Jaynaé Marie

Chapter VI: The Second Awakening (Pt. V)

I took my place beside Mîrwen—I marveled at how she radiated when she smiled at me. We stood with Elmo and Orowen, Galadhon and Celebriel, Galathil and Nárwen on either side of King Thingol and Queen Melian. Oropher, Amdir, Galathil, and Eäros stood with their wives beside Celeborn and Galadriel as they stood before the court to take their vows. 

“Celeborn, son of Galadhon,” Daeron began. “You have chosen Galadriel?” “I have,” Celeborn said proudly.

“And you, Galadriel, daughter of Finarfin,” another elf said to her. “You have chosen Celeborn?”

“I have,” Galadriel said gazing into Celeborn’s eyes.

Daeron and the elf bowed to Things as he stood to address the couple.

“I say to you both, you have my blessing.”

They shared a kiss and the Great Hall erupted with cheers. Servants cleared the hall to prepare for evening celebrations as we left with the family into an adjacent room beyond the thrones. Once there, I noticed King Thingol speaking to his queen quietly across from us. The door opened.

“Saeros,” Thingol said to the elf that entered. “Come.”

I recognized him as the other officiant. Unlike most elves in the service of the king, he was a Nandor. Today was his first official duty as a member of the council. Graceful and fair, his demeanor reminded me of Denethor.

“That was a beautiful ceremony,” Orowen began. “It was indeed the respite from the goings-on beyond these walls we needed.”

“If you are referring to the sundering of the lands around Beleriand by the sons of Fëanor, Fingolfin, and Finarfin, then yes, it was,” Galadhon said quietly.

“It is your son’s wedding day,” Elmo began sternly. “There will be none of that.” “Where has Celeborn gone to,” Mîrwen asked, looking around.

“He is probably with his brother and his cousins,” I said. “His bride was last seen with Lúthien and her ladies.”

“I am rather looking forward to this evening,” Galathil said. “How long has it been since we have found cause to celebrate?”

“Too long,” I said.

Shortly, we found ourselves summoned to the Great Hall again for feast and merriment into the night. When I was not dancing with Mîrwen, I spent my time observing my kin enjoying themselves. Even Súlwë found a measure of happiness as he danced with Galadriel. For a moment, it seemed the past was forgiven.

One morning not long after, I lay in bed—my eyes shut with my mind drifting peacefully in tranquil darkness. I felt Mîrwen move closer to me, her lips touching mine. I opened my eyes to find her looking at me. We kissed again and soon we were lost in each other’s arms.

“How is my wife this morning,” I asked.

“She is very happy,” she said. 

She kissed me again, but I did not respond. 

“What is the matter?”

“It is too quiet,” I answered. “Something is about to happen.”

“Do not be silly,” Mîrwen said, kissing me again.

There was a knock at the door. Mîrwen frowned at me as I smiled at her.

“I told you so,” I whispered. “One moment, if you will,” I said to the door.

Mîrwen rose from our bed and covered herself with her robe.

“Enter,” she said.

When the door opened, several ladies entered. I recognized two of them.

“Good morning, Nimeithel; Valdúril.”

“Orothôn,” Nimeithel said as she turned to Mîrwen. “Wonderful news! Níndi is with child and Galathil has asked Meriel for her hand.”

“That is wonderful news,” Mîrwen cried gleefully.

“Yes,” I began. “Wonderful.”

They all turned and looked at me for what seemed a lifetime.

“Apologies, my love,” Mîrwen finally said. 

She motioned for the ladies to follow her to her dressing corner so I could properly cover myself in my robe. It was then another knock came. I sighed deeply.

“Enter,” I said as I sat down on the bed. It was Êlengolas and Finëar.

“You are not in bed,” Finëar said.

I pointed behind me.

“Oh,” he said again.

More dressers entered as Mîrwen emerged dressed for the day. She came to me and whispered into my ear.

“Until later,” she said as she kissed my cheek.

I nodded and she disappeared into the hall with the ladies.

“I do not wish to know,” Êlengolas began. “Please keep that to yourself.”

I let out a weak laugh as the dressers got to work.

“Any word from court other than Galathil’s engagement?”

“Lady Galadriel has left Beleriand,” Finëar said.

“Why,” I asked.

“It is nothing,” Êlengolas added. “She went to see her brother.”

“The king allowed this,” I asked.

“He cannot deny her such a request even as he and his brothers are exiled.”

“Did Celeborn leave with her?”

“No, he remains,” Finëar answered. “He has duties to attend to here.”

“He is the grandson of the king’s brother. Let no grudge go unheld,” Êlengolas said as the dressers finished and left.

The three of us made our way toward the Great Hall.

“Where does Finrod make his home,” I asked.

“Not far from our southwest borders,” Finëar said. “The sons of Fëanor are our north and east.”

“Do not forget Fingolfin and his sons,” Êlengolas said. “They occupy territory in the Northwest regions. All is right with the world.”

“For now,” I said to myself as we continued on our way.

As the years went on, our world began to grow. There were noticeably more elves and naugrim walking the hills and valleys of Arda. After the birth of Eäros and Níndi’s son Ëarmîr, Galathil wed Meriel. Not long thereafter, their daughter Nimloth was born.

In the days following, my visions became more frequent and vivid. I told no one of the darkness and the despair I saw but Oropher seemed to understand whenever I became distant from friends and family.

There were rumors out of Ossiriand from the remnants of the Laiquendi still residing there. A new creature had appeared. Unlike the naugrim, it was said to be far more pleasant to look upon, yet their presence was unwelcome. Saeros would scoff at the stories of his lost people as fantasy as their plight of living under the eyes of two sons of Fëanor was less than ideal. 

Queen Melian, however, took these rumors to heart. She said very little on the matter except to tell us not to dismiss these tales out of hand for creation continues under the Heavens. After a while, the rumors would be put aside and we went on with our lives—until the night when the rumors came within the borders of Doriath. 

For elves, the night brought us comfort. We awoke beneath the stars so it was not uncommon for any of us to find ourselves outside on cloudless nights lost in thought. On nights such as this, Lúthien would wander out of the palace. It was unclear why—for it had started to become routine. Upon her return each time, her behavior seemed changed. Her cousin Galathil fell suspicious first—telling Oropher she was almost tolerable. Still, no one said a word. It was in her nature, we told ourselves.

One moonlit night, I went to find my son. He was on watch in the keep. When I arrived, he was lost in thought, gazing into the sky.

“What is on your mind, son,” I asked.

“Not a thing,” he said, turning his gaze toward me. “I was enjoying the view.”

I went to join him at the window. It was one of the most beautiful nights I had seen.

“What a view it is,” I said. “It is breathtaking.”

“Perhaps if we were outside,” he began. “I would love to take Nimeithel for a walk.”

“There will be other nights,” I said. “How is Nimeithel?”

“She has been tasked to look after Lúthien,” he answered. “To see where she wanders on the orders of grandmother. She thinks Lúthien has found a new place to wander but she wants to make sure it is not too far from Menegroth.”

“Has she returned,” I asked.

“She never left,” Oropher laughed. “Lúthien escaped before she could follow.”

We look out the window and saw Daeron leaving—crossing the bridge swiftly.

“Where is Daeron going,” I asked.

Oropher looked for himself.

“I do not know, but he has been often wandering out of Menegroth as of late searching for Lúthien.”

“Perhaps he goes for the king,” I said.

“The king does not know,” he answered.

“How is that possible?”

“I cannot say,” Oropher began. “But he does not know Daeron is in love with his daughter.”

“I beg your pardon,” I cried.

“It is true, Ada,” he said. “I do not know how no one has noticed how he looks upon her.”

“Everyone looks upon Lúthien with high regard,” I said.

Oropher laughed.

“He looks upon her as I look upon Nimeithel or Eldôr looks upon Valdúril. He is in love but it is unrequited.”

I looked out again to see Daeron returning from his outing. Even at a distance, I could see he was infuriated.

“He is not happy,” I said.

“How can you tell,” Oropher asked. “He always looks that way.”

“Something has him overwrought,” I said. “Perhaps I should go after him.”

“There is no need to,” Oropher said pointing into the night.

I saw Lúthien coming across the bridge and into the gates. We looked at each other perplexed. I would not be long before the answer to our questions would come walking into the court of King Thingol.––TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 8-03-2019

Note to @staff : This is Liv Tyler as Arwen. Duh.

Things are about to get interesting. What is Lúthien doing at night? You will find out soon enough.

Chapter V: The Coming of Time (Pt. III)

I do not know how long we stood watching this new light that outshined the stars rise higher and higher. It was hard to step away but I longed to tell Mîrwen our son had returned. I turned around and nearly knocked her over.

“Mîrwen,” I said, startled. She kissed me tenderly then smiled.

“Our son is home,” she began.

“I was on my way to tell you,” I said as I looked around. Oropher was nowhere to be seen.

“He has gone in search of Nimeithel,” Mîrwen said. “She will be most pleased.”

“Of course. As will Valdúril. Have you come to see what has risen?”

“I have come for you, Orothôn,” she began. “Though this new marvel beckons to us all. It is comforting.”

“It is,” I said, taking her hand. “But you are more so to me.”

I kissed her like the first time. Everything seemed as it was before we had come into Doriath. We made our way into Menegroth toward our chambers for what would be known as the first night

As we lay together not long thereafter, our moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Shall we let them enter,” I asked Mîrwen.

“What would you say,” she asked. “Would you send them away? It could be a matter of grave importance.”

“It also could be nothing at all,” I answered.

The knocking continued. Mîrwen rose quickly and put on her robe. She looked at me. I sighed and got up and did the same.

“Enter,” I said.

When the doors opened, Iarûr entered with Finëar.

“You must come to the court quickly,” Finëar said. “It is a matter of grave importance.”

Mîrwen laughed at me as two ladies entered and took her behind our dressing screen.

“How grave,” I asked.

“It is nothing,” Iarûr began.

“Then why are you here,” I asked, glaring at Finëar.

“Why are you not dressed for court,” Finëar asked.

“Because it is most inconvenient to go to bed fully clothed.”

Two elven courtiers entered and began to dress me.

“Has King Things called an audience,” I asked.

“He is with Queen Melian,” Iarûr began as Mîrwen emerged impeccably dressed.

“Is Mother and Father with them,” she asked.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Finëar said, bowing. “Your brothers as well.”

“They are in the Great Hall,” she asked.

“No,” Iarûr answered. “They are outside. Your son Oropher and his wife are already there.”

The sound of my son’s name piqued my curiosity.

“Oropher,” I asked as my dressers finished and left with the ladies.

“Shall we,” Iarûr said as he motioned to the door. Mîrwen took my hand and we followed Finëar and Iarûr out of our room and toward the front gates. I noticed how silent things were, save for the echo of our footsteps. I started to fear something was amiss.

“Something must be wrong,” I whispered to Mîrwen. She said nothing as we continued on our way. Once we reached the gates, the guards opened them. A flood of bright light rolled into the hall. I was afraid to go further.

“It is alright,” Finëar said. “It is only the light of the Daystar.”

Slowly we walked into the world that once existed under the light of many stars. It was now a world filled with vivid color. Above us, the sky was a light blue as the light of the Daystar blinded anyone that tried to look upon it. I looked around—I should see other elves anew—their features distinct and even more beautiful. There were elflings playing in the crisp green grass beneath the canopy of tall trees; their branches covered in all forms of leaves of many colors.

“Nana,” I heard Oropher say as he embraced Mîrwen. Beside him was Nimeithel—breathtaking as ever in her new role.

“How is my son,” Mîrwen asked.

“I could not be happier,” he said.

“What about you, Nimeithel,” I asked.

“I feel the same as my husband,” she answered.

“How is Eldôr,” I inquired. In the joy of the moment, I found myself thinking of Valdôr.

“As to be expected,” Oropher said solemnly. “He learned of his father’s passing before the rising of the Daystar. I cannot imagine what he or Lothluin must be feeling.”

We fell quiet for a time—our own vigil to our beloved friend. He died beneath starlight—his life given so others could see this day.

It was the first day and it was received with a bittersweet reflection of our existence in a world we were never meant to live. I thought of the stories of Eldamar. I wondered if it existed—did this light steal from it eternal life? Every one of us remained in the light of day until it made its descent beneath the horizon. It was then the familiarity of our first life returned as the stars began to peek out of the coming of night. The moon began another journey across the sky as we made our way into the palace.

A grand banquet was held in celebration of the coming of time. Now we would know the journey of our lives by the passing of day into night.

It was not long before we became accustomed to the day. The warmth of the Daystar we now called ’the Sun’ was a welcoming comfort from the coolness of the night. We learned to tell time with the passing of days. With the Sun and the Moon came seasons and weather.

One day, I was outside walking with Oropher—speaking of things in the early afternoon.

“Have you given any thought to starting a family,” I asked.

“I have,” he said smiling. “But I am hesitant of it.”

“May I ask why?”

“If you admit that Nana put you up to asking such a question.”

I laughed.

“Do you think I would have acted on my own volition?”

“No,” he answered.

“Then tell me, what keeps you from starting a family?”

Oropher sighed. I could see something weighed heavily on his mind.

“I had a vision,” he began. “I saw many things I do not comprehend.”

“What things,” I asked. I wondered if he had inherited his mother’s gift of foresight.

“I saw war,” he began. “Far worse than we have ever seen. There was death everywhere with the coming of another creature.”

“Creature,” I asked. I thought of the Orcs that I fought Ossiriand. “Such as the evil horde that came out of the North?”

“They looked like us but they did not live as long. Then I saw a wood far from here in the East. It was cursed.”

“A cursed wood,” I asked perplexed. “These visions are frightening but why would that keep you from starting a family?”

“That is what Nimeithel asked,” Oropher said.

“And what was your answer?”

Oropher looked at me—his face stoic.

“I told her I was told to wait.”

“Told by whom,” I asked.

“That is what I do not know,” he started. “All I know is they were adamant about and unwavering in their request.”

“It was just a vision, Oropher,” I said. “Do not let it determine how you will live your life.”

“Who is Taurëa,” he asked.

I stopped abruptly as a child rant through me. I had not heard her name for so long.

“Where did you hear her name,” I asked.

“In my visions,” he said. “Who was she? Did you not know of her?”

“I knew here,” I said. “She was the mother of Denethor.”

Oropher’s face lit up with curiosity.

“She was close to Grandmother, was she not?”

“Yes, she was,” I said. “What did she say to you?”

“She said only that great things will come of me. Then she walked into the wood.”

“The cursed wood,” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “You know of what I speak?”

I nodded. I did not wish to tell him no more. I could see he wanted to know more but my rescue came in the form of Amdir and Eldôr.

“We were looking everywhere for you,” Amdir said as they approached.

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

“We have guests in the court,” Eldôr said. “They have come a great distance.”

“From where have they come,” Oropher asked.

“From Eldamar,” Amdir said.

We stood there in shock for a time. We followed them back to Menegroth to greet the Eldar that had seen the home we never knew.

Two for one--providing @staff doesn't flag the set of the Peter Jackson film ”The Hobbit”--again. After the first Moonrise, the rising of the Daystar (Sun). Enter time and climate and weather. One day, Orothôn is walking with his son, Oropher when he brings up visions of a cursed wood and decides he must wait for a time before he can start a family. Soon, they learn some elves have arrived from Eldamar to King Thingol’s court.

Chapter V: The Coming of Time (Pt. I)

We made our way through narrow corridors to rooms filled with armor, shields, spears, and bows that King Thingol had stockpiled over many years for the occasion of war. The only sounds were the clashing of metal blended with the murmurs of armor-bearers hard at work. When they were finished, we took our weapons and began our return to the surface—our armor dragging against stone walls with an eerie lullaby.

We assembled in the empty hall that before had held such promise. I thought of Oropher. I wanted to look for him but my new wardrobe made it difficult. My view remained on the empty throne. Before long, King Thingol and Elmo appeared dressed similarly to us.

“You will follow us into Ossiriand,” King Thingol said flatly; his expression stoic. “I have it on good authority that our enemy looks to start with the least protected to force out the most in the attempt to destroy us all. This is no ordinary adversary we fight. This is an evil from whence time began. Its desire to extinguish life is only matched by its desire to rule over it. It will fight to the death and so must we. The future of this world depends on it.”

King Thingol and Elmo stepped down from their thrones and became one of us. When I was able to turn my head, I could see Galathil to my left.

“We will follow Father,” he whispered. “Galadhon will accompany our uncle.”

“Where are our sons,” I asked.

“They are to remain behind,” he answered. “To protect the borders.”

I could feel relief fall upon me. It was like a cool breeze flowing through my suit. If I did not return, at least my son had a chance to live as he would remain protected by the Girdle of Melian with his mother.

As we followed the king and his brother out of Menegroth, the faces of our families looked on from behind. I dared not look for Mîrwen. I wished the last I saw her would be her smile as our son married his beloved.

With Menegroth growing smaller in the distance, the familiar path we marched brought back the time we first entered Doriath after years the wilderness. Still, beneath the girdle, things were at peace—the world beyond had yet to bear witness to the peace we had known. It was changed and we had not for we chose to live our lives in relative secrecy. The evil around us seemed like myth yet we were told of its reality. We hoped it was legend—something that had passed away never to return. Now we were about to fact this nemesis we knew very little about.

We continued our journey to the borders. When we came to it, we stopped.

“Once we cross this boundary,” King Thingol began. “Only the stars hold our fate in their hands.”

Not a sound was heard—not a breath was taken. I felt the earth move beneath my feet only to realize I was walking with other elves into another land. Unremarkable was the world I once left behind yet the air was different. There was a distant stench I was not familiar with. Further away, we heard a rumbling. I noticed we were marching in the direction of both. The closer we came, the greater the sound and the stronger the smell.

With little warning, we came upon creatures so hideous and malodorous, I nearly fainted. Armor-clad with features that could only be called scaly but oleaginous. Their numbers seemed infinite in the light of the stars.

“Fire,” I heard Elmo say. Arrows flew past my head and pierced the flesh of a few of these monsters. It only served to anger them more. They broke ranks and came at us with such fury, I barely had time to draw my sword. I felled one—then another and another and another. Their evil was palpable and their numbers never-ending. I felt I was fighting for every year of my life. Out of exhaustion or perhaps a wound, I fell down amid the corpses of elves.

“Orothôn,” I heard a voice say. I thought I was in a dream. “Orothôn, are you with us?”

I opened my eyes. I was lying on top of a dead elf. His eyes stared into mine in anguish. I quickly jumped up in horror. I looked to see Galathil standing beside me.

“Are you alright,” he asked.

“Yes, I am,” I answered. I looked around to see elves and dwarves lying motionless. The carnage seemed to go the length of the Ered Luin.

“Where is Galadhon,” I asked. “Where is Elmo? Where is King Thingol?”

“Calm down,” Galathil said. “They live. I am afraid I cannot say the same for Denethor.”

I looked around trying to find his face among many. There were so many faces—each one staring into the void of death. Suddenly I remembered my friends.

“Where is Valdôr,” I asked. “Was he not with us?”

“He is gone, Orothôn,” another voice said. It was Êlengolas. “He fell not long after Denethor.”

I could not help but cry. I was overcome with grief. My visions had come to bear the bitter fruit of death I longed feared. Êlengolas and Galathil helped me navigate through the bodies and off the field of battle. In my grief, I hardly noticed Ónarr speaking with King Thingol nearby. I had again realized his people were among the dead and my grief worsened. I longed to be with Mîrwen and Oropher. I wondered if there was any home left to return to. Just as I began to drown myself in my thoughts, an elf approached me.

“You must stay strong, Orothôn,” he said. “Or else you will perish from your grief.”

I looked up to see Iarûr.

“You are here,” I said.

“I am,” he answered. “Not all is lost. For even in darkness light must shine. Rest, my friend. For soon we will return home.”

I smiled weakly as I leaned against the trunk of a tree and felt myself drift into a deep rest. I opened my eyes to the sound of metal against metal. Startled, I looked up to see soldiers picking up weapons from the ground.

“Did I startle you,” a young elf asked me.

“Yes, but I am fine,” I answered. “Carry on.”

He nodded and went on his way. When I rose to my feet, I saw that the creatures seem to retreat the field.

“They are orcs,” Êlengolas said as he approached from behind. “That is what Iarûr calls them.

“Where are they going,” I asked.

“I do not know nor do I care,” he said angrily. “They killed many of us. They left many a widow to grieve to make orphans. I suspect we have not seen the last of them.”

“Are we to leave for Doriath,” I asked.

“Yes, he said. “We were about to depart. I was sent to tell you. How is your arm?”

“My arm,” I asked. I look to see my arm was wrapped tightly from my elbow to my shoulder. For the first time, I felt the pain. “I was wounded by an orc?”

Êlengolas looked at me confused as he shook his head.

“Come on,” he said.

We made our way toward King Thingol and Elmo eating along with Galathil and Galadhon. King Thingol nodded at me and we began our return to Doriath.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 4-7-2019

The War of the Great Jewels 💎 has begun with the first battle of Beleriand. Orothôn fights orcs for the first time. He loses two friends—Valdôr and Denethor of Ossiriand.

Chapter IV: Darkness and Light (Pt. III)

I walked into my chambers to find Mîrwen with Valdúmîr and Lothluin chatting among themselves on the stone-carved benches.

“Orothôn,” Mîrwen said excitedly. “Have you heard? Eldôr has asked Valdúril for her hand.”

“That is wonderful news,” I said. “And Êlengolas has given his blessing?”

“You know Êlengolas,” Valdúmîr began. “He cannot help himself. He frightened the poor lad nearly to death.”

“My son wondered if he was worthy of his daughter,” Lothluin said.

“Well, then,” I started. “I know what to expect.”

“What are you saying,” Mîrwen asked, her eyes growing larger in anticipation.

“Your son wishes to marry Nimeithel.”

They stared at me—their mouths agape, frozen in the moment as figures of stone.

“I thought you would be delighted, Mîrwen,” I said, perplexed.

“I am,” she said glancing at Valdúmîr. “We are.”

“Êlengolas is quite fond of Oropher,” Lothluin said smiling. “He speaks highly of him in court quite often.”

“He does,” I asked curiously.

“Valdôr says as much to me,” she said.

“Will you give your blessing, Mîrwen,” I asked.

“You know I will.”

“What of you, Valdúmîr,” I asked.

She rose from her seat and stood before me.

“You will have our blessing,” she began reverently. “Mine and my husband’s.”

Without another word, she left our chambers in a graceful trance. I was bewildered by her actions. Quickly, Lothluin rose.

“I must attend to my duties,” she said. “I will see you again.”

Once she was gone, I looked at Mîrwen.

“Valdúmîr has always been fond of our son, Orothôn,” she said. “Nimeithel is a perfect match for Oropher. Mother has told me King Thingol and Queen Melian will give their blessing as well.”

I had almost forgotten my son was born a prince in the household of the King’s brother.

“Of course,” I said sitting beside Mîrwen. Of course Êlengolas and Valdúmîr will give their blessing. Their eldest daughter is in love with a prince.”

“You think so little of your friend to suggest his motives are not honorable?”

“No,” I began. It is not Êlengolas I question. It is you.”

“I beg your pardon,” Mîrwen yelled. “You question me?”

“Have you told Oropher what he is?”

“I am quite sure he knows.”

“Are you,” I asked.

She thought for a moment then nodded.

“He does not know, does he?”

She shook her head. I leaned back against the wall, the sound reverberated in my ears. I knew Oropher to be wise—perhaps he had discovered his position in the court. I decided to say nothing for the time being.

Not long thereafter, as I was preparing for battle alongside Élengolas and Valdôr, I made my thoughts known.

“I understand you have given your blessing to Eldôr to wed Valdúril.”

Valdôr stopped advancing, allowing his sparring opponent to fall. Êlengolas continued on.

“I have,” he said. “What of your son? He has yet to come to me.”

“You have not frightened him as you have Eldôr,” Valdôr asked.

“I am waiting for my chance,” Êlengolas answered as he put down his opponent. “Unless Oropher is afraid. It is understandable.”

“I hear you speak quite highly of him in court in my absence.”

“I do,” Êlengolas said coming over to us. “Why would I not? He is quite the warrior.”

“He is the grandson of the King’s brother,” I said.

He gave me a menacing look.

“So he is,” he said. “That is not the reason I speak highly of him, Orothôn. His skills for battle are formidable. As your friend, I would be greatly disappointed if you thought his rank was the reason I would give my blessing for my daughter to marry your son.”

I began to regret my words—I could see Valdôr with his head looking at the ground.

“Forgive me,” I said softly. “I would never accuse you of dishonor.”

“You want to know if Oropher knows he wishes to wed a commoner?”

“Êlengolas,” I began.

He started laughing—much to my surprise. Valdôr lifted his head; his face relieved.

“I would never say an unkind word about Nimeithel,” I said, feeling foolish. “There are not to be said.”

Êlengolas put his arm around my shoulder as he tried to contain his laughter.

“Êlengolas, you are horrible,” Valdôr said.

“I could not be so horrible,” he answered. “I am allowing your son to marry Valdúril. Orothôn, rank or no, it would be an honor and a privilege to have your son marry my daughter.”

“I feel the same about Nimeithel,” I agreed. “They are a wonderful match.”

“So I have heard for centuries,” he quipped. “But my daughter knows her heart and I know my daughter. You have raised a noble son that will and protect her. That is all that matters to me.”

I embraced my friend. I felt all fear and doubt leave my body. When I released Êlengolas, he was smiling.

“Both of my daughters are happy and I am happy for them.”

As we were preparing to return to the palace, there came a rumbling beneath the earth stronger and louder than it had ever been.

“The time for battle grows ever closer,” Valdôr said.

We continued on our way. I could not help but look around at all the elves following us into Menegroth. I was searching for Oropher. My heart lept with joy when I saw him standing at the gates. He waved at me. When I reached him, he embraced me.

“She said ‘yes’, Ada,” he whispered.–TKWRT Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 3-9-2019

So, Orothôn realizes his son Oropher’s joy of love and marriage maybe thwarted by position and rank as well as a war of epic proportions. First, dealing with the future in-laws. 🧝🏻‍♀️💖🧝🏻‍♂️

Chapter II: A Son is Born (Part V)

As we lay in each other’s arms, I could not help but feel something stood watch over us. I slowly turned my head. 

“Ada,” Oropher said loudly enough to startle me.

“Whisper, Oropher,” I said.

“Ada,” he repeated softly.

“Yes,” I asked.

“What are you and Nana doing?”

“Resting,” I answered. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to stop resting,” he said smiling.

“Oropher, how long have you been waiting for me and Nana to stop resting?”

He paused to think as I began to worry.

“Not long,” he said. “Just now.”

I sighed deeply and reached for my robe nearby. As I rose from bed, I quickly replaced the linens with the robe. I looked to see Mîrwen quietly resting motionless. I picked up Oropher.

“What are we to do,” I asked him.

“I am hungry,” he said.

“So am I,” I answered placing him on a table as I reached for my clothes. Once I was dressed, I noticed my son was still in his nightclothes I looked around when Mîrween appeared holding a neatly folded shirt and trousers.

“Looking for these,” she asked. 

I said nothing as she began to dress Oropher. Not long, Amareth entered and bowed.

“Go with Amareth,” she instructed Oropher.

Obediently, he jumped down from his perch and left with our lady.

“Mother said I required ladies to attend to our household,” she began as she embraced me. “Amareth was appointed to the task of caring for Oropher.”

“All well and good,” I began. “Why would you require ladies?”

Mîrwen’s cheery expression melted away as her gaze fell to the ground.

“What are you keeping from me,” I demanded.

“We are expected to dine with Father and Mother,” she said.

She looked toward the door. “Enter.”

Four elves entered—two maids and two men. In a whirlwind they separated us and went to work dressing us. When they were finished, they bowed and left swiftly. Without noticing what I was wearing, I became spellbound by Mîrwen’s beauty. She wore a long white dress with silver detail that seemed liked the start above us. Upon her head was a circlet of silver. It wast then I realized my attire resembled hers and I, too, wore a circlet.

“Shall we leave,” I asked.

She nodded and we walked into our world. No sooner had we left our doorframe did elves appear on either side of us begin bowing. They had created a long path by which to follow. As we came closer to its end, I noticed Elmo and Orowen overlooking their court. Beside them stood Galadhon and Galathil with their spouses. Dressed in white and adorned with silver, they proudly awaited us to arrive. At the very end stood Iarûr, Valdôr, Êlengolas and Finëar and their spouses. We stopped before Elmo and Orowen and we bowed reverently.

“Come, let us dine,” Elmo said smiling.

We followed them to an elaborate dining hall within an enormous thicket. Lanterns from branches shone as stars come to earth. Once seated, elves brought to us fantastic dishes I had never tasted until that moment. There was much merriment for a time when the atmosphere was interrupted by a single voice.

“Where is Elwë?”

It was Mîrwen. All fell silent.

“Pardon,” Elmo asked.

“Where is your brother, my uncle? I know he remains in this world.”

Orowen looked at Elmo—her stare felt around the table.

“It is true, Mîrwen,” Elmo began. “He remains here but for good reason.”

“What good reason could there be,” Orowen asked angrily.

“Father, “ Galadhon said. “We are not to leave this world?”

Elmo stood up and looked around at us. I saw sadness in his eyes.

“He is my brother,” he said softly. With those words, he left us. Orowen quickly went after him as Galadhon whispered to me from across the table.

“Celebriel is with child again. I had hoped one of my children would come int the other world, but now it is not to be.”

Celebriel took his hand. I rose from the table and made my way into the eternal twilight I had awakened. It was still—no breeze blew. I heard voices near the home of Elmo and Orowen. When I saw them, I hid behind a tree.

“You could not tell your wife of your plans,” Orowen asked.

“I had to know the truth,” he said, his voice distraught. “I needed to know where he was so that I might convince him to leave with us.”

“He will not leave this world, Elmo,” she said. “This you know too well.”

“How would I know,” he asked “I do not have your gift of foresight, Orowen.”

“Nor do you have the gift of hindsight! You will condemn generations of the Eldalië over one lost soul that you know will never join the other that he has forsaken.”

“How would you know what is in his heart,” Elmo growled.

“What is in his heart is not you or Olwë,” she answered. “We both know he remains for love but glory as well. That will bring a darkness that will plague this world. If you wish to brave such folly, you will do it alone!”

“Please, Orowen,” he begged. “I cannot bear the thought of eternity without you.”

She paused a moment—she sensed my presence but said nothing of it.

“I will remain as long as you wish,” she said. “For as long as it takes to convince Elwë to leave this world.”

“Should I fail,” Elmo began. “Then I will leave this place with you and our family. You have my word.”

Orowen nodded as Elmo kissed her hand and made his way toward the banquet.

“Come to me, Orothôn,” she said.

I slowly came from behind the tree and approached her.

“Forgive me,” I whispered.

“What have you done to ask for forgiveness?”

“I do not know,” I said meekly. 

“You are the bearer of kings, Orothôn,” she said to me. “Perhaps there is hope for this world even as I shall not see it. For this, I am glad.”

She kissed my cheek and smiled. I bowed to her and she turned from me and entered her home. I felt light-headed and heavy-hearted. What I had heard left me with dreams I could not find hope to have.

I made my way toward home alone—the path I once took was empty and dark save dim lanterns from elven homes. I stopped when I noticed Oropher at play with two little elven boys. Eldôr I recognized but the other was new to me. They seem mesmerized with the nature of darkness and its wonders that years had taken for granted. I stood watching them for awhile—their innocence replacing my fears.

“Thinking,” a voice said to me. It was Galathil. “Mîrwen said I would find you wandering in thought.”

“I have found myself doing that more than usual.”

“So have I,” he answered. “Often after my son had found his sleep and all is quiet. That is him with Oropher and Eldôr.”

“What is his name,” I asked.

“Amdir,” he said proudly. “I am afraid he is rather quiet for his youth and his manor far older. Nothing like me or my brother.”

“He seems to be doing quite well with Oropher.”

We watched as they laughed and romped as if in another world all their own. I wondered what their lives would be growing up in this world with lore of another told to them as myth. I found a peace in the darkness for a moment. It was safe for now.–TKWR Trilogy Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen by Jaynaé Marie Miller 7-14-2018

Oropher does something adorable; Orothôn is introduced to the life of a royal and Mîrwen interrupts dinner forcing her father Elmo to tell his family why they haven’t reached Eldamar. Galadhon tells Orothôn about expecting a third chil and he runs off only to overhear the real reason why Elmo refuses to leave Middle-Earth. It end with wondering what is yet to come. The introduction of Amdir, future king of Lórien and father of the famous Amroth of Amroth and Nimrodel poem (he is the son of Galathil, son of Elmo). 🌳