Jaynaé Marie

Uhmm, Idk. 😞 

~

@iamjaynaemarie @storytimeteller1 @peonies-and-poppies @thina18 @theothermegnolia @queenoferebor1204 @clematis70

Relax. It’ll be okay, @fortunatelyclevercandy. I don’t know nothing. I’ll die an old lady alone because I have ridiculously high standards. I mean, who requires a guy to have a brain that reads or writes or owns a farm with a tractor and dogs. Or a British accent…and manners…next life, I guess I’ll come back as a Sim.

My ‘idk’ wasn’t refer to your previous comment @iamjaynaemarie but to Hannah’s tweet 😊 

Ps: Lee has tweeted this now –> 

Lee Pace‏ @leepace

The Neapolitan Novels by Elena Ferrente are absolutely absorbing. I’m on the 4th book. #ImWithHer

Good, good. #ImStillSingle. @fortunatelyclevercandy. I love myself. ImWithOut. 😔🤔🙂 Life goes on.

Me so Loki.

Chapter IX: Last Days in Eryn Galen (Part III)

The next morning I walked alone toward our northern borders. Êlúriel had left before dawn with my mother to tend to courtly duties. I had things to attend—insuring the safety of the borders while we were away in battle. As I stood on top the hill looking into the forest trees remembering the day when Êlúriel entered Eryn Galen and my heart. Where I stood, we were wedded. The sun seemed to shine dimmer despite the clear skies.

“I thought I might find you here,” I heard Fëaluin say from behind. “This is the place where we came in childhood and where you grew up and fell in love.”

“I will leave it soon,” I said. “I know not whether I will return. Of all the things in this world I could lose, it cannot be Êlúriel. Should I die, she would follow. Our souls lost forever never to again to be together. That is worse than death.”

“You have yet to march into battle,” he said. “How do you know what will come? There is nothing known for sure in life except that we are born, we can die or sail into the west. Though, not even from certain death elves can escape. When, is not for us to know.”

“Have you seen what we must face, Fëaluin,” I asked desperately. “Have you seen that evil flowing from that place? It is far darker than told us in our youth. The horror pulsates from a blackness no heart should know.”

“I know well where we go, Thranduil. Mordor. The Black Gates. From where all shadow rises. I have seen it many times. Once when I was with father and Fínduin. I am not going to say I do not fear where we go, but I will not worry the outcome of what is unknown. Facing this evil is something we must do. We have no choice.”

We stood there for a moment in silence. I thought of many things I had done as child growing up in the forests with my friends. How quickly the world we knew had changed. We had lost our innocence to the realities of the world beyond our borders.

“Fëaluin,” we heard a voice say. It was Melros. “I think you should come with me.”

“Why, Melros,” he asked. “Something amiss?”

“Not that I am aware,” he said. “Should I tell Linurial you are not available to see her at this time? Yes, I will tell her this. And your two sons to which she gave birth.”

I looked at Fëaluin. He seemed to fall into a trance. Melros was trying hard not to laugh at him.

“Twin sons,” I said smiling. “Well, let me be the first to congratulate you and Linurial.”

“Twins,” he said, looking between me and Melros, finally breaking into a smile. “I have two sons.”

“Yes,” Melros said. “That is what Eleniâth has told me. I would suspect she would know as she attended Linurial.”

“Let us go,” I said. “For there is some good to celebrate.”

We began to walk toward the palatial kingdom that lay before us. It seemed as if I had never seen it before. I tried to keep my mind on what was good in the moment, but I knew it would not last much longer. Our time to leave was growing closer and our lives would change our eternity.

“I just learned that Arandil is with child, Thranduil,” Melros whispered to me on our way. “She has been so for a time but she swore me to secrecy.”

“Why would she keep such joyous news from the kingdom,” I asked. “That is pleasant news, Melros. Especially in these times.”

He stopped me as Fëaluin met his brother and led him away. Melros seemed to have fallen into despair.

“She is afraid I will not return,” he said. “She and my mother think I will not return. I know I will, Thranduil. If not on my feet, then upon my shield.”

“Do not say such things, Melros,” I said. “You will return to them.”

“If I do not,” he began. “Will you do me an honor, my friend?”

“Anything.”

“Take care of the child she carries,” he said, his green eyes filling with tears. “I know Arandil. She will not stay if I am gone. Mother has already swore to my father that she will follow Arandil into Aman should he not return alive. My son will need a father.”

“I will do anything for you,” I said. “But you will return. You must. If you are so sure you will have a son.”

He smiled, brightening the moment again as we began to walk toward the palace.

“It will be a son, Thranduil. I am the only son of Eldûmír and Aralómë. I come from a line of only sons. I have decided his name.”

“What might you call your son,” I asked.

“His name will be Tarthôn,” he said proudly. “Arandil has agreed.”

“And if it is a daughter?”

“It will be a son, Thranduil,” he said confidently. “I can feel it. I know it. And he will be a good son.”

“I am sure he will be, Melros.”

I would not remember his words until I returned to my kingdom saw for myself the son he would never know. Later, as night fell, I spoke briefly to Fëaluin beneath the colonnade. He was overjoyed that Linurial had twin boys.

“When will you come see the boys, Thranduil,” he asked excitedly. “They are beautiful. I have named them Elenadar and Elenatar. Father is beside himself. His first born grandsons. I fear King Oropher will have him exiled for talking about them so much.”

“I would not worry about that,” I laughed. “But how will you tell them apart?”

“I have not thought of that,” he said. “That is going to be hard. They are identical.”

As we stood together, Êlúriel came toward us.

“Your Highness,” Fëaluin said, bowing. “Linurial sends her gratitude.”

“I was glad to be of assistance,” she said graciously. “Your sons are beautiful and you are quite blessed.”

He bowed and took his leave. She looked at me and kissed me as gentle as the night.

“I saw the twins, today,” she said. “I was there when they came into the world.”

“It must hurt you,” I said. “To know I leave you without a part of me. As Elranduil, Fëaluin, Melros and Fínduin.”

“It does not bother me, Thranduil,” she said. “I want you to be here when the time comes for your heir to come into this world. I do not want you to be in battle. The thought of your son losing his father. What would I have to say to him of a father he never knew?”

I smiled at her, thinking about Melros.

“I would want to be here,” I said. “But how would you know it would be a son?“

“It will be a son,” she said, her voice sounding far different than I remembered. “You will have a son, and he will do a great many things that will be known throughout Arda. Your son will be known by kings of men.”

Suddenly she seemed to return from where she was for a moment. She smiled at me and kissed me again. She took my hand.

“Êlúriel, are you well,” I asked. “You seem different tonight.”

“I am fine, Thranduil. Come with me. We do not have many nights left together.”

We walked toward the palace in silence. I could not get what she had said out of my mind—much less how she had spoken. It was haunting. As we continued on our way, I wondered to myself who was this beautiful creature I had married and how blessed I was to have found her.”–Excerpt from TKWR: BII The Saga of Thranduil by J.M.Miller 2-26-16

Though war looms within days, there is some good news for Eryn Galen: Melros and Arandil are expecting, Fëaluin and Linurial have twin sons, Elenadar and Elenatar. His brother Fínduin and his wife Sinomë are expecting and Elranduil and his wife Ardúin are expecting. Thranduil's wife, Êlúriel tells him that he will have a son that "will be known by kings of men.”

I have to look like someone cares. Pardon the intrusion. Chapter IX is almost done. Surprisingly, I've written a book longer than the Hobbit about one of its characters that is on all of at least 5 pages of the original book, mentioned little in 21 volumes and three novels less than 5 times (approximately) without changing a thing. Wish I had people who cared about accomplishment. This would be a good one. As you were--not paying me any mind. I gave up caring.