Jaynaé Marie

Chapter XXIX: (EXT) The Departure to Mithlond

“The afternoon before I was to leave, I found Thûlë in the gardens with Eärluin and Auríel showing them things sleight of hand. They were so taken by the magic neither of them noticed I was there.

“Thûlë,” I said. “Might I have a moment of your time?”

“Yes, of course,” he said. “Stay right there, I will return.”

The girls clapped and spoke among themselves as Thûlë walked with me a short distance.

“What is it, Thranduil,” he asked.

“We are leaving at the fall of twilight tomorrow,” I began.

“You have decided to make the journey,” he said smiling.

“Yes,” I stammered. “Is it far?”

“Mithlond,” he asked. “Well, it will take some time to get there.”

“No, I meant, Aman.”

His eyes seemed to dance at the sound of that and he smiled.

“I cannot say,” he began. “For the journey is different for everyone. Like everything in this world, that world is very much the same.”

“It is the same,” I pondered. “How so?”

“It exists.”

I could tell by his face that I was as dumbfounded as I thought.

“Thranduil,” he began gingerly. “For as long as I have lived and for all that I have seen the only thing I have seen once was what I have always seen. Every day of your life you saw the same thing without realizing that each day everything changed. Nothing in this world or the next remains the same. Forever can last a moment and a moment forever. Immortality is the art of living as long as one can to do what one will in a world that changes right before our eyes. We do not see it change because we are living.”

With that, he left me thinking about what he said as he returned to perform for Eärluin and Auríel. I made my way back into the palace in a fog of comprehension. I thought all day and into the night—I barely ate a thing at dinner and sound did not seem to permeate my thoughts. 

Finally, when all had fallen silent, I realized I was alone at the table of the dining hall. I made my way to my chambers. Êlúriel was in her night gown standing at my mirror combing her hair.

“Thranduil, are you ill,” she asked. “You have been acting strangely all day.”

“I was just thinking,” I said.

“About what,” she asked putting her comb away. “Have you changed your mind about leaving?”

“No,” I said, pulling her close to me. “I do not want to live anywhere you are not. Not in life or in death.”

“What has changed you this night,” she asked smiling.

“Nothing has changed,” I said, kissing her lips. “But nothing is the same except my love for you.”

She took my hand and led me to our bed where we spent our last night together for what would be one moment in forever I would never forget.

As night began to fall the following evening, I mounted my horse and paused for a moment. Êlúriel sat patiently upon her horse quietly as did the rest of our family. We were leaving this world never to return. Even as there had been pain, there were countless joys.

“Shall we begin,” Thûlë asked.

I nodded and for the last time, I motioned to lead my kingdom to Mithlond. The night started to unveil the stars that shone down from cloudless skies. The journey that have began our ancestors would end with us. I had only learned that we were the last of our kin to depart for Aman.

As we rode throughout the night, I could not help but to notice the world I was born into in a light far different that I could remember. The Misty Mountains seemed far greater beneath the stars as their peaks seemed to touch the heavens above them.

Through forests and across hills through valleys, our journey seemed to leave the younger of our elves spellbound. I had not known the world beyond the Rhovanion until I left for war. To see as I left it seemed disappointing as it was as beautiful as Eryn Lasgalen.

On the last night before we were to reach Mithlond, several elves took our horses to set them free. We would walk the rest of the way into the port. It took some time to console Tárimë as her horse was a gift from me.

I walked a distance from camp watching the sun slowly disappear beneath the horizon. I wondered how life would be in Aman. I thought of how much time had passed since I had seen my mother.

“Forever has never been so close as it is now,” Elranduil said as he approached. “Just over that horizon is where it lies.”

“Are you afraid,” I asked. “To go beyond this world we have only heard about in elven lore. How do we know there is anything out there waiting for us? What if nothing is there and we came so far for nought?”

“Why would you think such a thing,” he asked. “Of course there is something out there beyond the sea. Thûlë came from there, remember. You think we came all this way to fall off the edge of the Earth?”

“Of course not, Elranduil,” I said nervously. “What if what is out there is not the paradise we were told it was?”

“Even now, you are still awaiting something that will never be or never was as father would say.”

“Why are you so sure of what is there,” I asked.

“Why are you so afraid of what is there,” he asked.

I thought about his words for a moment. What was I afraid of? The unknown, perhaps. Fear of looking back and seeing my existence turned to fable told by humans to put their children to sleep. 

What would become of the kingdom we left behind as the years would turn it to nothing more than relics of a world long since past. Worse, it could be lost as it faded into nature and swallowed by the earth to never be discovered.

“There will be nothing of us left, Elranduil,” I said. “Nothing we have done through the centuries will exist no more. We will be forgotten as if we never lived.”

“Not a creature in this world that ever lived was left forgotten,” he said. “They become part of an endless tale that is told and retold from one generation to the next. For each generation there is added shadings and what have you, but underneath the myth lies a grain of truth. That is what will be remembered.”

I must have had a look of wonderment because Elranduil had a great smile on his face.

“When did you become so wise?”

“I always have been wise,” he said. “You never listen to me.”

“For good reason quite often,” I answered.

“Thranduil, whatever lies beyond the horizon you will not be going there alone,” he said. “All of us will see what you will see. For better or worse, we will be together.”

I knew he was right. I always wondered about the unknown whether in fear or curiosity. Now, I would face it myself.

When dawn came, everyone followed Thûlë the rest of the way to Mithlond. The closer we came, the more anxious I became. Once we entered the city, the sun had not yet started its descent. There was one grand ship—large enough for everyone. Tarthôn smiled when he saw it.

“I am looking forward to going home,” he said.

I said nothing as elves began to board. I began to look around Mithlond. The grand halls were empty—not a soul was left. We were truly the last to leave this world.

“You are looking for me, are you not,” a voice asked. I turned to see Êlenuil. “I was,” I said. “You have kept your word.”

“I have but I also wanted to see if you would come with us,” he said.

“You thought I would stay behind,” I asked.

“Most everyone thought as much,” he said. “But I see Êlúriel has convinced you to come.” 

“Time convinced me,” I began. “I have nothing but time and those I love to spend it with. Eryn Galen is in my heart where it will never leave. I have forever to remember all that it was to me.”

“So it is the same with Súlelenth,” he said. “She is where she always has been since the day we met.”

“Your children are on board,” I said. “As well as the rest of your family. Shall we go?”

Êlenuil nodded and we walked on board together. Eluriel stood looking at me. She kissed me.

“Let us go,” she said.

I smiled and helped her on to the ship and stepped in after. When the bridge was raised and the sails unfurled in the gentle breeze, the ship slowly began it’s journey toward the setting sun into eternity.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-22-17

**END OF BOOK II**

All things come to and end...except this story, but the secret chapter is in Book III: The Last Tale of Legolas Lasgalen. This is just the end of Book II: The Saga of Thranduil—Extended Version. NOW: There is a bigger surprise coming after the book is posted. Stay tuned. All you need to know is, the greatest love of Thranduil lives on...💖

Chapter XXVIII (EXT): The Arrival of Thûlë

“That evening, there was a grand feast in the dining hall to celebrate Legolas’ safe return home. It had been a long time since my household felt whole again as the servants served us the freshest delights prepared for this occasion. Nenduîl and Aranduil sat as close to Legolas and Gimli as they could; eagerly asking them about their adventures. Eärluin and Auríel sat near their brothers whispering to one another and giggling at their excitement. Eluriel spent her time speaking with Isilriel, Nenloth, Ardúin and Ëariâth. The hall was filled with life as it was when I was young and my father was king. Though I sat in his place, I felt as I had before that the wars took so much from our kingdom.

“Thinking again,” Nimlos said leaning across Aramír. “You should be listening to Legolas. He’s had quite the adventure.”

“I will speak with him later,” I said. “As it is, he has the ear of Nenduîl and Aranduil.”

“They have been following him all day,” Aramír said. “He rather enjoys having an audience.”

“Just like his mother,” Nimlos said. “I remember she would tell me and Nenloth about adventures when we were young, though hers came from her imagination as though they were real.”

I laughed softly as I watched Êlúriel. Seemed not long ago she was telling me of her childhood or spinning a tale about our life together. As I watched Legolas and Gimli from a distance, their engagement with the children of the court brought memories of Êlúriel in the garden with children after she came into Eryn Galen. It was a sad but pleasant thought.

“If you will pardon me,” I said, rising. 

The room fell quiet and the court stood to bow to me. Êlúriel looked concern as I left the dining hall and made my way to the garden. It was a calm evening—nothing but the song of the night sung by the nocturnal chants of the woodlands creatures large and small.

Light of dim lanterns cast shadows down the winding paths as I sat amidst them on a bench deep in thought. It had been so long since I had been accustomed to a peaceful night I wondered what it was like in other places across the world.

“Ada,” a voice said. “Is something the matter?”

It was Legolas. I shook my head.

“Nothing,” I said. “Just found myself wanting to think. Why are you here?”

“For the same reason,” he said sitting beside me. “So much has come about, there has hardly been time to own’s self. Now that I am home for a time, I want to remember how it was before I leave again.”

“You are leaving,” I asked. “You have just arrived.”

“Not quite yet, Ada,” he said smiling. “You will have me for a time. Though I hardly think you would notice with Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin at your side.”

“They are growing up,” I said. “Soon they will not need me as they once did.”

“That is not true,” he said. “They will always need you. I still need you. Time has changed many things, but the heart is not one of them.”

“I suppose you will accompany Gimli to Erebor to see his father,” I began. “I know Glóin will want to see his son as much as I wanted to see mine.”

“Of course,” he answered. “Tarthôn wishes to join me, if he may.”

I nodded. It was good to see my sons doing things together once more.

“Gimli was given sovereign over Aglarond and wishes to lead his people there to settle. I wish to see the world.”

“You were always the wandering kind,” I said. “You know I will not stand in your way. It is your fate and yours alone. Mine is here with my people. It always has been and always will be.”

“For now, just be my father,” he said.

“I will forever be your father no matter where you are,” I said. “I am glad for that.”

Legolas and Gimli remained with us for a week before they set out for Erebor with Tarthôn. There plan was to stay the same amount of time there before leading dwarves through the Rhovanion and on to Aglarond. It seemed a fleeting moment I had my son again, but I had no fear for him now. The world was born anew and many would go seeking what there was to see of it.

I thought many days on what Galadriel said to me. I knew what she what she meant. I had to callings now—both struggling within for dominance. Should I stay in my kingdom and conquer time or make the journey my ancestors never completed into the west. My time in this world was coming to an end but to which end would it come?

I felt there was time enough to think on this; I felt a much better use of my days was to spent with Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin. I had given them each a horse of their own—not realizing they had grown near the height of Legolas at that age. They were no longer children.

One day, I had decided to go riding with them along with Aranduil and Auríel. Nearly my height now, the boys had begun to look much like true Sindarinwa princes. We had traveled quite a distance—stopping only for Tárimë to pick flowers for her chambers.

When we returned to the stables, we dismounted and walked toward the palace.

“Ada,” Tárimë began. “What do you think of Fëandil?”

“You mean the son of Arawë,” I asked attempting to remember him. “Why do you ask?”

“She has eyes for him,” Nenduîl said teasing his sister. “It is no secret to anyone.”

“Especially to Grandfather,” Aranduil added. “I am surprised he has not said anything to you.”

“Tarthôn has been away often, Aranduil,” I answered. “He only returned from Gondor recently. Is it true, Tárimë? Are you fond of this young elf.”

“No, Ada” she lied. “That is preposterous, Ada. He is as troublesome as these two.”

“I think it is a good match for my sister,” Eärluin said.

“Do not listen to my brother, Tárimë,” Auríel said. “He has eyes for Êldúlin.”

“I do not not, Auríel,” Aranduil said, his face flushed as Eärluin giggled.

“I know you better, Tárimë,” I said. “You have never been one to hide your emotions from anyone.”

“His face does not displease me,” she said giving her brother a stern glare. “I suppose he is adequate.”

“Adequate,” I said. “If you think he is adequate, then I suppose I should think so as well. Whenever you find him more than adequate, tell me so I may speak with him.”

Aranduil and Nenduîl could not help themselves but to laugh all the way to the front gates when we were met by Ëarmîr.

“Go your way,” I said to them. “Ëarmîr wishes word with me.”

They continued on their way as I approached Ëarmîr.

“Someone wishes an audience with Your Majesties,” he said to me. “Queen Êlúriel has met with him.”

“Why has Fëaluin sent you to tell me,” I asked.

“I come to you on my own,” he said. “Fëaluin awaits in council.”

We entered the palace and made our way to the throne room. I noticed a tall creature standing quietly in the center of the room with Êlúriel. I noticed he wore the long robe of a wizard—of the Istari—the color of grey. He had long hair the color of silver with withering skin the color of a winter sky. He approached me, his eyes a deep hue of sky at the end of day.

“Do I know you,” I asked. “You remind me of someone.”

“Mithrandir, perhaps,” he said. “He is no longer the Grey Wanderer as he is known as The White Rider or Gandalf the White if you wish.”

“Who are you,” I asked.

“Thûlë,” he answered, “And I have come quite a long way to see you,” he said. “From Mithlond.”

“May I ask why you have come?”

“As I have said,” he answered with a smile. “I have come to see you.”

“Why have you come to see me,” I asked.

“It was time,” he answered.

“It is time, Thranduil,” Êlúriel said softly, looking down.

I looked around the court—it had grown shallow and empty. It had become a shell of its former self. I looked to Ëarmîr who stood quietly next to Fëaluin.

“I know,” I said. “I know why you are here.”

“Oh, yes, Thranduil,” he began smiling. “I have heard much about you. You are beyond lore. You are of the ages that this world has seen over centuries. I arrived with Mithrandir in the Second Age and remained in the Havens and watched him sail into the west. He said I should await you there, but I knew I would remain there for another age should I do such a thing, so I came to you.”

“You saw my son, then,” I said. “Legolas?”

“Indeed. He left with a certain dwarf I believe. Gimli, son of Glóin.”

“Did he say anything,” I asked. I was hoping he did not say something that would touch my heart or break it for the mention of his name brought to me every moment I had with him since the day he was born.

“Yes, Thranduil,” he said smiling. “Peda aranon od Eryn Lasgalen, adar nîn, Thranduil Tárisil Oropherion, ernil od Eryn Lasgalen tolant na vedui sí Mithlond.”

I knew there were tears in my eyes but I did not care. My son was safe and I missed him greatly.

“I am afraid I have no words,” I said. “I miss my son.”

“He misses his father,” he said.

“How long will you be with us,” I asked quietly.

“Until it is time for me to depart, which will be in five days. I hope that I will not leave this place alone.”

I motioned to Fëaluin.

“Please escort Thûlë to where he may rest his head,” I said.

Fëaluin led him away. Before I could say a word to Ëarmîr, I turned to see Nenduîl.

“Ada,” he said smiling. “Are we leaving Eryn Lasgalen?”  

I looked to see Tárimë as well. Nenduîl looked much like me as Tárimë looked much like Êlúriel. I did not know the answer to his question. I was numbed at the thought of leaving.

“Something the matter,” Tárimë asked. “You are not yourself.”

“I am not myself, Tárimë,” I said. “Go to the gardens, I will come to you later. I must have a word with Ëarmîr.“

They left quickly, giddy with anticipation of seeing me again.

“Galathil left you here to make sure that I would leave for Mithlond.”

“Yes,” Ëarmîr said softly. “You would not leave otherwise.”

“How would anyone know what is in my heart or my mind,” I said as anger and sadness began to rise to the surface.

“Thranduil,” Êlúriel whispered.

“Thranduil,” Eldôr began. “Calm yourself.”

“I will not calm myself,” I said. “Do not presume you know me! Any one of you! It is my life and my choice! If I want to remain here in my kingdom.”

I stormed away toward the gardens hoping Nenduîl and Tárimë would bring me peace as they often would. I felt a light breeze carrying the scent of Êlúriel. I felt my heart fill with joy for the first time since Legolas had returned to me after the war. I stopped at the railing and began to remember my youth. My friends.

“There is nothing here for us anymore,” Êlúriel said from behind. “Even our son has sailed on. Of all the things to fear, why would this be one of them?”

I saw Eldôr approaching us from the court calmly.

“I will speak with him, Êlúriel,” I heard him say. 

She nodded and went into the palace. In that moment, I longed to follow her, but I could not find the strength.

“They have grown into beautiful elves,” Eldôr mused. “I know what you are thinking, Thranduil. I have known you since you came into this world.”

“I know, Uncle,” I said. “Perhaps that was the reason for your return.“

“What will you have us to do,” he asked quietly.

I never let the twins out of my sight. I seemed hypnotized by their frolicking.

“Send forth the rest of our people into the Havens and sail home,” I said. “The time as come. Êlúriel, Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin will sail. I will sail with you.”

We said nothing more as we watched the last of the elven children to grow up in Endor. and led them away to the old pool where I once played in my childhood. I knew I would have to tell Nenduîl and Tárimë that we were going home.

That evening, I requested Ëarmîr to send the children to my chambers. Eldôr had the court ready themselves to leave Eryn Lasgalen forever. With hurried excitement, what was left of the elves of the last elven kingdom prepared for the journey home.

When the familiar knock came to the door, I took a deep breath.

“Enter,” I said.

Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin came in slowly—uncertain what was about to happen.

“Please, have a seat,” I said. They sat on the edge of my bed in unison; their eyes focused on me.

“Are we leaving Eryn Lasgalen, Ada,” Tárimë asked.

“Yes,” I said. “We are leaving and we will never return.”

“Never,” Nenduîl asked. “Why can we not return home?”

“We are going to a new home,” I said. “Far away from this world. It is a place of eternal youth and beauty where we will live forever.”

“We do that here,” Eärluin said. “Why can we not do that here?”

“Because we are elves,” I said. “Unlike any other creatures we are. Our time here must end so the rest of this world may continue. I know you will miss Eryn Lasgalen. I will miss it as well because like you it is the only home I have ever known but where we go will be far more beautiful.”

“Where you go, we will go, Ada,” Nenduîl said.

“It will fine,” Eärluin said.

“We love you, Ada,” Tárimë said.

“I love you, too,” I said.

I embraced them, my heart heavy with the thought of leaving but glad knowing I will be with them for all eternity. When I released them, they were smiling.

“Now, go prepare yourselves. We leave at week’s end.”

They nodded and left me alone. I looked around my chambers remembering every moment of my life that took place within its walls. Memories were the only thing I could take with me—they were all that I would need.

“Is that why you are afraid to leave,” Êlúriel said as she came into the room.

“What other reason is there,” I asked. “I was born here. We met here and married here. Our children were born here.”

She walked over to me and poked me in the chest.

“That is where home is,” she said. “If there were no walls, we would still have a home because home is where love is. You carry that everywhere.”

I smiled at her. I knew she was right. I nodded and embraced her. I began to feel better knowing she would be by my side when I had to leave everything I had ever known forever.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-22-17

Legolas leaves as quickly as he came and the youngest generation are growing up—Tárimë seems to have a crush and Eärluin is no longer teasing her. When a mysterious wizard arrives, it is to lead Thranduil home to Aman. He doesn’t want to leave—he was born here. The Woodland Realm is all he’s ever known. He reluctantly gives in to pressure and tells his young wards what happens at week’s end. Êlúriel reminds Thranduil where home truly is and he starts to feel better. The end is nigh; for The Saga of Thranduil.

Chapter XXVII (EXT): Mirkwood to Eryn Lasgalen/Legolas’ Return

“I emerged from my tent at dawn to the sound I had not heard for centuries it seemed—birds chirping melodiously. Nearby, there were woodland creatures roaming beneath the forest tress softly swaying in unison as a gentle breeze blew through their branches. The sky began to lighten as the sun rose; it was a vibrant blue I could almost touch.

Evil was gone. I could not help but remember the years that had come before—so many years of darkness intermingled with moments of joy swirling around times of anguish. I had come out of the shadows to see the dawn of the new age father had said I would.

“Thranduil, son of Oropher,” I heard a voice say beside me. It was Galathil.

“Galathil, son of Galadhon,” I answered. “So this is the day our fathers wished to see.”

“Yes,” he said. “And yet, it comes as every day before it—in a whisper too quiet for us to hear. Perhaps that is how time wishes it to be. To allow us to appreciate all that is given and all that is lost.”

“I have spent much of my life fighting time as much as evil,” I said. “I have never known what it would like not to fight something.”

“I am sure you will not miss it,” he said. “You will not forget it, but you will not miss it.”

“I know one day, I will forget,” Celeborn said as he walked toward us with Ëarmîr. “I look forward to that day with great expectation. For now, I look forward to our return to your palace, Thranduil. Galadriel is waiting.”

“I must apologize to you, Celeborn,” I said as I saw Eldôr approaching with Elranduil. “I did not prepare her for the horrors of my halls.”

“What horrors,” Celeborn asked concerned.

“Five little elven children, I am afraid,” Elranduil said smiling. “They are rather precocious. They seemed to have inherited such behavior from me, right dear cousin?”

I gave him weak smile as he laughed with the others.

“I am sure they cannot be anywhere near the trouble of Elladan and Elrohir,” Celeborn said laughing. “I am sure Galadriel is fine, though I cannot promise the same for the children.”

As we laughed together I noticed Êlenuil with his brother Elendôr. He had a grey horse by its reins that was saddled and prepared for a long journey.

“If you excuse me,” I said.

I walked toward them; my gait heavy as my heart. They bowed to me as I came before them.

“So you are leaving, Êlenuil,” I said. “So soon after battle?”

“I must,” he said quietly, looking at the ground. “It is for the best.”

“You do remember what I asked of you?”

“Yes, Thranduil,” he answered as he looked at me. “You have my word.”

“I will send your children to you when the time comes,” I said. “I trust you will be there to receive them.”

“I will wait for them,” he said. “You have my word.”

I felt sorry for Êlenuil for his pain was palpable. His sorrow reminded me of myself when I lost Êlúriel. I wondered if I had been too hard on him.

“Elendôr, go see to your father,” I said. “I would like a moment with your brother.”

“Yes, Thranduil,” he said bowing. We watched him walk away toward camp. I could see things were being prepared for the journey back to the palace.

“Have I been too harsh with you, Êlenuil,” I asked. “If I have, forgive me.”

“You have been nothing more than noble,” he said. “As expected a King.”

“You are my kin,” I said. “You are a prince of the realm. You returned to fight for your people. I do not know anything more noble than that.”

“Thank you,” he said smiling beneath his golden hair.

“I remember when I almost lost my wife,” I began, my mind reliving the moment again as it had for centuries. “I would be remiss if I did not tell you how it was for me.”

“There is no need for you to remember such pain,” he said.

“I have never forgotten,” I said. “I have lived every day with that pain. There is not a moment I do not think how I almost lost her. I cannot fathom what it must feel like to lose such a great love as you have. Forgive me.”

I could tell by Êlenuil’s expression that my face had fallen grave. I felt the tears falling down my cheek as they had the day I held Êlúriel’s body in my arms—thinking I had lost her.

“I do not deserve her,” I said. “She is too good for me, but she loves me as if I were. If she had died that day, I know she would not have wanted me to leave our children without a father nor a kingdom without a king. I know how you long for Súlelenth, Êlenuil.”

Êlenuil was looking at me, his face serene. He had a smile on his face—one I had not seen since his youth.

“I know,” he said. “That is why I left Nenduîl and Tárimë with you.”

“What are you saying,” I asked trying to compose myself rather poorly. “I do not understand.”

“When they were born, grandfather remarked how much they reminded him of you and the Queen,” he said. “Her mother would tell her stories when she was a child about your love. When she died, I could not look at my children not because I did not love them. It was not because I lost their mother, though I loved her with all my heart. I knew she was mortal and would have died as mortals will. I could not look at them because they were so close and reminded me of you and Queen Êlúriel.”

I had regain some composure as I found myself wanting to understand what Êlenuil was trying to say.

“I am afraid you have lost me,” I said.

“I know they bring you much joy,” he said nearly laughing. “No matter how hard you try to show otherwise. You are the worst liar in all of Arda, you realize.”

“I am not,” I said defiantly.

“They were born out of love aptly named for a love everlasting.”

I was at a loss for words or thoughts.

“And Eärluin,” I asked. “She should know who her father is.”

“She reminds me too much of Súlelenth,” he said. “They adore you both. “I could not bare to lose their love.”

“You are their father,” I said. “How could they not love you?”

“I know they love me,” he said. “I love them very much. But they are a comfort to you. As much a gift to you as they were to me. I think it was for you they were born. They know their purpose and I know mine,” Êlenuil said smiling. “I will keep my word to you.”

We looked at each other—seemingly knowing what the other felt. He embraced me and I could not help but return it.

“Thank you for the mithril,” he whispered, releasing me from his embrace. He mounted his horse and rode toward the west as he had done once before. I watched him until I could not see him.

“Thranduil,” I heard someone say. I looked to see Elranduil standing next to me. “Something the matter?”

“No,” I said. “I was just seeing Êlenuil on his way.”

“We await you to lead us home,” he said. “Unless there is a reason you wish us to remain here and watch you stare at trees.”

I grinned at him—nearly laughing at myself. I nodded and we headed toward camp. Seeing the elves of Mirkwood and Lothlórien together brought back memories of the last time we were together. This time, we were not riding off to war; we were riding home victorious.

I mounted my horse and looked around to see elven soldiers proudly awaiting my command.  At my side waited Celeborn smiling serenely.

“Shall we,” he asked.

I smiled in return, motioned to move forward. As our procession began it’s slow move home, I looked back at the smoldering ruins of what was once Dol Guldur. Though it would be a long time before it would once again resemble Amon Lanc, the darkness was gone from my kingdom forever.

For a time, we traveled in silence—each of us savoring the victory filled the air and fell over the whole of Arda. As we made our way closer to the palace, a faint sound of cheers was heard.

“Word still travels quickly among our people,” Celeborn remarked.

“It is just as well,” I said. “We return victorious as I told Galadriel we would.”

“Seems Galadriel is not the only one with the gift of foresight,” he said.

“Not so much foreseen as promised, Celeborn.”

As we came to the path leading to the bridge, my kingdom welcomed us with glorious fanfare. Under a shower of flower petals. I could see my court waiting for us joyfully on the bridge. Before them, Galadriel stood with Isilriel alongside Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin. As we stopped, I dismounted as they came running to me.

“Ada,” they squealed as I knelt down to embrace them.

“You are home,” Tárimë said.

“Yes, I am,” I answered, as I noticed they were dressed in their finest court attire. “And how did you manage to greet me dressed so elegantly?”

“Lady Galadriel,” Nenduîl said pouting. “She told us it would please you.”

“It is itchy, Ada,” Eärluin said, scratching her neck.

“I am well pleased,” I said as I saw Galadriel approaching as Celeborn and the rest of the princes began to great their loved ones. I stood up and bowed to her.

“You must be weary,” she said embracing Celeborn. “Let our warriors take their rest before we return home, if they may, Thranduil.”

“Of course,” I said. “Fëaluin, prepare the court for celebration if you will.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said smiling, his wife Linurial in his arms. “It would be my pleasure.”

As everyone made their way into the palace, I remained behind with Nenduîl and Tárimë.

“Tell me, children,” I began. “Did you mind yourselves while I was away?”

“I did,” Tárimë said. “I cannot say the same for my brother.”

“I was well-behaved,” Nenduîl said defensively. “Much more than my sister.”

“If I were to ask Galadriel, what would she say to me?”

There was a moment of silence and I could not help myself but to laugh.

“I was very good,” Eärluin said. “Nana said so.”

“Where is Nana,” I asked, worried.

“She is waiting for you inside,” Tárimë said. “She said she wanted to see you alone.”

Curious, I entered the palace behind them. I was happy to home and wanted to see Êlúriel.

Inside, the children went their way as I made my way into my study where waited the many faces of my lifetime. To thunderous applause I was received. I approached Celeborn as he stood beside Galathil, Eärmîr, Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin. We stood for a moment looking at one another as the praise subsided. It was then that we embraced one another. Cheers returned again—the sound rising louder than the falls behind us.

“Let no more time fall between us now that darkness has fallen from the rest of our days,” I said. “It is a day I never thought I would see but for my father I am his eyes from the grave. He would be proud.”

“Yes, he would, Thranduil,” Celeborn said. “Tonight we celebrate and tomorrow you will face the world as King of Eryn Lasgalen.”

“What,” I said taken aback. “What are you saying?”

Celeborn smiled as Galathil patted me on the shoulder.

“You were never one to take anything without bewilderment,” Galathil said. “Or so I have been told.”

“Yes, I am afraid my cousin is often taken aback,” I heard Elranduil say as he approached. “Good news or bad, it does take him a moment to find the words to say anything.”

“Well, then. He has the rest of the evening to find his words,” Celeborn said. “In the meantime, I believe your court is being prepared for celebration and I shall take my leave to do likewise.”

I never heard the study empty nor had I realized I had regained my kingdom. It was a moment I would never forget—after so long under the curse of Sauron, I had come full circle to see my kingdom through sorrow and pain to joy and peace.

For as long as there is a kingdom to rule, you will. My father’s words rang true—as I heard them spoken once more from my heart.

“Thranduil,” I heard my name called. I turned to see Nimlos.

“Yes,” I asked. “What is it?”

“Time to get ready for the celebration,” he said. “You are not going like that, are you?”

I looked down at myself. I was still in my armor—stained with dirt and the dried blood of orcs.

“I could use a change of wardrobe,” I answered. “And a bath.”

I went to my bath and noticed I was alone. I looked forward to having a moment to myself. After my armor was removed, my dressers left to prepare my wardrobe for the evening. Once in the bath, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and felt myself release all the tension of the day. Though exhausted, I wondered where Êlúriel was as I had yet to see her.

“You never cease to amaze me,” I heard a voice say to me.

“Elranduil,” I answered. “Who allowed you in here?”

“Amusing, Thranduil,” he answered. I opened one eye to see him sitting nearby in his robe and fresh from his bath. “I wanted to see to your well-being.”

“What do you want,” I asked.

“Not a thing,” he answered. “Though father wanted to know how you were. You seemed beyond his reach for a moment What is on your mind?”

“I am in need of rest is all,” I answered as I closed my eye. “Nothing more. Uncle mustn’t worry himself although I am quite sure it is you that would like to know more.”

“No,” he said. “Though your son wishes to speak with you before tonight’s celebration.”

I opened my eyes and sat up.

“Tarthôn,” I asked. “Is something the matter?”

“Not at all,” Elranduil answered. “He is quite well. There is no hurry. He is with Ëariâth just now. He has something he wishes to tell you. He refuses to tell anyone but you.”

“I have raised him well, then,” I said reclining once more. “He knows you can never keep a secret.”

“I can so,” he said rising. “I kept many of your secrets. Is it my fault Ardúin could get them from me? She can be quite persuasive.”

“She is not persuasive, Elranduil. You are afraid of her.”

“I am not,” he began as a servant entered and bowed.

“Yes,” I asked.

“I was sent by Her Highness, Princess Ardúin,” he said quietly. “She wishes for His Highness Prince Elranduil to join her immediately.”

“Tell her I shall be with her in a moment,” Elranduil said.

“Now, Elranduil,” a voice came from across the room. It was Ardúin. I could not help but laugh.

“If you will excuse me,” Elranduil said. “My wife requires my presence.”

He hurried away with the servant. I took another moment to enjoy my solitude—closing my eyes to rest.

“You kept your word,” a voice said.

It was Êlúriel. I opened my eyes just as she had slipped into the water and glided over to me and embracing me.

“So I have,” I said, holding her. We did not say another word as we found ourselves lost in a kiss and locked in an embrace for what seemed a magical eternity. When she was done with me, she stepped out of the bath, wrapped herself her robe and rang for the servants.

“Do not be late, Thranduil,” she said, smiling.

Soon the servants arrived. I stepped out of my bath and was dried and dressed in a robe and I made my way to my room. The guards opened my door and I entered. A moment later, my dressers entered and began to prepare me for the night. I was placed in the colors of spring—rich greens with silver embroidered leaves on my coat. A knock came to my door.

“Enter,” I said as one servant began combing my hair. It was Tarthôn with Aranduil close behind.

“How’s Nana,” he asked grinning.

“You have a shadow with you, son,” I said, smiling thinking about Êlúriel.

Tarthôn turned and picked up his grandson.

“Well what do you know,” he said. “How did you come upon me, Aranduil?”

“I followed you,” he said. “I wanted to come.”

“I think he wanted to see you as much as I did,” Tarthôn said. “You look fine this evening, Ada.”

“Am I to assume Êlúriel is waiting for us?”

“She does,” he answered.

“Elranduil said you wished to tell me something.”

“Yes,” he began. “There is word from Gondor.”

“Gondor,” I asked. “What of it?”

“Legolas has survived the war,” he said. “He is there with Aragorn. I was told of it before we left Dol Guldur. It would appear Legolas sent a messenger ahead of the news.”

I turned slowly toward Tarthôn—who was straightening Aranduil’s little buttons on his robe. When he looked up, his face was smiling as brightly as my own must have been.

“This is wonderful news,” I said. “Wonderful. I have both of my sons and I could not ask for more.”

“Me,” Aranduil said angrily. “I am here too.”

“Yes,” I said. “You are here as well, Aranduil. How could I have forgotten?”

In overwhelming joy, I embraced them both. I knew I would see my sons together again some day soon.

“Let us celebrate, Ada,” Tarthôn said as he put Aranduil down. “The kingdom awaits.”

“Very well,” I said.

We left my room and entered the hall. As we approached the court room, festive spring colors dressed everything from pillar to post. Green, indigo, red, yellow and white created an aura of the forest floor. Êlúriel stood at her throne, her gown the color of mine, her crown upon her head as a halo. My court once engaged fell quiet as I took my place beside her.

“Tonight we celebrate,” I began “For the darkness that fell upon our kingdom is no more. It is a new day not only for the elves, but for all that live in every corner of this world. Peace has finally returned to the Woodland Realm.”

A roar of cheers filled the room and resounding into every crevice of the halls with a sound that for the first time was greater than the force of the waterfalls’ ever flowing. I walked down from my throne and made my way to the room above the festivities. Upon reaching the window seat, I remembered the night of my wedding—sitting with Êlúriel in a quiet moment.

I continued further up the stairs to the room where I spoke with my father many times before he died in the War of the Last Alliance. I walked over to the window and looked out over Forest River quietly flowing into Long Lake. The trees were turning black with the setting of the sun but I could see the stars beginning to peek through the eastern sky one by one.

“Ada,” I heard a child say. It was Nenduîl. I turned to see him and Tárimë standing behind me. I motioned to them to come. I noticed for the first time how much they had grown as they approached me.

“It is a beautiful night,” Tárimë said looking over the balcony. “Can we go outside now?”

“In the morning,” I said. “After the ceremony.”

“What ceremony,” Nenduîl asked looking terrified. “Do I have to dress up again?”

“Nenduîl, you are a Prince of the realm. It is proper protocol.”

“I am not fond of proper protocol,” he said leaning against me. “It is very uncomfortable.”

“I am a Princess,” Tárimë said. “I like being a Princess.”

“That is because you are a girl,” her brother said sticking his tongue out.

“Children, behave yourselves,” I said trying not to laugh. I remembered how much I did not like proper palace protocol at their age. “It will not be too long and afterward you are free to play with the other children.

“Outside,” Nenduîl asked looking up at me—eyes wide with excitement.

“Yes, outside.”

“Will you come with us,” Tárimë asked.

“I have some things to do. I am the King you realize.”

The both stood beside one another giving me their best sad and down trodden look in a rather convincing attempt at forcing my hand.

“Very well, perhaps I will join you after I am done with my duties,” I said.

Smiling they embraced me and I in return.

“We love you, Ada,” they said.

“I love you both very much,” I said, thinking about the last time I saw their father at Dol Guldur. I wondered should I tell them about Êlenuil.

“Nenduîl. Tárimë,” I heard Elranduil say. “Ardúin is looking for you. I need a word with Thranduil.”

They ran off into the darkness that had begun to surround the forest. I leaned agains the balcony once more as Elranduil joined me.

“How is the celebration,” I asked. “Am I needed?”

“It is fine, Thranduil,” he said. “You are noticeably missing but you are the king. You do what you like.”

“True,” I answered. “Why are you here?”

“I am here because I can do what I like,” he said.

“We like far too many of the same things, cousin.”

“I am afraid that runs in the family,” he said. “It would seem so does wandering away to think about all that has come to pass.”

“We have seen many things,” I began. “Some things I am glad I will never see again. There are a few things I want to see again.“

“I know,” he said softly.

“Father,” I said. “I wish he were here to see this day. Come, Elranduil. Let us return to the celebration. I believe the king should see to his court.”

We began walking toward the stairs where the sound of merrymaking filled the air. I hesitated for a moment.

“If you do not wish to return, your subjects will understand,” Elranduil said.

“I wish to join them,” I said. “I realized how long it has been since we had something to celebrate. It has been too long. Far too long.”

We began our descent down to the court room when I was met by Galathil.

“Thinking again,” he asked. Elranduil nodded and went on his way.

“Of course, Galathil,” I answered. “I am the son of Oropher. Thinking is an inherited trait.”

“Father always said as much. You realize Ëarmîr reminds me of Oropher every day. His mother would be proud. I wish our sister could be here to see how he has grown.”

“War has taken many over the centuries that never should have been lost—whether by death or by choice,” I said quietly.

I gave him a pat on the back and walked through the court of bowing courtiers on my way out the front gates and across the bridge.

It was the clearest of nights—it seemed every star in the heavens were shining. I made my way to the tomb of Oropher.

“I miss you, Ada,” I said feeling tear welling in my eyes. “I wish you could be here to see peace in our kingdom. I wish you could have known my son Legolas. He fought gallantly to save the world.”

I could not stop crying. Emotion took me from my posture as I fell to the ground. Three thousand years of pain flowed from me like a waterfall. I do not remember for how long I cried but when I stopped there was no sound left but those of nature. I looked up and was startled by a vision of my mother.

Dressed in a white gown flowing with her hair behind her.

“Thranduil, my son,” she said. “Do not weep for you brought peace to our kingdom and to our people.”

“Nana,” I said standing. “Is that you?”

She reached out and embraced me and I felt her close to me as I had in my youth.

“My little Isilya,” she said. I knew it was Nimeithel. “You have changed so much. I can see it in your eyes. But it is for the best. Soon you must decide what to do and it will be the hardest choice you will ever make.”

“What choice,” I asked. “What else could there be? The war is over. There is peace.”

“I cannot say but you will know when the time comes. I miss you, Thranduil. Since I left you. But I knew then as now that I will see you again. I must go now. I needed to see you once more before you left.”

“Where would I go,” I asked as she kissed my cheek and moved away further and further.” Where would I go? Mother? Nana?”

“What vexes you, Thranduil,” a voice said. I turned to see Eldôr.

“Did you see my mother,” I asked staring into the pitch of night. “She was here. Mother was here.”

“Oh course she was, Thranduil,” he said almost mockingly. “Nimeithel tends to do such things.”

“You do not believe me,” I said defiantly.

“She told you that you would see her again,” he said gently. “And you will. But now you need to rest before the dawn. We have a ceremony to attend.”

As we began toward the palace, I couldn’t help but look back. Nimeithel was gone. I could not help but wonder what she meant about the choice I would have to make. That choice would come to me sooner than I would have wanted.

The day was more beautiful than I could remember—crisp and clear. I was dressed in my finest spring regalia to go before my people. I stood in the hall quietly awaiting my children. Soon, Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin came before me. Nenduîl looked uncomfortable in his little robes which were as mine and I tried not to laugh.

“Shall we go,” I asked.

“Not yet,” Êlúriel said as she stepped out of our room. She was breathtaking—more heavenly than earthly as she approached us. “Now, we can go.”

They nodded and we made our way down the hall toward the front gate. Before we were to exit, we awaited the rest of the family. Soon, Isílriel, Eldôr, Elranduil, Ardôr, Ninyáre, Tarthôn, Ëariâth, Orisil, Arlúin, Elendôr, Aradúlin, Tatháron, Aranduil, Auríel, Êleneth, Aramoth, Nenloth, Nimlos, Sildúriel, Aruilos, Nimlúin, Aradûial, Fëaluin and Linurial. When all were assembled, the doors were opened and we walked out into the sun.

Before us stood every elf in the kingdom standing side by side with elven warriors of Lothlórien. On the bridge awaited Celeborn, Galadriel, Galathil, Ëarmîr, Isílion, Tárion, Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin. As I took my place beside Celeborn and Galathil, I nodded—a smile across my face I felt for what seemed an eternity.

“Elves of Mirkwood,” Celeborn began. “The curse of Sauron that kept your people in shadow is no more. Your kin in the West need not fear any longer the darkness their kin in the East have endured alone. The name of your king shall once again be on the lips of all creatures in Arda as it was always meant to be. Forevermore shall he be known as King Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen.”

There rose from the elves cheers that could be heard for miles around. I turned to Celeborn as he smiled at me. I had no words to express the happiness I felt.

“You need not say a word, Thranduil,” he said. “It was my pleasure. We never should have let you suffer such evil alone. You are one of us—our kin. Forgive me such indignity.”

“There is nothing you have done that needs forgiving,” I said. “It was not your doing that our kingdom fell to Sauron. I know now you did what you felt you had to do. You are here now. That is all that matters.”

“Until tomorrow,” he said. “I am sure Elrond is waiting for us to return to prepare for a wedding.”

“Arwen and Aragorn,” I said.

“Galadriel can hardly contain herself,” he mused. “I find it refreshing she has lent her wisdom elsewhere rather than on me.”

“Seems Nenduîl would agree with you.”

“She told me about him,” he added. “A rather precocious stripling you have there. Galadriel needs more rest than we did coming from battle, I dare say.”

“I am afraid he gets it from my cousin, Elranduil,” I said laughing. “He was much like Nenduîl in his youth.”

“I remember you having an rather inquisitive penchant for trouble,” he said. “As it were, Elranduil told me as much. He said you still have an inkling of it.”

“Elranduil says many things,” I said glancing at him as he spoke with Galathil. “Most of which are exaggeration.”

He laughed and went to Galadriel as Aranduil, Nenduîl and Tárimë ran by followed by several other elven children nearly knocking over Ëarmîr.

“Must I stay, Uncle,” I heard him ask Galathil.

“I beg your pardon,” I asked walking over to them. “What is this about?”

“Ëarmîr will remain with you when we leave,” Galathil said. “He knows his place. Not a word until the day comes.”

“I do not understand,” I began before Elranduil interrupted.

“Enough for now,” he said. “We have things to attend to. If we may, Galathil?”

He nodded and walked away with Ëarmîr.

“Why is Ëarmîr staying with us,” I asked again. “Which of my council is he replacing?”

“No one is leaving,” he said escorting me into the palace. “He is staying with us for a brief time. I would not worry yourself about it just now. You have to decide what to do with the extended borders of Eryn Lasgalen.”

I stopped short of the main gates as the guards opened the door.

“I could have sworn I am the King of the realm,” I said angrily. “Yet, somehow I have no knowledge of what goes on within it. I demand that you tell me what is going on this instant.”

“I cannot tell you for it is not for me to tell,” he said. “Just know it is all for the best. Now, Fëaluin awaits us in your study.”

We continued on into the palace and into the study. I was prepared to protest when I stopped in my tracks. In my presence was Ardôr talking to his son Elendôr as Fëaluin spoke with Eldôr. They turned and bowed to me.

“You wished a word, Fëaluin,” I asked. “Perhaps you can tell me what no one else will.”

“I gather you learned of Ëarmîr,” he said. “He will be staying in Eryn Lasgalen.”

“I am aware of that,” I said sharply. “Why is what I seem to find difficult to ascertain.”

“He is here for me,” he said. “I require additional assistance.”

“Oh, well,” I answered. “That tells me absolutely nothing.”

“I shall explain to you later, if I may, Thranduil,” he said reading a scroll. “My time is sacrosanct just now. Must prepare for tonight.”

“Tonight,” I asked perplexed. “What is tonight?”

“Dinner,” Eldôr said, patting my shoulder as he and Fëaluin walked past me and out of the study.

“Worry not, Thranduil,” Ardôr said quietly. “All is well in your kingdom.”

He left with Elendôr, leaving me and Elranduil to ourselves. I had a feeling of suspicion within that something was going to happen.

“Elranduil, what do you know,” I asked. “Please, tell me.”

“You are the King of Eryn Lasgalen,” he said. “If you wish to know more than that, I am afraid I will be of little help. I am just as confounded as you are, cousin.”

I knew then I was in for another revelation that would be more spectacular than the last.

It was dawn when Êlúriel and I stood with our court on the bridge to bid farewell to Celeborn, Galathil and Galadriel. Beside me stood Elranduil and Ëarmîr, who earlier had a private moment with Galathil and Celeborn before becoming a member of my court. I was curious as to why he was required to stay, however, the time to inquire would come.

“Your Majesty,” Haldir began. “It has truly been a pleasure. My brothers and I have never felt more at home outside Lothlórien in a long time.”

“Think nothing of it,” I said. “You are welcome always in my kingdom.”

“We shall see you again,” Galadriel began, giving me a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Beyond these borders you will one day find your way. Do not tarry.”

I smiled at her; perplexed by her words. Celeborn and Galathil smiled as Isílion and Tárion approached.

“The warriors are ready to return to Lothlórien, My Lords and Lady,” Isílion said. “All has been prepared.”

“See your way home,” Celeborn said to me.

He embraced me one last time and took Galadriel’s hand and went the length of the bridge to their horses. Galathil followed close behind. When everyone was upon their steeds, the elves of Lothlórien left Eryn Lasgalen.

“So, Ëarmîr,” I began. “What task has been given you that you are left in my charge as a new member of my court?”

“You will know soon enough, Your Majesty,” he said softly. “For now, you should take pleasure in your new kingdom and its expanded borders.”

“So I shall,” I said. “And I shall have Fëaluin find you a place in council.”

We entered the palace and the days that came thereafter would be filled with wonders.

Months went by with little fanfare—as the entire kingdom began to become accustomed to a peaceful existence. So many years had gone by where we stood guard and waited for evil to come upon us, even the twitter of birds frightened us whenever one would snap a twig under foot.

One day, I decided to go for a ride with Nenduîl and Tárimë. The care of the royal children was given to Ëarmîr by Fëaluin and he was quite adept at caring for them much to the consternation of Nenduîl and Aranduil. Ëarmîr began to find his place and a friend in Tárimë who adored hearing stories from the court of Lady Galadriel. She had started to grow into young lady wanting to become as elegant and graceful as all the elven maidens of the past.

As I was looking forward to spending the day away from court, Elranduil and Eldor approached me with Tarthôn and Nimlos as I emerged from my chambers.

“Come quickly,” Eldôr said. “Fëaluin is at the front gate.”

“Why,” I asked. “Something amiss?”

“A rider approaches,” Elranduil said. “Come quickly.”

We hurried ourselves toward the front gates and into the crisp morning where Êlúriel waited for us. I could see from a distance lone rider making his way toward us.

“Who is it, Ada,” I heard Nenduîl ask as he ran to my side with his sister and cousin.

I could see who it was and I felt a smile cross my face with eager anticipation.

“Legolas,” I said to myself. “It is Legolas.”

“My son,” Êlúriel whispered.

When his horse stopped at the foot of the bridge, he dismounted as servants helped his companion—a dwarf warrior—down to the ground. Legolas slowly approached me I made my way to him. When were standing in front of one another, we both seemed lost in the sight of one another.

“Ada,” he finally said. “I told you I would return to you.”

I could not contain my joy and embraced him tightly.

“My son,” I whispered to him. “My son. Welcome home.”

I did not want to let him go. My son—my heir—was home at last. When I finally released him, Êlúriel took her turn.

“I knew you would return,” she said. “My little Greenleaf.”

“Nana,” he said, blushing.

Beside him stood the dwarf that arrived with him. He bowed eloquently as any prince would to a king. In his face, I recognized another.

“Ada and Nana, this is Gimli, son of Glóin,” Legolas said. “He is a friend and one of the Fellowship.”

“So I have heard,” I said. “We were fortunate to have met his father again not long before in Dale when I attended the burial of King Dáin of Erebor. It is an honor to meet you Gimli, son of Glóin.”

“And I you, Your Majesty,” Gimli said smiling through his wooly beard cheerfully. “You are not as fearsome as they said.”

“I am glad to hear it,” I said. I could hear Elranduil and Nimlos hiding their laughter behind me as Tarthôn approached.

“Welcome home, brother,” he said to Legolas, embracing him. “Good to have you home once more.”

“It is good to be home,” Legolas answered. “I told Gimli all about you.”

“I feel as I have known you all my life,” Gimli said. “Wait until you hear about me.”

Everyone broke into laughter.

“Are you a real dwarf,” I heard Nenduîl ask as he and Aranduil looked him over curiously.

“I hope so,” he answered. “If I am not, my father will be quite disappointed.”

“Nenduîl, Aranduil,” Ëarmîr scolded. He had arrived in time to save me from my thoughts as I recalled Durin asking me if I were a real elf.

They looked at him and then at me.

“He is a real dwarf,” I answered. “He is welcomed to stay with us as long as he would like. He is a friend of Legolas. You will behave, will you not?”

“Of course, Ada,” Nenduîl said. “We will.”

“Very well, then,” I said. “Fëaluin, show our guest a place to rest. He must be weary from his travels. I wish to speak to my sons alone for a moment, if I may.”

“As you wish,” Fëaluin answered as he motioned to Gimli to follow him and everyone inside.

“It is good to have my sons with me again,” I said. “Together. I am very proud of both of you and all you have done for this world and your kingdom. I do not think there is father in all of Arda as glad as me.”

“Ada has become more sentimental since I have been away,” Legolas said smiling.

“Worse,” Tarthôn said. “Far worse.”

I embraced my sons and then we made our way into palace. Everything was once again as it should be.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-22-17

This is the entire chapter 😘...a particular romantic scene made it impossible to cut into excerpts. And Thranduil has a lovely vision of his mother, Nimeithel. Also, Legolas 🧝🏻‍♂️ returns home. With Gimli, son of Glóin.

Chapter XXVI: (EXT) The Fall of Dol Guldur (Pt. III)

It would be a few days later that word would come from Celeborn in the south. When I was not deep in thought, I spent time with Êlúriel and the children. They were growing up so quickly right before my eyes. On this day, I sat on a bench as I watched them together in the garden, I could not help but see how much Tárimë had begun to look like Êlúriel. So much had changed in the world I had not noticed. Even the trees of the forest seem to sense the change of the ages.

“Ada,” Tárimë said walking toward me. “See. It is a butterfly. It is so pretty, is it not?”

“It is,” I said watching as it fluttered its wings while sitting quietly on Tárimë’s hand. Suddenly it took flight high above us until it was gone.

“You are going to leave again soon,” she said. “I do not want you to go, but I know you must. When your return, will the war be over?”

“I hope it will be, Tárimë,” I said. “It has lasted far too long.”

She sat beside me and leaned her head upon my shoulder.

“Why are there such things as war,” she asked. “I do not understand them.”

“Neither do I,” I answered. It was true—I did not understand them. I did know why there was a need for them. They seemed to steal lives and souls over something as meaningless as power. It seemed to be the only thing any one being could keep for themselves as things intangible as time could not be tamed.

“War is like winter,” she said. “The days are shorter and the nights longer. Like a season that never ends.”

I felt a chill run through me when I heard her words. Êlúriel had said them to me before I left for Dagorlad. I looked at Tárimë—her face stoic and lost in thought.

“You are wise for your age,” I said softly. “Very much so.”

“Nana said that to me long ago,” she answered. “I take after Queen Êlúriel.”

“Your mother was right,” I began. “You are very much like her if not rather short.”

She looked at me and smiled.

“I have not yet come of age,” she said giggling. “When I do, will I be as graceful as a queen?”

“You already are,” I said kissing atop her head.

We sat together quietly—watching Êlúriel with Eärluin and Auríel as Nenduîl and Aranduil played nearby.

“Thranduil,” I heard a voice say behind me. I looked up to see Elmîr. I rose with Tárimë.

“Yes,” I asked. “What is it?”

“One comes from Lothlórien to see you,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said. I turned to Tárimë. “I will see you before I leave. Go to Nana now.”

She nodded and walked away slowly. She glanced back once with a look that nearly broke my heart. I nodded to Elmîr and we made our way into the palace and to the throne room where two elven men stood surrounded by my council and my court.

“I thought you said one, Elmîr,” I said.

“They accompanied the one that came from Lothlórien,” he whispered.

I stood before the two men—both with long golden hair and grey eyes. They bowed to me.

“Your Majesty,” one said. “I am Isílion and my brother Tárion. We come to you from Lothlórien with a bearer of a message.”

“Where is this messenger,” I asked.

Out of the shadow stepped figure hooded in a white cloak. Once removed, the room fell silent. I approached her.

“Lady Galadriel,” I said. “This is quite an honor and rather unexpected. I thought you to be in Caras Galadhon under the protection of guards.”

“I was there,” she began. “And Caras Galadhon is well protected. I come of my own will to you. Our borders are safe as our warriors were able to push the glamhoth back from whence they came. Dol Guldur. It is now time for you to join Celeborn to bring down what is left of Sauron’s forces that remain.”

“I thought you would be making your way westward by now,” I said. “There is no need for many of our kin to stay longer than we need to. Most of all you, daughter of Finarfin. I am to think you remain for Celeborn?”

“You may think many things, Thranduil, as you will. But I know your heart and it is with your people as ours.”

I motioned for Fëaluin to come to me.

“Prepare to leave at dawn,” I whispered. 

He nodded and left with Sildúr and Aradin. I returned my gaze to Galadriel. Her beauty had not shown and signs of fading as her age would dictate. She smiled serenely at me.

“Will you remain within my halls until our return,” I asked.

“If it pleases you, Thranduil,” she said. “I will see you and Celeborn again and if it be here then so will it be.”

“Very well,” I said. “I will have my court prepare quarters for you and your companions.”

“I know I will be well served and protected,” Galadriel said. 

Isílriel, Ardúin and her sisters Linurial and Súlthulë bowed reverently and escorted Galadriel and her companions away. I gave Eldôr a look he found amusing.

“Thranduil,” he began. “I am quite sure the children will enjoy her company.”

“What are you not telling me, Uncle,” I asked.

“What would I keep from you,” he asked.

“I am not fool enough to think that the Lady of Light has left her kingdom without someone to see to its routine while she is away. There are only two directions an elf will go and often that is not east to Mirkwood without cause.”

“Elrond remains in Rivendell,” he said. “I do not know whether or not many remain there or in Lothlórien, but he is well aware of the whereabouts of his entire family.”

“Good,” I said. “Then I will not awaken to any more of them before I leave for battle or is that wishful thinking?”

“No more,” he said smiling. “But they are your kin, you realize.”

“I do not need reminding, Eldôr,” I said. “I need this war to end before my kingdom becomes a bastion for any more of my estranged kin.”

I made my way to my study and watched the waters falling in the fading light of day. Tomorrow I would ride to my last battle in this world. I could not help but wonder if I would see Legolas again. 

Before the light of day, I was dressed and prepared to ride to Dol Guldur. I did not want to wake Nenduîl and Tárimë as I knew they would worry. I walked through the front gates to where my warriors waited for me with Fëaluin, Eldôr, Elranduil and Nimlos.

“Thranduil, son of Oropher,” I heard a voice whisper to me. I turned around to see Galadriel standing behind me with Êlúriel and our children. “We have little to fear for you are your father’s son and he would be proud of you.”

“Thank you, Galadriel,” I said. I kissed her hand. “Look southward to our victorious return.”

She smiled and nodded. I approached Êlúriel.

“I leave you again,” I said. “One last time.”

“For one last time I will say ‘return to me’,” she said.

“I will,” I answered. “You have my word.”

I kissed her quickly and I went on my way. As a stable hand brought my horse, I noticed Isílion and Tárion speaking with Elmîr and Sildúr. Upon my approach, they bowed.

“You are to take me to Celeborn,” I asked them.

“Of course,” Tárion said. “When His Majesty is ready.”

I looked at my warriors and mounted my horse. The others followed suit. I gave the command and the banners were raised.

“Noro,” I said. “To Dol Guldur.”

We rode in silence—our minds deep in thought. Would this truly be the last battle I would ever see? Would I return home and would I ever see Legolas again? The unknown is often the only thing we know—it is the certainty that anything can and will happen. The mystery lies within us as to the outcome. I always thought I knew what I would do any given moment and realizing too late that preparation was merely expectation of something unexpected.

As we made our way closer to Dol Guldur, we me Tarthôn and Aruilos at their position at Emyn Duir as their men were packing the camp to move further South.

“Father,” he said. “It is good to see you again.”

“What news have you heard from Celeborn,” I asked.

“His warriors were able to force what was left of the glamhoth into their garrison,” Aruilos said. “Not long after many were lost not far from Angrenost. Lord Celeborn sent word to us that they have surrounded them preparing to lay siege upon them.”

“Upon my arrival, no less,” I said. “Let us go together so we might set up camp before nightfall.”

They nodded and hurried to their horses.

“Where is Ardôr,” Elranduil asked looking for his son. “I thought he would be here with Êlenuil and Elendôr.”

“They went on ahead, Ada,” Orísil said as he rode up to us. “Not long after Celeborn sent word to you.”

“He knew of the messenger,” he asked.

“You mean Lady Galadriel,” Orísil said smiling. “Yes, of course.”

“He told you this himself,” Nimlos asked.

“No,” he answered. “From one called Glorfindel.”

Elranduil let out a deep sigh as Nimlos laughed with Eldôr.

“Come,” I said sternly. “Let us not tarry any longer.”

I thought back long ago to when I first met Glorfindel. Beyond what I remembered of him, I was lost in the memory of my father and Melros I lost at Dagorlad. Before long my thoughts were turned to seeing the Elves of Lothlórien making camp. When we had stopped, I motioned to Fëaluin. He took charge of preparing my tent. As I dismounted, I stood beside Elranduil, Nimlos, Eldôr, Tarthôn Orísil and Aruilos as Isílion and Tárion waited with us as Haldir and his brothers Rúmil and Orophin approached us.

“Your Majesty,” Haldir said bowing. “Good to see you again. Lord Celeborn awaits you in his tent. Shall we, Your Majesty?”

I nodded and we made our way toward a large white tent with silver and white banners at its doors. I entered to see Ardôr and his sons waiting with us with Celeborn.

“Celeborn, son of Galadhon,” I said approaching him. “I have come to you as promised.”

“So you have,” he said. “I am indebted to you.”

“You need not be,” I said. “You know me well enough to know I would do anything to bring peace to my people. We have been cast asunder by the evil of Sauron for far too long. I wish to put an end to it. My life is a small price to pay should that be the cost.”

“Not you, Thranduil,” he said. “You will not fall here or anywhere I imagine. You might well be the strongest of our kin. I know you are the most headstrong of our kind.”

“I have lost too much not to be so,” I said. “Too much I have endured not to be strong when I must. But enough idle chatter. How do we bring about the fall of Dol Guldur once and for all?”

He went to his table as the tent began to fill with elves that would lead the charge. When everyone was accounted, I stood with Celeborn at his table with Fëaluin at my side. Before we could start, two elves entered.

“Many apologies for my lateness,” the first said. He had long hair of gold and grey eyes that seemed softened by tragedy but no less courageous.

“None is necessary,” Celeborn said smiling. “You remember Thranduil, do you not?”

“It has been quite a long time,” he began as he bowed. “Perhaps too long.”

“Galathil,” I said. “It has been too long.”

The other elf that entered stood beside Celeborn quietly. He bowed politely—his youth obvious to everyone, with his soft brown hair and deep green eyes.

“This is Ëarmîr,” Celeborn said. “He is council to me and my brother, Galathil.” I nodded and once again all fell quiet as we readied ourselves to discuss our offensive.

“Many orcs may not remain, but they fight no less fiercely,” Celeborn began. 

“Their allegiance is to one greater than life itself—to the one that they have given what is left of a soul that remains within them.”

“It was the detriment that they parceled themselves thin,” Galathil said. “Quickly they fell at Angrenost underestimating that which they thought powerless.”

“The Ents,” Ëarmîr said softly. “They left few to retreat save one or two—far less than what returned from the borders of Lothlórien.”

“We have the advantage of limiting when and where they fight surrounding their fortress,” I said. “But not long will it be before they decide to give all or nothing to what little they have left. Let the bowmen take as many down as allowed and the rest of us will wait for their emergence from squalor—for that what will be too much to bare.”

“I will prepare my men tonight,” Aradin said. “With the archers of Lothlorien, we should have plenty to surround the whole of Dol Guldur and hold them for days.”

I nodded and he rose and left quickly with Elmîr close behind.

“This will be the last battle we shall fight,” Celeborn said.

“It has to be,” I said. “For if we do not win, everyone in this world will live in darkness.”

After much discussion, I left Celeborn’s tent for mine. I knew at first light, my last battle would begin. I looked South to a familiar sight—the flames of Orodruin. As they had burned for as long as I could remember, I thought of all that were fighting not far from where so many of my warriors fell beside my father.

“Ada,” I heard behind me. “Might I have a word?”

“Yes, Tarthôn,” I answered as I entered my tent with him.

I sat in my seat beside my table as Tarthôn sat on my chaise nearby.

“What worries you,” I asked.

“You worry me,” he said. “I know what you lost in similar circumstances. I fear you would allow yourself to fall.”

“There is no need to worry,” I said smiling. “I would not do such a thing. I have had plenty of time think on it, but there were far more things I had to live for. You and Legolas, Nenduîl and Tárimë. My people. Êlúriel. I worry how it would be should I not return against my will.”

“You will return, Ada. And so will I.”

“Why are you so sure of such things,” I asked.

“Because, I was told,” he said. “Though I have a family of my own, I still in need of a father. You will keep your word you made to Melros. It still ails you.”

“Yes, son,” I answered. “It does.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” he began. “You are as great a father as you are a king. As Legolas, I will keep my word and return home.”

“You are a good son,” I said, remembering Melros’ words to me. “A very good son. I am proud to have raised you. You are much a part of me as Legolas.”

He smiled and bowed to me.

“See you at first light, Ada,” he said. “And when we complete our task, we will ride home together. I love you, Ada.”

“I love you as well, Tarthôn.”

He left me alone to think. Silence demands to be heard—it can be sharper than a blade and more painful. I tried to keep my thoughts from clashing like blades in my mind. I realized I had not fought many wars but one. There had only been times of peace intermingled with battles. When I found a calm within me, the darkness had begun to lighten. It was time once more to wage war with evil.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-22-17

Galadriel arrives in Mirkwood with a message: time to fight the last battle. Thranduil makes his way to Dol Guldur. He meets up with Celeborn and his brother Galathil (you know him as the father of Nimloth, wife of Dior and mother of Elwing). They prepare to the last garrison of Sauron while the rest of the world fights in the south and two hobbits and Gollum make their way to the fires 🔥 of Mt. Doom. But you know that. 😌

Chapter XXVI: (EXT) The Fall of Dol Guldur (Pt. II)

“As the sun rose the next morning, we were led to out of the palace to take my place in a procession toward the gates of Erebor. As we rode toward the mountain, memories flooded my mind of the past. I was filled with sadness knowing I would look upon death once more. We came to the gates of Erebor and began our descent into the heart of the mountain.

Lying in eternal slumber lay the two kings side by side.

“They died together,” Dwalin whispered. “So shall they remain together forever. I never thought I would see this day when man would lie at rest beside a dwarf.”

“It is the sign of the times,” Thorin said softly. “Blood of one is no different from another. In war it all the same. No different in death for neither shall see the light of day. They were friends in life and together gave their lives for their people.“

As we passed before the fallen kings, I paused before Dáin. I remembered when met we fought the battle that took Thorin Oakenshield so many years before. I placed my hand upon his that held his axe.

“Farewell, Elf-Friend,” I whispered. “King Dáin of Erebor. Your legacy shall be remembered through all the ages.”

The processional continued to move quietly through dimly lit caverns of the mountain and into the light of day. I could not help but think of how much timed had passed or how much it had changed me. When all was done we began our return to Dale.

Evening fell quickly as I stood along the balcony of the city square looking into the valley below. I would be leaving for home in the morning. Êlúriel was with Aurëwyn, learning about the city. My mind had little thought of anything but a profound misunderstanding of life itself.

“Thranduil,” I heard Fëaluin say. “Someone wishes a word with you.”

I turned to see Dwalin and Glóin standing before me. I nodded as they came closer and bowed.

“Your Majesty,” Dwalin said. “I wanted to thank you for coming.”

“You need not thank me, Dwalin,” I said. “I wanted to come. I only wished I had come while Dáin was still with us.”

“It is not an easy task ruling a kingdom,” Glóin said. “Especially in times such as these. I know what you have given to this war for I gave to it the same. You have nothing that needs forgiving.”

“Perhaps,” I said. “Though if you remember, it was me that put you away in my dungeons not so long ago without even thought to your plight or your mission.”

“That was long ago,” Dwalin said. “If there were a debt to be paid, it was done when you fought at our side against Bolg and his evil horde. Besides, better your dungeon than the web of a spider.”

We could not help but share a laugh.

“Thank you,” I said. “For your forgiveness and your friendship.”

“You are welcome,” he answered.

“May our sons return to us,” Glóin said. “To cement our friendship for another generation.”

They bowed to me and left for the night. My spirits began to lighten when I realized I was not alone. I looked down and saw Bain and Durin looking at me with curiosity.

“Are you a real elf,” Durin asked.

“Yes, I am,” I answered. “Are you a real dwarf?”

“Of course he is,” Bain said. “Just a very small one.”

“So I see,” I said. “You must be a human, then. A very small one.”

Durin laughed as Bain nudged him.

“You are both up rather late. Should you not be in bed?”

“I suppose,” Bain began. “But we cannot sleep.”

“I wanted to see a real elf,” Durin said.

“You have, so you can sleep now,” I said.

“How old are you,” he asked.

“That is not polite, Durin,” Bain said. “You never ask old people their age.”

I kneeled down to their height and took hold of them. They stiffened in fear—their eyes growing larger.

“I am very old,” I said smiling. “I have seen every one of your bed time stories I am sure of it.”

“You were alive when the dragon came,” Durin asked.

“Older than that, Durin,” I said.

“That is old,” Bain said. “Tell us more.”

“What are you doing out of your room,” Aurëwyn said coming toward us. “I apologize to His Majesty if they are being a nuisance.”

“They are fine,” I said. “It is my fault they are here. They wanted to have an audience with me, did you not?”

“Yes,” Bain said quickly. “An audience.”

“What is an audience,” Durin asked.

“Can we stay, Mother,” Bain asked. “Please?”

Aurëwyn looked at me knowing not what to say to me.

“Where is Êlúriel,” I asked her.

“The queen has retired to her chambers, Your Majesty,” she said.

I stood up and walked to her. She looked at me with a familiar expression—so much like Súlelenth.

“Good,” I said. “It is fine for the children to stay. I will have Fëaluin see them to bed.”

“Are you sure, Your Majesty,” she said softly.

“Yes. Pedo enni adui.”

Her eyes began to tear up and I knew she understood me. She nodded and walked away quietly. I turned back to the boys that stood in wonder—their mouths agape.

“Now, where were we,” I asked, sitting upon a stone bench.

“The dragon,” Durin said climbing onto my lap. “You know about the dragon.”

“I want to know about my great great grandfather,” Bain said sitting beside me. “He slew the dragon, did he not?”

“Yes, he did,” I said.

I told them many things into the night until they fell asleep. It was Nimlos and Elranduil that carried them away to their room in the palace. Once the children were taken away, two guards approached me and bowed as I rose. I knew what they had come. I nodded and followed them away to a spacious garden where lantern lit paths led to monuments to the past. In front of a stone figure stood Aurëwyn waiting for me.

“Your Majesty,” she said. “You wished to speak with me.”

“So it is true,” I said. “You know the language of the elves.”

“Yes,” she said. “My great grandfather learned it from his brother’s wife.”

“Arímë,” I said. “She was the cousin of my wife Êlúriel.”

“I know,” she said. “She told me tonight. My grandfather spoke of it often. He was proud to have an Elda in the family. He died when I was very young; not long after my father.”

“You have my sympathy,” I said softly, looking at the stone figure.

“You knew my husband’s ancestor,” she said. “His namesake.”

“I did.”

“What is it like to have lived for so long,” she asked.

“As any other creature,” I answered. “Only longer.”

She smiled and began walking down a path into a lower area. Curiously, I followed her. Beneath ornate stone arches covered in vine, I realized tombs surrounded us. She stood before one that had “Arímë Gildúriel” carved into the marble.

“I know you wanted to come,” she said. “To see her one last time before you leave tomorrow. If she were still here I am sure she would have wanted to see you both again. Good night, Your Majesty.”

She smile once more and disappeared into the darkness of the palace. I stood alone for a moment looking at the face of the stone in thought—thinking of Nenduîl and Tárimë. I wish she could see how much they had grown. I had lived longer than I wanted and seen far more than I needed. I touched the stone. It was colder than the night but not without its own eternal beauty.

“I knew I would find you here,” I heard Fëaluin say from behind.

“Of course you would, Fëaluin,” I answered. “I am sure you convinced Aurëwyn to bring me here.”

“Sadly, no,” he said. “It was Êlúriel. Aurëwyn showed me the way.”  

“How else would you have found your way,” he asked. “Dale is different than it once was centuries ago.”

“All things are different than they once were,” I said. “Tomorrow will be different than today. What will never change is us.”

“You have changed greatly,” he said. “For the better, I must say. No longer the pampered son of a king. Now you are a father and a king.”

“I was never pampered. You have me confused with Elranduil.”

“No,” he said. “If I am not mistaken, you were quite a handful. That is what mother told me and Fínduin after spending a day with you.” 

I looked at the tomb once more.

“Namárië, Arímë Gildúriel,” I whispered. “Pedathon i narn o Nenduîl a Tárimë.”

I turned away and walked with Fëaluin through the gardens and to our quarters in the palace. Once I was in my room, I saw Êlúriel standing by the window.

“Arímë left this world peacefully,” she said. “For that I am grateful.”

I removed my coat and I went to her and embraced her from behind, burying my face in the curve of her neck. I kissed it softly and felt her quiver.

“I wish she had gotten to see Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin one last time,” I whispered. “I was against it. I am ashamed, Êlúriel.”

“Do not be,” she said turning around. “They would have never understood age or sickness. They should remember her as she was—as I remember her. She would have wanted it that way.”

She looked into my eyes and realized I could not see hers for the tears in mine. Using her sleeve, she began wiping them away.  

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” she whispered, kissing me. “Nothing.”

“You are too good to me,” I said.

“I know,” she answered. “But you make me want to be.”

At dawn, the whole of Erebor and Dale had come to see us off. Thorin, Dwalin and Glóin stood before us beside Bard and Aurëwyn.

“It has been an honored with your visit,” Bard began. “Though I wish it had been under better circumstances, Your Majesties.”

“It is we that are honored,” I said. “You and Thorin have been the most gracious of hosts.”

Nimlos helped Êlúriel upon her horse and before another word was said, Bain and Durin ran to me.

“Must you leave now,” Bain asked.

“I am afraid so,” I said.

“Here,” Durin said handing me something. “This is for you.”

It was small dragon carved out of wood. For its size, it was rather detailed in its features.

“Thank you, Durin,” I said smiling. “I will treasure it always.”

“I know I will hear from you again, Your Majesty,” Dwalin said.

“I am sure of it,” Glóin said. “If I know my Gimli.”

“Then Legolas is in good company,” I said.

I mounted my horse and we rode away beside Êlúriel and Elranduil with Fëaluin and Nimlos close behind. As we rode out of the city gates there was much fanfare from men and dwarves alike. I looked forward to my return home, but for the first time, I was leaving a place I wanted to stay longer.

“I am going to miss them,” I said.

“Who are you,” Elranduil asked. “Where is my cousin? I have never known you to miss man or dwarf in you lifetime.”

“I missed Aûrvar,” I said. “He was pleasant from what I remember. Though few men I have missed, I was rather fond of Bard of Esgaroth.”

“I look forward to the day when we are at peace,” Nimlos said. “That has yet to come to fruition. Until that day, my concerns lie with our people in the south.”

“Never mind those once more facing the gates of Barad-Dûr,” Fëaluin said. 

“There is still darkness in that must be destroyed.”

“It will be,” I said. “I believe it will be this time.”

We rode the rest of the way in silence. Before long we had arrived at the gates of my palace. We dismounted and our horses taken away in time for Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin came running to us.

“Ada! Nana,” they said embracing me.

“You are home,” Tárimë said.

“Yes, I we are,” I said. “Were you good?”

“I was,” Nenduîl said.

“So was I,” Tárimë said.

“She hit Aranduil again,” Eärluin said.

“I did not,” Tárimë said angrily. “That was you.”

“Eärluin,” Êlúriel began. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” she answered giggling as Êlúriel took her hand.

Eldôr approached us, his expression rather stern—nearly painful.

“Uncle,” I said. “Are you well?“

“Next time, I am going with you. No matter where it is,” he said.

Elranduil laughed as he embraced his father. Nimlos led Nenduîl and Tárimë after Êlúriel and Eärluin into the palace with Fëaluin close behind.

“Any word while we were gone,” I asked.

“No,” he said. “It is starting to worry me.”

“I would think no word would be a good thing,” Elranduil said. “Perhaps there will be little need for another battle.”

“That will not happen,” Eldôr said. “Of all the glamhoth we killed, one was seen to have survived and made his way to Dol Guldur. If there were none left, he would have not gone back the way he came and maiming a few of our own. None mortally, thankfully.”

“Then we wait,” I said. “We will be prepared for anything.”

We walked into the palace together. In my hand, I held Durin’s little dragon tightly—my mind on what I knew was about to come.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-21-17

Thranduil attends Dáin and Brand’s funeral, has a moment with Bain and Durin, then speaks with Aurëwyn who shows him Arímë’s grave. He returns to his room and has a moment with Êlúriel. The next day, they leave for home— not before Durin gives Thranduil a gift of a wooden dragon (he loves dragons 🐉). Returning home, he learns of an orc escape but no word from Lothlórien which worries him.

Chapter XXVI: (EXT) The Fall of Dol Guldur (Pt. I)

“Not long after that night, I found myself wandering alone through the halls of my palace. I found myself standing before a window beyond my throne looking outward into glistening waterfalls lit by rays of the sun. Though I felt little pain, I still wore a bandage wrapped securely around my torso.

“What is on your mind, Thranduil,” I heard Fëaluin ask as he approached me.

“Just thinking,” I said. “Nothing in particular.”

He looked at me without saying a word. His face was stoic, but his eyes seemed animated.

“Well, then,” he said. “Should this war end, our time will come to leave this world for another.”

“And if there is no end to war, Fëaluin,” I asked. What then? I should remain here waiting for peace and hoping I see my son again?”

“What of your children,” he asked. “They would not let you go the way of despair.”

“I know,” I sighed. “Especially the little ones. But I will send them to safety no matter what they say.”

“I hardly imagine Legolas or Tarthôn will leave you to your own, either.“

“I have lived my life, Fëaluin,” I said. “I have seen a great many troubles. Eternity would only remind me of them.”

“And what of Êlúriel,” he asked. “You wish her to choose between you and those that have sailed and wait to see her again?”

“No,” I said. “I would never force her to choose. I know which she would choose and I could not bear the guilt. Yet, I have not conquered death.”

“And you never will,” he said. “You will change your mind–I know you will. For now, you thoughts are needed elsewhere.”

“Is there word from Celeborn,” I asked. 

“No,” he said. “From Dale. King Dáin of Erebor has fallen and at his side King Brand of Dale.”

I was crestfallen—remembering my friend Dáin fighting valiantly during the first battle in Dale not long ago.

“From whom was this message sent,” I asked quietly.

“From his kinsmen,” he said. “You have met him twice before. Dwalin, son of Funduin. His brother disappeared after coming through our kingdom a second time on his way to Khazâd-dûm.”

“I remember. Balin,” I said. “I dare not think of the fate that befell him and his company though I am sure Aiwendil knows well of it. And who shall rise in their places?”

“Dáin’s son Thorin, of course,” he began. “To Dale will sit Bard, son Brand.” I knew it would be some time before their coronations but I knew I had to pay my respects.

“I am sure they wish to lay them to rest swiftly,” I said. “The war has not yet ended and what will come remains unpredictable.”

“Who do you wish to accompany you,” Fëaluin asked.

“You, of course,” I answered. “Nimlos and Elranduil. Eldôr should remain behind should word come from Emyn Duir.”

“I wish to go with you as well,” I heard Êlúriel say. I turned to see her smiling at me.

“Very well,” he answered. “We leave at first light.”

Fëaluin bowed and left.

“Who will remain behind with the children,” I asked.

“Who do you think, Thranduil,” she asked. “Isílriel, of course.” 

“Of course,” I said.

“I will prepare,” she said. “Please rest some more.”

“I am fine, Êlúriel,” I said. “Stop worrrying so much.”

“Then you have not lived long enough,” he said.

She smiled and left while I took the winding stairs down to the main hall and went into my study where Elranduil waited in my chair.

“We are going to Dale,” he said.

“How would you know of it,” I asked.

“The caverns have ears as well as voices, cousin,” he said. “How could I not have known?”

“The only ears and voices in this palace belong to your wife and her ladies.”

“That is not true,” he said. “Always. I happen to have been with Fëaluin when one of our Marchwardens from the East came with the message from Dale.”

“I have had my fill of death for one life time,” I said. “I suppose men and dwarves see it once and nevermore.”

“Not if they live to see it again,” he said. “Then they leave death for their children to see. It is a cycle that is never-ending. No matter what the old tales say. It is our misfortune to see such things for centuries. I gather we will leave at first light?”

“Yes,” I said. “It will be you, Nimlos, Fëaluin and Êlúriel, of course.”

He rose from my chair and walked over to me.

“We have seen better times,” he began. “It will be far better at the end of them, will it not?”

“Perhaps, but the end will not come soon enough, I am afraid.”

He nodded and left my alone. I sat down at my table thought about many things—so long, I had not realized darkness had begun to fall.

Before the sun rose, I went to see about Nenduîl and Tárimë. They slept soundly in their chambers as I watched them—their innocence I protected and coveted. Time had kept from me memories of my youth. I could barely remember when I was their age.

“Ada,” Tárimë said softly as she sat up. “Are you going away again?”

“Yes,” I answered as I sat beside her. “With Nana, but not for long.”

“I do not like it when you go away,” she said.

“Nor do I, Tárimë,” I said holding her. “Do you think I like being away from you, your sister and brother?”

“No,” she answered. “But when you are gone, Nenduîl teases me all the time.”

“I do not,” Nenduîl said as he walked over. “You tease me all the time.”

“Eärluin teases us both,” Tárimë said frowning.

“She teases everyone,” his sister said. “But boys are just awful.”

“Ada is boy,” he said. “You think he is awful as well?”

“No,” she said. “Just you and Aranduil.”

“Come now,” I started. “Be nice. I do not want to leave thinking you are not getting along.”

“We get on alright,” Nenduîl said. “When Tárimë, Eärluin and Auríel are elsewhere.”

“Nenduîl.”

“What,” he asked. “I like my sisters. Sometimes.”

“You wish me to leave and worry about you while I am gone,” I asked.

“No,” they said.

Nenduîl sat beside me as his sister climbed on my lap.

“So I have your word you will be good for Eldôr and Isílriel?”

“Isílriel,” Tárimë asked. “I love Isílriel. Eldôr tells us lots of stories. Just like great grandfather.”

“Is it true you ran around without anything on when you were little,” Nenduîl asked.

“I did no such thing,” I said. “Now back to bed both of you.”

“You did do that,” Tárimë said giggling.

I kissed her forehead and tucked her in as she continued to giggle. I picked up Nenduîl and carried him to his bed and tucked him in.

“Behave,” I said, kissing his forehead. “I will return.”

“Yes, Ada,” he said. As I left the room, I could here them both giggling.

When the doors were shut I made my way down the hall where I met Fëaluin, Nimlos and Elranduil.

“The Queen awaits us,” Fëaluin said.

“Let us leave now,” I said. “Pray we return before the call comes from Lothlórien.”

We made our way out of the gates where our horses were prepared. Êlúriel was already mounted and waiting patiently.

“Elranduil,” I asked. “Where would Nenduîl get the idea I ran around without anything on when I was little?”

He laughed as he and the others mounted their horses.

“Do not look at me, cousin,” he said. “It must have been Father. I did not say a word. I hardly remember, it was so long ago.”

“I heard it from your mother,” Êlúriel said to Elranduil.

“You mean to say it is true,” Nimlos asked. “I thought you were lying.”

I mounted my horse and rode past them without saying a word as they tried to hide their laughter.

“I will deal with you later, cousin,” I said beneath my breath.

We headed down the familiar path of Forest River leading toward Dale. As the sun rose, the city—grander than the ruins we had left long ago with Erebor rising high above nearly touching the sky as it lit up with the coming of a new day. The closer we came to the city, the more figures I could see—men and dwarves alike. The flags of Erebor and Dale flew side by side. Once inside the square, we were met by a man and a dwarf followed by others.

“I knew you would come,” the elder of the dwarves said as I dismounted.  

Nimlos helped Êlúriel down as several servants took our horses one way and possessions another.

“Of course, I would come, Dwalin,” I said. “How could I not come? I do believe it has been some time since you have seen my wife, Êlúriel.”

“It has,” Dwalin said. “Still as lovely a lass I have ever laid my eye upon.”

“You are too kind,“ Êlúriel said kissing his forehead.

“Dale welcomes you all,” the young man said. “I am Bard, son of Brand.”

The younger of the dwarves stepped forward cautiously—a youth at his side.

“I am Thorin, son of Dáin,” he said. “This is my son, Durin. We welcome Your Majesties, King and Queen of Mirkwood and your company.”

“Thank you,” I answered. “I wish it were for a happier occasion.”

“Of course,” Dwalin said. “Come, there is food and drink prepared for you in Dale’s great hall.”

We followed the group toward the grand gates along cobbled streets leading to the of the palace above.

“It has been some time since I saw you last,” said a dwarf with hair and beard red as fire. “You might not remember me. I am Glóin, son of Gróin. I came into your kingdom with a company of others.”

“Yes,” I said quietly. I was still ashamed of my actions.

“I had the pleasure of meeting your son in Rivendell,” he said. “Legolas, I believe is his name.”

I felt a warm feeling run through me that someone had seen Legolas. I could feel my face smiling.

“Yes,” I said proudly. “Legolas is my son.”

“He is out there fighting alongside my son, Gimli,” he said. “I hope both return to us in one piece.”

“How else would they come back,” Durin asked.

“Not good,” said a little boy that had come along side Durin. “Not good at all.”

“Bain,” Bard said. “Quiet.”

“Yes, father,” he said.

I looked around and felt a sense of familiarity again. Bard, though younger than his ancestor, looked liked him—brown hair with soft green eyes—and Thorin looked a great deal like Thorin Oakenshield—his long brown hair and beard surrounding eyes of blue.

We reached two great doors opened by several guards. Before us stood a beautiful maiden with golden hair and sharp brown eyes.

“This is my wife, Aurëwyn,” Bard said, taking her hand.

“It is an honor to finally meet you both,” she said bowing.

“Finally,” I asked as everyone was shown to our places.

“Yes,” she said taking her seat. “I have heard many things about your kingdom from my father. His father’s uncle had been there once. I wish they were here now. They both died in the war.”

“I am sorry to hear it,” I said. “What was his name, if I may ask?”

“Haldúir, Your Majesty,” she said. “He was a very old but dear man. He fell at the gates of Erebor beside King Brand and King Dáin. It was foolish of me, but I think he wished to die. He had not been the same since his beloved wife died. Arímë was her name. I do not remember her. She died a long time ago.”

My heart sank in that moment. I could not help but see Arímë’s face in my mind. Êlúriel’s expression seemed stoic hearing the name of her cousin. I looked across to see Elranduil’s expression—it was the same as my own I was sure.

“Well, tomorrow we shall lay the dead to rest,” Thorin said. “We shall honor them for their deeds foolish or otherwise.”

There was an unsettling silence as we dined together. When we were finished, we were shown our quarters for the night. Lit by lanterns, the stone walls were covered with fine tapestries. Êlúriel prepared for the evening as I watched day fall to night and the moonrise casting a gentle light throughout the valley.

I felt shame again. I wish I had let Arímë see her grandchildren again. I believed it must have taken her life never to see Nenduîl and Tárimë again. As I thought, I heard a knock at the door.

“Enter,” I said. It was Fëaluin. “What is it?”

“I know what you are thinking, Thranduil,” he said. “I always do.”

“You are worse than Eldôr,” I said.

“Then might I suggest you think more quietly,” he said.

I could hear a soft laugh as Êlúriel walked into an adjoining chamber.

“I wonder if Aurëwyn knew her father’s father’s uncle was married to one that was once one of us,” I said. “Perhaps that is why she told us her story.”

“No, she does not,” he said coming to me. “Bard said as much.”

“I do not understand,” I said.

“Men may die never to return, but they leave many tales behind from one generation to the next. His father told him and his father before him and his father before him.”

“Bard knew of this?”

“Of course he did,” Fëaluin said. “Whether he knew of her relation to Êlúriel I do not know.”

“I feel horrible,” I said. “Arímë must have died of a broken heart.”

“Your conscience is clear,” he said. “She died from whatever took her daughter.”

“Is there any place left in this world where death does not linger,” I asked.

“I am afraid not, Thranduil,” he said. “It will always linger for it has nothing but time to do so.”

We spoke no more that night. After a while, he left me alone with my thoughts. Êlúriel watched me from across the room. Looking into the shadow of Erebor, all I wished to do was return home.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-20-17

As Thranduil recouperates, he is called to Dale by Dwalin (remember him from the Hobbit). King Dáin II Ironfoot was killed in the Second Battle of Dale beside King Brand (son of Bain) fighting Easterlings under the control of Sauron. Now Dáin’s son Thorin III will take his place and Bard II will take his father Brand’s place. Thranduil meets Aurëwyn, wife of Bard and their son Bain. He also meets Durin, young son of Thorin. Thranduil learns Glóin had met Legolas in Rivendell and that his son Gimli was part of the Fellowship of the Ring. Thranduil and Êlúriel learn that Aurëwyn was related to Haldúir, husband of Arímë. They also learn he died in the battle for Erebor and had given up living prior to the battle over the death of Arímë. Thranduil has overwhelming feelings of past mistakes. 😔

Chapter XXV: (EXT) Battle in the North (Pt. II)

“I entered my study filled with my council and my commanders stoically waiting for me. As they bowed, Fëaluin took his place at my side by my table with the princes of the realm. I took my seat and motioned to Eldôr.

“His Majesty will lead small few warriors against the orcs at the borders, but the rest will leave before the sun rises toward Dol Guldur and await the elven forces from Lothlórien.”

“Who will lead them,” Nimlos asked.

“Tarthôn,” I said. “And with him will go Ardôr, Orísil, Aruilos and Elendôr.”

Tarthôn looked at me and nodded.

“Once our fight is done, we will join you,” Eldôr continued.

“And who will protect the palace then,” Elendôr asked.

“The guard, of course,” Fëaluin answered. “There is no need to engage them unless there is a direct threat.”

“My brother and I will see to that,” Elenadar said. “Do not worry for your family. Concern yourself with your return. You will stand against an evil like no other. Save your strength and your thoughts on that.”

The doors of the study opened and closed and voices were heard speaking in whispers. I stood up as for elves walked out of the shadows and stood before me. I looked at Fëaluin—his face fell into his hands.

“Oh no,” he whispered.

Before us stood Sîrandor, Sîrandír and their twin cousins Sílrandor and Sûlrandír.

“My sons,” Elenatar and Elenadar said approaching their children.

“Your Majesty,” Sílrandor began. “We have returned to fight. The words of war are on the lips of everyone.”

“Even in Mithlond,” Sûlrandír said.

“Does your mother know you have returned,” Elenadar asked.

“Yes, Ada,” Sîrandír answered. “She and Elenlúin have long since sailed.”

“We did not come alone,” Sîrandor said.

“We came together, Sîrandor,” Sílrandor said.

“You know what he means, Brother,” Sûlrandír answered.

“Please, do not stand so close to one another,” Fëaluin said. “Any one of you.”

“Sorry, Ada,” Elenatar said as the stepped away aside. From behind them Êlenuil stepped forward and bowed reverently.

“Êlenuil,” Ardôr said.

“Yes, Ada,” he said. “I have returned to fight beside my brother and my king.”

Elranduil looked at me—a smile slowly crossing his face as he attempted to conceal it from everyone. I came from my place and stood before Êlenuil. I looked at him and thought of his children sleeping in their room not far from mine. I was proud of him but could not find the words.

“Then you will ride with your brother,” I said.

He smiled and bowed and went to his father and brother happily.

I motioned for Tatháron to come. He came quickly.

“You know what I will ask of you,” I whispered. “Do it quickly.”

He bowed and left quickly.

“Where have you sent Tatháron,”  Fëaluin asked quietly.

“To fetch something for Êlenuil,” I said. “He will need it far more than I will.”

I looked around the room the elves in my presence. I knew them all since my youth and others since I became king. As they spoke among themselves, I thought about things my father had told me. I had seen so much—through part of one age and nearly all of another. I knew then I would return home again one last time from the field of battle.

“Let us not tarry any longer,” I said. “As I speak an army of orcs march toward our gates. They are not the first but they will be the last. Tarthôn, I would like a word with you. Everyone else to your place.”

As the room emptied, Tarthôn stood before me.

“Yes, Ada,” he asked. “What did you wish to say to me?”

“I wished to say that you will see me again,” I said. “When I ride to you toward Dol Guldur.”

“I know,” he said. “And I will fight beside you as my father before me. I look forward to that moment.”

“I look forward to the moment you return home to your family,” I said. “Should I not return, it is you that should welcome your brother home in my place.”

“No,” he said.

“Do as I ask, Tarthôn,” I said.

“No,” he said. “I will not do what you will be able to do on your own. You will return home. You always have and you always will. When we return, we can both be here to welcome Legolas home.”

I embraced him tighter than I had before as I felt tears come to my eyes. I had no words that could express the pride I felt for Tarthôn in that moment. I remembered the first time I held him as an infant and every moment thereafter but none as powerful as that moment. I did not want to let him go, but I did slowly.

“I will see you soon,” he said as he bowed. “Until then, Namárië.”

He turned and left quickly. I stood alone waiting for my servants to bring my armor. When the door opened again it was Êlenuil.

“Yes, Êlenuil,” I said.

“How are my children,” he asked softly. “I wanted to know before I went into battle.”

“You know where they sleep,” I said. “Why not go to them. I am sure they would want to see you. I know you want to see them.”

“Let them sleep,” he said. “I just want to know how they are.”

“They are very well,” I said. “They are growing quickly as children will.”

“Should I live, I will return to Mithlond, Thranduil,” he began. “I still carry her memory in my mind and I am afraid my children will make it worse.”

“You wish me to pretend I never saw you this day or any other,” I asked. “You do not want your children to know you fought valiantly for them and this kingdom?”

“No,” he said. “I know you, Thranduil. You will speak of it to them no matter what I ask. It is not in your nature to keep anything from anyone.”

“I keep many things to myself,” I answered. “It is just never the truth.”

“I ask this because I know I will see them again,” he said. “But not in this world. This world has taken from me many things I do not care to remember.”

“It has for me as well, Êlenuil,” I answered. “Many things I have lost and do not care to remember. But I do remember. I have to remember because should I forget, I will not know what I am fighting to keep. This world has taken my father, my friends and more of my people than I can count. But it also has given me my father, my friends and my people. I lived with them and loved them and they gave me strength to live long after they were gone. You have everything to lose for your fear of remembering what you lost rather than what you have left.”

“I am not as strong as you,” he said. “You are the great Thranduil. They speak of you beyond these borders with such fervor. There is no one quite like you in all of Arda. Not among elven nor men nor dwarves. There will never be a star that will rise or fall brighter than you. Not even the Everstar. All I ask is you not tell Nenduîl and Tárimë I was not here so that they can remember the father that left them never to return.”

“You told them you would never return, did you not,” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“I will not tell them that I saw you or even said your name,” I began. “But if I grant you that request, then you will grant me one as well.”

“Anything,” he said.

“You will not leave this world without your children.”

He stared at me—his eyes filled with tears that did not fall until that moment. I knew he could not refuse my request—not one given by his king.

“When the time comes, I will send them to Mithlond and then you will sail with them into Aman. Do I have your word?”

He nodded slowly as the doors opened again with my servants carrying my armor.

“I will see you at Dol Guldur,” I said. “Go see Tatháron. He has something for you.”

He bowed and left as Fëaluin, Eldôr, Elranduil and Nimlos returned while I was being dressed. Eldôr was in his armor as he always had been before a battle. “I know better than to ask why Êlenuil left in fear for his life,” Elranduil said. “He will tell Ardúin and I will hear it eventually.”

“Sîrandor, Sîrandír, Sílrandor and Sûlrandír will join the palace guard and will stay behind with me,” Fëaluin said as he rolled scrolls together quickly. “Please return quickly. I love my grandsons very much but I can only be around them for so long before I will lose what sanity I have left.”

“I will return for you as soon as I can then,” I answered. “I cannot have the head of my council lose what sanity he has left.”

“Or what he was born with,” Elranduil said to himself.

“Elranduil,” Eldôr said.

Nimlos laughed as he stood before me.

“So here we are again,” he said. “Off to fight another battle. I must say, I never thought I would enjoy fighting beside you but that was before I got to know you.”

“You mean before you got to know Elranduil,” I said.

“Thranduil,” Eldôr said looking over a scroll.

“At least I can hit a moving target with an arrow,” Elranduil said as servants began to dress him and Nimlos.

“The trees never fared well with Thranduil around,” Fëaluin said handing off a scroll to a guard.

“Fëaluin,” Eldôr began. “This is why I returned. None of you have changed since you were children.”

“Thranduil has,” Elranduil said. “He has gotten taller.”

Nimlos and Fëaluin laughed as Elmîr entered.

“Yes, Elmîr,” I said as servants began to leave one by one after finishing their task.

“Aradin has taken the north side of the river,” he said. “Father and I will remain with you from here to Dol Guldur. Aramír, Aramoth, Findôl, and Sildôr will take North, South, East and West. Nînuir has accompanied Tarthôn and the others to Dol Guldur. Eldúir will stay to defend the palace.  Árelë sent word of a force of Easterlings seen moving toward Dale from the south. Better cover ourselves on all sides.”

“Thank you, Elmîr,” I said.

We stood in silence as the last of the servants left and we stood dressed in our armor looking at one another. I took a deep breath.

“Look after my children until I return, Fëaluin,” I said. “Look after Êlúriel.”

“Yes, Thranduil,” he said.

“Once more,” I said. “Let us fight once more.”

Eldôr, Elranduil, Nimlos and Elmîr followed me out of my study and into the hall toward the main gates. As they opened for us, I could see that dawn had not yet come. We walked into the darkness—the air still crisp and cool and not yet filled with the rancid stench of orcs but the sound of their feet had begun to shake the earth beneath our feet. We would take them face-to-face and ride later to Dol Guldur. Armored elven warriors stood prepared to fight again. 

We took our positions at the furthest distance west of the bridge and waited for darkness to fade into the light of day. We waited patiently for our first battle during the War of the Ring to begin.

The dawn seemed to come slowly but the anticipation had risen before with the sounds of orcs marching through the forest—their monstrous feet crushing the earth beneath them.  I nodded and Elranduil and Eldôr to take position. We planned to surround them and kill all that dared to march upon Mirkwood. I could hear the faint sound of the archers pulling their bowstrings from across the Forest River.

As the sun’s first light, the glamhoth broke through the trees. Arrows flew through the air as our two armies began fighting fiercely. No sooner had I put down one, another appeared in his place. For hours there was nothing but the sound of metal clashing and battle cries until silence had fallen. I stood wading in the corpses of orcs—not one elf did I see. I began to worry that I was the last to survive.

“It is done,” I heard a distant voice say. “Decidedly so, Father.”

I looked to see Elranduil and Eldôr approaching—their armor covered in orc blood.

“Do not think this is over,” Eldôr said.

“Nimlos,” I cried. “Where are you?”

I looked in every direction and saw only figures shrouded in the mists of dusk. I began to fear the worst as I fell to my knees and started pushing the dead aside in a futile search.

“Thranduil,” a voice said. “What are you doing?” It was Elranduil standing with Elmîr.

“I am looking for Nimlos,” I said frantically.

“Why would I be down there,” Nimlos asked.

I quickly turned to see him standing at my right beside Sildúr. I sighed deeply as I rose to my feet.

“I thought you had fallen,” I said.

“When that day comes, I will tell you,” Nimlos said smiling.

“How did we fare, Father,” Elmîr asked.

“Very well,” Sildúr answered. “There are wounded but none shall die.”

I sheathed my sword and wearily headed for the palace. At the end of the bridge, I saw the gates open—the last thing I remember before I fainted.

It was night when I returned to consciousness. I was laying on my bed my chest in pain, dressed tightly around me.

“How are you feeling,” I heard Fëaluin say from across the room.

“He will live,” Êlúriel said as she stroked my hair.

“What happened,” I asked.

“You were victorious,” he said. “As to be expected. I noticed you were missing a piece of your armor. That would explain your wound. It was not deep but you lost enough blood to faint.”

“I gave my mithril to Êlenuil,” I said slowly sitting upright. “He needed it far more than me.”

He walked to the foot of the bed and stood looking at me—his face lost in thought.

“I thought you did something of the sort,” he said. “You are just like Oropher.”

“How do you mean, Fëaluin,” I asked. “How am I like my father?”

“He gave his to you so long ago,” he said. “The difference is you survived to see another day but even Oropher would not have been surprised. You are a worthy warrior.”

“I almost died,” I said, my thoughts trapped in the past. “I could have died.”

“You did not die and you will not die, I am sure of it.”

“He will never die,” Êlúriel said. “He is too stubborn.”

He walked to the door and paused for a moment.

“Do you feel well enough to receive company,” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “Who calls for me?”

He smiled and tapped the doors. One cracked open enough for Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin to slip inside.

“You are alive,” Tárimë said happily as she and brother ran to embrace me.

I winced in pain as Fëaluin smiled and left us with the children.

“Yes, I am, Tárimë,” I said. “But do be careful.”

“Very careful, children,” Êlúriel said. “He is wounded.”

“You came back as you said,” Nenduîl said, climbing on the bed with his sister. “I knew you would return.”

“You did not,” Tárimë said. “You spent the day crying like a little child. I told you he would return but you did not believe me.”

“I did not cry,” he said quietly. “That was Aranduil.”

“Was not,” she said.

“You are not died,” Eärluin said, poking me.

“It does not matter now,” I said trying hard not to laugh. “I am here now and it is late. Time for bed.”

“Can we stay with you, Ada,” Tárimë asked sweetly. “We can look after you.”

“Your Ada needs his rest,” Êlúriel said. “You may see him tomorrow.” 

“Yes, Nana” they said sadly, hanging their little heads as they climbed down from the bed and walked slowly to the door.

“They can stay for a little while,” I whispered to Êlúriel.

“Are you not afraid to wake up and have their husbands and wife between us,” she whispered back. “You may stay for a little while.”

The children turned around and excitedly returned and curled up around me.

“Wake us up should you need to,” Nenduîl said in a commanding tone. “And we will ring the servants for you.” 

They had made up their minds and started to nestle on either side of me. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched them fall asleep. I closed my eyes for moment thinking about all that had happened. I looked at Êlúriel sitting on the bed next to Tárimë, smiling at me.

“Êlúriel, I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you more, Thranduil,” she said.

“That is not possible,” I said.

She leaned over and kissed me again.

“Welcome home,” she said.

“It is good to be home,” I said. “Very good.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-20-17

Actual battle. Thranduil gives his mithril to Êlenuil who returned to fight for his king and his kingdom and beside his brother Elendôr. He brought with him the nightmare cousins: Sílrandor and Súlrandír and their cousins Sîrandor and Sîrandír. Yeah, I won’t go into it. Thranduil is wounded but lives and learns his father gave him his own mithril to save his life at Dagorlad. He’s happily reunited with his littlest children and Êlúriel.