Chapter IV: The Battle of the North (Pt II)
“I stared at my armor for what seemed a lifetime as I sat alone in the familiar workshop of the smiths. It was my third and my last suit I would wear into battle. I could see years of wars in its reflection. I remembered the fallen and the blood-soaked fields where they fell.
All things tragic and all things beautiful seemed to happen the day before no matter how long it had been. When you remember them, they are more than memory. They are reminders of why we continue to live. They are the hopes we hold onto for better days before us. They keep us from dying even when that is all we want to do.
“How do you like it,” I heard Tatháron ask. “It should fit you well.”
“It resembles my father’s,” I answered. “The one he died in during the War of the Last Alliance.”
“It was commissioned by your father for you when you became king,” he said. “My father created it. After Oropher was killed, he made me and my mother swear never to allow you to see it. But it was Eldôr that asked me to bring it forward for you after Celeborn left.”
“Your mother asked him to do so if there came another great battle,” he said.
“Well, should I die, I should fall as my father, then.”
“You will not fall,” he said. “You are a great warrior.”
“Great warriors fall, Tatháron,” I said. “I have seen it happen time and again.”
“True, but not you,” he said.
He went from the room and returned with a mail of mithril.
“No,” I said. “Give it to Tarthôn.”
“He already has his own,” he said smiling. “All the princes have their own. I wish for my grandson to return as well.”
“Of course,” I smiled. “Elendôr.”
“Tárwen held me to watch over Ninyáre and her sons before she left with Mîráre for Aman. At least one of them has gone to them.”
I could not tell him that Êlenuil was in Mithlond so I smiled and nodded.
“I will not ask how you came by so much mithril,” I said. “Know that I am grateful for it.”
I rose to leave to return to my study.
“When you return from battle,” Tatháron began, “What will you do?”
“I will not leave this world,” I said. “Not until I know what has become of Legolas. Only then will I decide.”
He walked out of the foundry into the falling night. It was cool but the warmth of spring begun to emerge. It was night such as this long ago that after emerging from the caves, I met with Êlúriel before going to battle. I longed for her comfort again.
I thought about her—wandering through the gardens in her flowing white dress her hair carrying the breeze gently beneath the night sky. Thinking on her, I made my way toward my palace. It was quiet except for the creatures of the night lamenting the stars. From a distance I could see someone waiting at the gates.
When I grew closer, I realized it was Nimlos sitting upon the stone railing looking down into the river waters.
“Why are you out this evening,” I asked as I approached him. “I would think you would be with Sildúriel.”
“She is with Aruilos,” he said. “This will be his first battle. I cannot blame her concern. I worry as well. Perhaps ever more. He is my only son.”
“I know how you must feel,” I said. “One son is out in the world and the other will join yours in battle.”
“My daughter would join him if it were not for Aranduil,” he said. “We both know how difficult Ëariâth can be.”
“She loves Tarthôn,” I said. “I could not ask for a better wife for my son.”
“I know you are thinking about more than your sons,” he said.
“Yes,” I said. “I miss Êlúriel. But I always do. That is not a secret easily kept.”
“More so before a battle, Thranduil.”
“Before we went to Dagorlad, I promised I would return to her,” I said. “I kept my word but I cannot keep it now for she is not here to return to. It is as I ride into battle without someone to return for.”
“That is not true,” Nimlos said. “You know better. You have everything to return for. You have your family, your people and your kingdom. If my cousin were here, she would scold you for saying such things.”
“And she would do it until I asked for her forgiveness,” I said. “Then she would never allow me to forget.”
“She inherited that from her mother, I am afraid. Poor Uncle. Whenever he had words with his wife, everyone could tell by the look on his face. I find it rather amusing to see that same look on Aramoth’s face after he has words with my sister.”
“It must run in your family,” I said laughing. “She may be young, but Tárimë is quite adept at it as well.”
We laughed together for a moment. I began to feel like myself for a moment.
We turned to see Nenduîl running toward us. He leapt into my arms and embraced me.
“Why are you out this late,” I asked “Is your sister sleeping?”
“Yes, Ada,” he said. “I was looking for you.”
“You have found me, Nenduîl,” I said. “Shall I take you to bed?”
“Look, Thranduil,” Nimlos said.
I looked to see Arawë and Aldáros coming toward us frantically. Still winded, they bowed before me.
“Your Majesty,” Arawë began. “Randumîr sent word that a horde of glamhoth march this way and will arrive by morning.”
“What else did he say,” I asked.
“One horde attacked the borders of Lothlórien not long after Lord Celeborn returned,” Aldáros said. Another attack they will endure tomorrow.”
Nimlos and I looked at one another concerned.
“Follow Nimlos into the palace,” I commanded. “I must do something first. Nimlos, call after Fëaluin and will come to you in my study.”
They bowed and all of them made their way into the palace.
“Will you fight tomorrow, Ada,” Nenduîl asked.
“Yes, Nenduîl,” I said carrying him toward the main gates. “I will fight tomorrow.”
“Will you win,” he asked as I entered the palace and walked toward his chambers.
“Yes,” I said. “I would not worry but you and your sister must stay inside the palace. Give me your word.”
He nodded as his chamber doors were opened and I tucked him into bed. I looked upon him for a moment then kissed his forehead.
“Sleep,” I said. “I will see you when I return.”
He nodded and drifted off. I went to Tárimë and kissed her as she slept. As I was leaving, I heard a voice.
“I will be here when you come back,” Tárimë whispered. “I promise, Ada.”
I turned and smiled then quickly left to prepare for battle one last time.”–Excerpt from TKWR Book III: To Eryn Lasgalen by J.M.Miller (11-12-16)
Image: ©2012, 2013, 2014. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: The Unexpected Journey, The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug, The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies. All Rights Reserved.
