything?”

She seemed so far away—the eyes I would drown in every day seemed shallow and empty. I began to worry because the color seemed to fall from her face.

“You worry too much,” she said.

“That is true, so why are you so distant,” I asked still worried. She loosed her gown as she looked at me. “Please tell me, Êlúriel.”

“I am so afraid that I will not be with you much longer,” she said. She had a fear in her eyes I had never seen before. “I do not want to leave you.”

“Where are you going,” I asked.

“To die,” she said softly. “I am afraid I am going to die.”

“Not this again, Êlúriel,” I began remembering what Nimlos had told me. "You know I would give my life to protect you and our children. Why does this vex you?”

“It does, Thranduil,” she said. “I cannot explain it.”

“I would die if anything happened to you,” I said. “I would never want to live without you.”

“But what of our sons,” she asked. “Who would be there for them?” I was beginning to think the discussion was becoming rather unwarranted.

“Why are we speaking of this, Êlúriel?” Then I remembered her mother and understood. “You are not your mother, Êlúriel.”

“No, I am not,” she said. “For she was not carrying a child when she died.”

I kissed her and would not let my lips leave hers because I did not want to talk about losing her or our child inside of her. I took her and I was determined to keep her from speaking another word. I was not going to let anyone or anything come between us. I was not going to let her go. My life meant nothing if I could not keep her safe from harm. Yet, I could not get the thought out of own mind.”--Excerpt from TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil by J.M.Miller 6-8-16