#tkwrt

Newsfeed #126 June 11, 2021 (11 Nárië)

Today, several things will happen:

1) A new excerpt will be posted at midnight from @tkwrtrilogy3. 

2) The article “Becoming Oropher” will be posted on WordPress in order to prepare everyone for the upcoming story told by Oropher in Part II of “Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen”.

I won’t go into all the annoying fights I went through with 2 internet companies to get here. I was knocked offline for over a month because one company was too expensive and lousy and the other one was affordable but the equipment is extraordinarily cheap and flimsy. On the upside of the latter, I now have 5G. Aside from now working on two trilogies (the other being @thesecretofthehouseofbourbonbook), we are finally back on track with TKWRT after a death in the family and an ongoing family dispute. 

Chapter VIII: The Rise of the Fall (Pt. IV)

The rumblings from Angband began as the sound distant thunder—the infrequent beating of the soul-less heart. Though nothing came from its depths as before, we were nonetheless well-equipped for battle. As time wore on, we became accustomed to the rumble. Iarûr worried we had become lax in our preparation for an attack from Morgoth. It had been a long period of calm at the borders of Doriath. The Girdle of Melian still protected us from even the subtlest changes in the world around us.

There were Men now and they were building kingdoms of their own. The naugrim had more contact with their race it was said whenever they came past our borders. King Thingol remained distraught over the loss of his beloved daughter even as he tried to resume his royal duties. He seemed unaware of the comings and goings of the court—much less of life beyond the gates of Menegroth.

We went about our lives with little understanding that our isolation was about to come to an abrupt end.

The day began as always—I rose to find myself alone as Mîrwen had let to attend to her duties for the queen. I went about my day in the library with Súlimë. After we finished, we made our way toward the main vestibule  where we would part ways until dinner.

Before the had our chance, I noticed Eldôr and Oropher standing inside the gates. Oropher said something to Beleg before he went on his way.

“Oropher,” I began. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, of course,” he answered. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Not this day,” Eldôr added. “I would not presume to know what goes on near the borders.”

“I beg your pardon,” Súlimë asked.

“He speaks of the wanderings of the naugrim,” Oropher said. “They seem rather busy these days.”

“With what,” I asked curiously.

“You can never be too sure with them,” he said. “I have never seen creatures so industrious.”

“I am sure it is nothing they cannot handle,” I said thinking of Ónarr. 

“They have tildes they have seen Daeron wandering in the East,” Eldôr said.

“Daeron,” I asked. “Was he not with Thingol when receiving Celebrían?”

“Yes,” Oropher said. “But she is no longer an elfling, you realize.

“Has it truly been that long,” Súlimë asked.

“Time passes as silently as it does quickly,” he said.

It was then that I realized how wise my son had become. Just as we were to retire for the evening with the setting of the sun, two guards came running toward us.

“What news have you,” Eldôr asked.

“They have come into Doriath,” one of the said catching his breath.

“When,” Oropher asked.

“I do not know when but they have journeyed long,” the other answered.

“Go,” Eldôr commanded. “Send word to Mablung quickly.”

The two elves moved swiftly past us and out of sight.

“Of whom do they speak,” I asked.

“Lúthien and her Beren,” Oropher answered. “They have returned.”–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 07-06-2020

Newsfeed #124 December 26, 2020 (26 Ringarë)

After such a tumultuous year, I am hoping to go into 2021 with cautious optimism. Yet, even as I continue working on this series, I will admit I spent a lot of time afraid to work in anticipation of another tragic event that would keep me from doing what I love. However, readers and fans have given me more courage to go on--especially in anticipation of this release--possibly due to the "bonus" material.

In this download of the Original Version of The Saga of Thranduil, there an exclusive look-see into The Epic of Eryn Galen (the prequel, if you will). The first two chapters begin a journey for the Elves that (for some) will last until the end of the War of the Ring (in The Lord of the Rings). Under starlight, the elves awaken on the shores of Lake Cuiviénen. With a stop in a place that would one day become known to the world as Mirkwood, the saga of Elves of the Woodland Realm begins. Book I is their origin story; their legacy.

To end 2020 with something such as this reminds me of how my own journey to this work began--with uncertainty in adversity; wandering in darkness until the first light of the Day Star finally revealed the world to me. Not unlike the characters, I must find the strength to carry on knowing that every night has a day. Hope is often born in times when it seems lost.

Chapter VIII: The Rise of the Fall (Pt. III)

The discussion was long since forgotten as time became routine once more. Life took on a malignant monotony that was tenuous at best. I knew the world was changing beyond the borders of Menegroth—Oropher would speak of it whenever he had the mind to wander near them to see for himself. As duty remained my shadow while I worked  in the library, curiosity became the obligation of the younger generations.

It seemed all but King Thingol feared the loss of Lúthien, though his grief in her absence was felt throughout Menegroth. Iarûr  would tell us often how fragile his emotions had become even as he attempted to appear as the mighty king he was before. Mîrwen would tell me how stoic queen Melian remained—her thoughts as distant as the stars. Whatever ancient wisdom or prophecy she knew, she kept to herself.

One day, while the ladies of the court were called to attend to Galadriel, I decided to leave the library with Súlwë for a short stroll outside. It seemed ages since we had seen the sun. The dimly lit caverns had started to remind me of the time before the rising of the Daystar. 

It was a clear day—neither warm nor cool. The air was crisp but the wind still as we crossed the bridge.

“How is Galadriel,” I asked.

“From what Celeborn has told me, she is quite well,” Súlwë answered. “But I doubt either of us truly know what it is like to be with child.”

“Mîrwen says she is due any day,” I added.

“I hope so for Celeborn’s sake. His expression has been one of panic as of late.”

“How can you tell,” I asked teasingly.

Súlwë laughed softly.

“Let us hope this elfling brings some joy to Menegroth,” he said. “It is much needed.”

“Yes, it is,” I answered. “It is far too dark for the First-Born these days.”

“Darkness is everywhere, Orothôn,” he began. “I came from light that was dimmed by the very heart of that darkness. It shall linger far longer than our time.”

“Then perhaps this elfling will be a respite from it,” I whispered.

We walked in silence for a time—listening to the sounds of nature. Upon our return, we were met on the bridge by Finëar and Saeros.

“Orothôn,” Finëar said, his voice winded from running. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“For me,” I asked.

“You are part of the royal family, are you not,” Saeros asked.

“What is it,” I asked, gruffly.

“The Lady Galadriel has given birth to a daughter,” Finëar said. “Go on, now. Oropher has your place.”

Súlwë nodded and I took my leave into Menegroth. Once inside, Êlengolas  was waiting.

“You are late,” he said.

“How can one be late for something that has no timetable,” I asked as we began walking toward our destination.

“We are Eldar,” he said. “We know everything.”

“We are male,” I added. “You must have us confused with the elleth.”

“I do not know about you, Orothôn, but I am married to one that cannot help but speak and I am compelled to listen.”

It was not long before we stood before two doors that was opened for us. I entered to see Galadriel lying in bed surrounded by the ladies of the court beside Queen Melian. I bowed to the Queen as Celeborn approached holding a tiny bundle with soft golden hair upon the whitest of skin.

“Is she not beautiful, Orothôn,” he asked beaming.

“Yes,” I said. “What do you call her?”

“Celebrían,” he said as his new daughter cooed.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful elfling,” I started. “What has the king said of her?”

“He has not seen her,” he said.

“Not seen her,” I asked. “I was told I was late.”

“He did not come,” Celeborn whispered. “Perhaps the birth of a daughter is too painful for him.”

In that moment, the doors opened again. It was King Thingol with Cúthalion and Mablung beside with Daeron and Saeros close behind.

“Your Majesty,” Celeborn and I said together.

“Is this the elfling born to Galadriel,” Thingol asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Celeborn answered.

The king looked upon the child as she opened her eyes. A slight smile came across his face.

“She is beautiful,” he said. “What is her name?”

“Celebrían, Your Majesty,” Celeborn answered again.

“Fitting name,” Thingol began. “You and your wife have my warmest congratulations on the birth of your daughter. Melian, a word if I may.”

We bowed as the Queen walked across the room and left with her husband and his guard. Celebrían began to cry as Celeborn returned her to Galadriel. The room itself seemed to sigh in relief after King Thingol left. Oropher come to me from is place beside the other princes.

“We did not think he would come,” he whispered to me.

“Is that what the Queen said,” I asked.

“No, Iarûr.”

“He spoke with him prior?”

“Not that I am aware,” Oropher began. “But Angband has awakened once more.”

“Angband?”

“Something has brought it to life,” he said. “What is the question.”

I was afraid to know and knew better not to speculate. The day was good and I wanted it to remain as such.--TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 02-23-2020

Chapter VI: The Second Awakening (Pt. IV)

Little else was said thereafter as the court was preparing for the wedding of Celeborn and Galadriel. The proposal did not come as a surprise to anyone—they made little attempt to hide their affection for one another. The ladies thought it would be a wonderful respite from thoughts of things that still weighed heavily on King Thingol.

We had seasons now that showed the passage of time in Doriath. Leaves began to change colors and fall from tree branches to blanket the forest floor beneath as nature’s quilt. There came autumn rains and winter snow with the cooling air that chilled our breath when we spoke. The elflings enjoyed the seasons; finding new things to do outside to entertain themselves. I would catch Oropher and Eldôr building elves of snow when they caught a chance from their duties.

When all was green once more, the Great Hall was filled with flowers and adorned with drapes of matching colors in preparation for the matrimonial celebration. Celeborn spent most of his time with his brother, Galathil, Oropher, and Amdir when he was not with his father.

The day began calmly enough—I was lying in bed alone as Mîrwen had left at daybreak to attend to Galadriel. I knew the day would not be interrupted by war. We were living in a time of great peace. Even Círdan had returned to Doriath for the occasion from Eglarest. As I lay looking up at the elaborately carved stone ceiling, I found my mind drift into thoughts unknown. The room seemed to change as it morphed into the forest of my past.

There were vines twisted around the trunks of trees and creatures with several legs sprouting of their smaller bodies. They spewed a silken cord that ensnarled the treetops. Even as the sun seemed to shine, there was a darkness that fought against its light. I suddenly realized I was walking through this world—searching for someone.

Soon I found her; a maiden in a green cloak standing in a clearing where the only ray of sun beamed down. Her back to me, she remains motionless as I moved toward her slowly. When I was upon her, I spoke.

“Do I know you, my lady,” I asked.

She turned toward me. Her face was beautiful save for her eyes—only large black holes looked back at me.

“Taur-e-Ndaedelos,” she said in a raspy voice that echoed through the forest. “Taur-e-Ndaedelos.”

I screamed. I looked around and realized I was in my chambers and sitting upward on my bed. A knock came to the door.

“Enter,” I said. I was still shocked at what I had seen. Oropher entered.

“Ada,” he began. “Are you well? You look shaken.”

“I am fine, son,” I answered. “Am I late for the ceremony?”

“No,” he said sitting at the end of the bed. “It does not begin for some time. I came to see after you.”

“Did your mother send you,” I asked.

“No,” he answered. “I heard you speaking to someone. Who were you speaking to?”

“You heard me speaking to no one,” I said. “I am the only one here as you can see. Perhaps you heard someone in the hall.”

“I heard you ask someone if you knew them.”

My blood ran cold. How could he hear my thoughts?

“It was not me,” I lied. I wanted to know if he believed me.

“You said, ‘do I know you, my lady’.”

“It was nothing,” I answered.

“You were having a vision,” Oropher said. “I know because I have had the same one many times. The lady with death in her eyes.”

I nodded. I wanted to know more yet feared anything else my son would reveal. Instead, he nodded in agreement.

“We will keep such things to ourselves,” he finally said. “For now, today is for Celeborn.”

I sighed deeply. I was relieved he decided to speak of something new.

“How is he,” I asked.

“Terrified,” he answered with a laugh. “Though much of his fear comes from what Eldôr has said to him.”

“Like father, like son,” I said to myself thinking about Valdôr. “Be grateful it was not Êlengolas that spoke with him.”

“It is not too late,” he said rising. “The day has only begun. Do you wish me to stay with you while you prepare?”

“That is not necessary, Oropher,” I answered. “I thank you for your concern. I will be fine.”

Oropher smiled as he headed for the door. He paused then turned around.

“I have great hope for the future,” he said. “Even if It is filled with darkness. For every night, there is a day.”

I knew what he meant—our vision was a foretelling. I smiled at him and the was gone. I decided it was time to rise. I did not wish to have any more visions. I rang for the servants and waited impatiently for their arrival. When they arrived, I was never happier for their annoyance. When I was dressed, I left quickly for the Grand Hall.--–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 7-22-2019

Note to @staff : This is an elf playing the harp.