#fealuin

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 XIX (EXT): Mirkwood Pt. II

“Years went by like days and my children were beginning to grow up. They had begun to sleep in their own chambers and spent much of their time with the other children of the court. The darkness of our kingdom had not kept me from the joy of watching them grow. My whole world lay beneath the earth yet there was as much light as before if not more.

One day, I was looking over some scrolls in my study. I had become accustomed to my children coming to me regularly to ask for something. I quickly glanced up from my work to see Isílriel. She was still in her youth but very quick witted.

“Ada,” she said and she walked in.

“Yes, Isílriel,” I asked. “What is it?”

“I was wondering why we are not as other elves,” she said woefully.

“How do you mean,” I asked.

“Why can we not go outside,” she asked. “Why must we stay inside always?”

I looked at her as I heard my heart start to break. She was not yet born when our kingdom was cursed by the evil of Sauron. Her brothers were young then, but Legolas and Tarthôn knew what she did not.

“Where is your mother,” I asked. “She could answer you better than I can."

“I want you to tell me,” she said looking at me defiantly.

“May I ask why.”

She walked right over to my table, glaring so I had to look at her.

“Because, Ada,” she said. “You are the king."

“Yes, I am,” I answered. “But your mother is the queen.”

Her face remained stoic and her eyes fixed on me. I thought perhaps I had won the argument.

“But you were born here,” she said. “Nana was not.”

“You are a very clever little elf,” I said. “Perhaps one day I will tell you all there is to know. Now, I am rather busy, Isílriel.”

Her eyes squinted and her face tightened. She could see that I was avoiding her questions.

“One day, Ada, you will have to tell me more,” she said.

In that moment, she reminded me of myself at her age. As quickly as she appeared she ran out of the room and almost into Fëaluin as he entered.

“And what was Princess Isílriel doing in here,” Fëaluin asked.

“You know full well what she was doing in here, Fëaluin.” He glared at me.

“Thranduil? She is going to continue to ask until you tell her. She is just as stubborn as you.”

I continued to read and smiled at him.

“I have all the time in the world,” I said.

“Yes, you do, Thranduil,” he began. “So does Isílriel.”

He smiled at me, bowed and left. I sighed, put my work down and went to find my daughter.

As I made my way down the hall, I wandered how to tell Isílriel in a manner she could understand. I passed the main gate and a sanctuary that was a garden beneath the ground. Our existence relegated to caverns, elven skills made it possible to make things as close to what they were before the shadows came. It was smaller than the gardens in which I had grown, but they were no less beautiful.

I watched Legolas shooting his bow. For his tender age, he was remarkably skilled. With him were Elenadar and Elenatar. They had grown into their adulthood nicely. Much like Fëaluin, they had grown to my height, both had the richest and darkest brown hair with the silver eyes of their mother.

Nearby stood Tarthôn. He reminded me so much of Melros. Eyes as green as spring leaves with long hair of gold with a touch of the red of autumn leaves. Watching them took me away to happier days. I longed for the days I took for granted when I thought nothing could happen—when I thought immortality was impenetrable and evil was myth.

Elenadar saw me and whispered to Legolas. He looked up at me and smiled and ran up to where I stood. Tarthôn took his place for practice. Being raised closely with Legolas, his skills were just as impressive to me.

“Ada,” I heard Legolas chirped. “See how I have improved?”

“Yes,” I said. “You have very much."

He was next to me now, standing to my forearm. He looked at me and I began to remember the day he was born and watching him with his mother.

“Have you seen Isílriel,” I asked.

Legolas’ face seemed to flush.

“She asked about the outside,” he asked softly.

“Yes,” I said. “How did you know that?”

“She saw outside when the main gates opened, Ada. When your uncle arrived.”

I looked at him curiously. He was an infant when my uncle left for the Gray Havens.

“My uncle,” I asked.

“I am afraid I arrived rather unexpectedly,” I heard a familiar voice. I turned to see Fëaluin standing with Eldôr. I could not help but to embrace him.

“Uncle, you have returned,” I said.

“Yes,” he said. “I see you family has grown since last I saw you.”

When I let go, I felt like a child again yet somehow glad for that feeling.

“It has, Eldôr,” I said proudly. “You have come acquainted with Legolas, I understand.”

“Eldôr told me all about you when you were my age,” Legolas said gleefully. “You shot a tree with an arrow?”

“More than trees,” Fëaluin said. “I believe he might have hit a few blades of grass.”

“As you were, son,” I said grinning at Fëaluin stiffly.

Legolas returned to his lessons as Fëaluin followed him to see his sons.

“Tell me, Eldôr,” I began. “How is mother and Valdúril. Êlúriel would love to hear news of Nendúril."

“They all made it safely to Mithlond, but I thought it better to return. It was best for me not to go into the Undying Lands quite yet. Especially when I heard of the news of the unfortunate change of our identity from out of Lothlórien.”

“Yes, it was unfortunate,” I said angrily. “Whatever reasons for it, you will never see me turn my back against the wind even if it were to blow from our own kin. I have a kingdom to rule whether by Eryn Galen or Mirkwood it is called.”

“You are very much your father’s son,” he said. “Oropher would be very proud. Have you thought of what you will say to your daughter?”

“Of course I have not,” I answered. “She is so inquisitive about everything.”

“Just like you were at that age,” he said. “Now you know what it was like for us.”

We walked into the palace to find Êlúriel. With Eldôr at my side, Mirkwood began to feel like the home I once knew.”--Excerpt from TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J.M.Miller (9-26-16)

Chapter II: The Rising of the Everstar (Pt. IV)

“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 borders 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 have seen her again. I would have a reason to take the journey of my ancestors.

In 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.”

“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. I looked at Ardôr.

“Do you know what this is about,” I asked him.

“No,” he answered.

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 in the middle of the room together calmly.

“Nenduîl. Tárimë,” 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 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.”

“No one likes us anymore,” Tárimë said sadly. “Do you like us?

“Everyone loves you,” I said. “And of course I love you.”

“Are we really different,” Nenduîl asked.

“You are special,” I began. “Not different. You are elves. Like Aranduil. 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. “I do not want to die. What is die, Ada?”

That took my breath from me. A child had not called me that for years. I was given the responsibility of their care but tried to keep their parents in their memory.

“Why did you call me that, Nenduîl,” I asked.

“You are,” he 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. “What is die?”

“It is when you sleep forever,” I said. “You can never wake up.”

“Are we mortal,” Tárimë asked. “Is that why we are different?”

“You are not mortal, Tárimë,” I said. “And you will never be mortal.”

“That is good,” she said.

“Why do you say that, Tárimë,” I asked.

“Because if we were to die, we would never see you again.”

They both embraced me. I felt happier than I had in a very long time. I was in love with Nenduîl and Tárimë. They brought hope back to me.”--Excerpt TKWR:BIII To Eryn Lasgalen by J.M.Miller 8-29-16