Jaynaé Marie

Chapter XXIII: (EXT) Êlenuil Everstar (Pt. I)

Beneath the waning sky of coming night

Far away shines a distant light

One whose rise tells of days gone by

Of all of elven memories lie.

“When dawn had risen, I was in my study watching the falls and listening to the roar of the waters. I knew that Arímë and Haldúir had already left for Dale as I prepared for the day.

“Thranduil,” I heard my name called. “May I have a word.”

“Yes, Êlenuil,” I answered. “Speak.”

“They have departed,” he said. “Súlelenth’s parents.”

“And you saw them away,” I asked.

“Yes. So did Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin. They seemed sad to see them leave. They had just begun to know them. Perhaps they should see them again some time.”

“No,” I answered, turning around. “Never will they see them again. I will never see them again.”

“Nor will I,” he said softly. “I wish to leave for Mithlond at the end of the day.” “With whom will you travel,” I asked. “Your father? Your brother?”

“Alone.”

“You would leave your children with me then travel so far a distance alone, Êlenuil? Do you know the dangers you could face?”

“I know,” he said. “But I travel alone as far as Rivendell.”

I looked at him curiously, but did not inquire about what he meant.

“Have you spoken to your children,” I asked.

“I have,” he said. “I am afraid Nenduîl is angry with me. He does not believe that I love him. Tárimë seems wise beyond her years and said not a word. Eärluin does not understand.”

“She is young,” I said. “Nenduîl will recover in time. Tárimë is much like Êlúriel. She sees a great many things. Perhaps she knows your heart better than you.”

“Just like her mother,” he said. “You believe me when I say I will miss them, Thranduil?”

“Yes, I do,” I answered. “I know why you leave. I wish I could have left after I lost my father but I did not have the choice you have. I was heir to the throne. No one but me could sit on that throne. Not even your grandfather. I was the son of Oropher, King of Eryn Galen. I was born to rule this kingdom. He was its first king and I will be its last. I have ruled this kingdom for nearly three thousand years. Should I leave, I will leave as the last elven king in all of Arda, for there will never again rule another elven king in this world. I find solace in this because I have lived through many perils and though I often lost hope, I never lost my strength. In that strength, hope did arise. Whether I see you again, I do not know, but you will see your children again. I want them alone to see my mother and tell her that her son remains on the throne of his father.”

He bowed and left me alone once more. I thought about my own words for a moment. How far I had come in my life and how much I had lost and gained over time that passed so quickly for elves yet for other creatures, many generations since I came to the throne had passed and all that I known to be true was legend to them. To me, it had started to become something of a myth. My life was the only relic that was left as evidence of the truth.

When dusk had begun to fall, I stood with the court and the Princes of the Woodland Realm to see Êlenuil on his way. At my side stood Êlúriel and his children with the rest of our family. As he rode westward, the violet hues of the coming night began to uncover the stars above. Though the Misty Mountains obscured much of the sky, the unmistakable evening star in the west shone brightly as another was rising in the East with the moon.

Watching Êlenuil riding away took me back to the day I watched my mother leave our kingdom forever. I wondered when I would take my final journey to Mithlond and sail away to the Undying Lands. Many elves had begun taking their final journey since the flames of Mordor had risen again. My kingdom once again looked as a desolate wasteland—hollow and void of color. Autumn had come as cold as winter and the world felt the chill of evil looming.

Once inside my study, I began to read many things left to me by my father. I searched for anything that might bring some light to darkness. As long as I had lived, never had I known such evil—far stronger than what I had fought at Dagorlad. I thought of Legolas going into the world to fight what men, elves and dwarves once tried to destroy. To lose my son would put me in the ground beside my father. I found a dreadful peace in that thought and it frightened me. If thoughts of death were more inviting than life, then the world was far darker than it ever had been.

As I sat alone reading into the night, the door opened and Nenduîl came in. It was unusual to see him without his sister—they were extraordinarily close and had grown closer since their mother died.

“Why are you out of your chambers so late,” I asked barely looking away from my reading.

“I could not sleep,” he said. “I miss Nana.”

“You do not miss your father,” I asked.

“I cannot say for certain,” he answered stopping in the light of the candles on my table. “I am afraid I do not know him well at all.”

I put down my papers and looked at Nenduîl—his young face serious in thought like an old man remembering the past.

“You have known him since birth,” I answered curiously. “How can you not know him well?”

“Well, I meant to say, not as well as you,” he said. “And not as well I should have.”

“Come here,” I said. He walked to me and placed him on my lap. “Your father loves you very much, Nenduîl. He is very sad without your mother. That is why he went away.”

“I know,” he said. “He said he loved us, but I do not understand why he left us if that were true.”

“I wish I could tell you why,” I said. “I cannot know what was in his mind, but I am quite sure you, your sisters and your mother are in his heart.”

“You will not leave us, will you,” he asked.

“No,” I answered. “I will not leave you, Tárimë or Eärluin. Neither will Êlúriel. We are waiting for Legolas to return home. Then we will all be together again.”

“He will come back,” he said. “I know he will.”

“How are you so sure, Nenduîl,” I asked. “Did he tell you this?”

“No,” he said. “Nana told me.”

“Your Nana told you,” I asked.

“No,” he answered. “His Nana. She said she was our Nana, too.”

“The queen said this,” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “She said she was our Nana now.”

“When did she say this,” I asked curiously.

“When Tárimë asked her,” he said. “She said we could call her Nana. Does that mean you are our Ada now?”

Before I could say another word, Êlúriel entered the room.

“There you are, Nenduîl,” she said. “Back to bed before your sister knows you have left.”

He looked at me and embraced me.

“Will I see you tomorrow,” he asked.

“Yes, Nenduîl. You will see me tomorrow.”

He climbed down and ran out of my study.

“What is this look you have, Thranduil,” Êlúriel asked. “Is something the matter?”

“Nenduîl says you are his Nana now,” I said slowly. “Did you tell them they could call you Nana?”

“Tárimë asked it of me,” she began. “She heard Eärluin call me ‘Nana’.”  

“He wants to know if I am his Ada now,” I muttered.

“Thranduil,” she began. “Do not be angry.”

“You wish that we replace their parents,” I said, my voice growing louder.

“Of course not,” she said. “That would be impossible.”

“That would be implausible,” I said. “They should not be allowed to forget to whom they belong.”

“They do not wish to forget, Thranduil,” she began. “They want to feel they belong to a family again.”

“Is it not enough for you that Eärluin calls you ’Nana’,” I asked angrily. “Did it ever occur to you that I do not wish to be an ‘Ada’ again?”

I knew I should not have said that. I rose from my chair but it was too late—Êlúriel was in tears as she ran from my study in anguish. Before I could go after her, Fëaluin entered.

“What did you say this time,” he asked.

“You do not want to know,” I said. “It was wrong of me to say.”

“I can hardly imagine you saying anything wrong,” he said.

“I might have said I did not wish to be an ‘Ada’ again.”

He stood there with a disapproving look that made me uncomfortable.

“I did not mean it, Fëaluin,” I said softly. “I should go after her.”

“Unless you wish to spend your nights in your study alone until the queen wants to see you again.”

I looked at him for a moment; my mind frozen in thought. Suddenly, I ran swiftly into the hall and into Eldôr.

“Hello, uncle,” I said. “Pardon me.”

“She is in your chambers,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said and started in that direction. When I approached our doors, I noticed Eärluin sitting alone in the hall—her face contorted as if she were about to cry.

“Why are you alone in the hall,” I asked her as I picked her up. “It is late, Eärluin, far too late for you to be out of bed.”

“No,” she said. “I was looking for you, Ada.”

“Why were you looking for me,” I asked.

“To tuck me in, please,” she said playing with a lock of my hair.

“Did Linurial tuck you in already tonight,” I asked.

“Yes,” she said as she started to cry. “But I want you to do it, Ada.”

“Do not cry, Eärluin,” is said, walking toward the room she shared with Auríel. “I will tuck you in. Ada will tuck you in.”

When their doors opened, I entered quietly. Auríel was fast asleep; tightly holding on to her doll. Once I put Eärluin in her bed and tucked her in. She smiled.

“Everything is fine now,” I whispered. “Now Eärluin can go to sleep.”

“Yes,” she said. “So can Ada and Nana.”

She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me cheek. As she curled up and went to sleep, I walked into the hall.

“You are unrelenting, Êlúriel,” I said.

“Before you say another word,” she said walking to me from across the hall. “I had nothing to do with it. Linurial told me Eärluin had gone missing and we went looking for her.”

I gave Êlúriel my best look of skepticism.

“You do not believe me,” she asked.

“Eärluin said she can sleep now,” I began mockingly. “So can Ada and Nana.”

She laughed softly.

“Did she,” she asked.

“She did,” I said, as I leaned in and kissed her. “You had nothing to do with it?”

“No,” she whispered. “Nothing.”

We kissed again—forgetting the world around us.

“You, my dear, are a terrible liar,” I whispered.

“I am not,” she said smiling.

I smiled at her and made my way down the hall toward our room.

Days had passed since I had spoken to Êlúriel and I had begun to put it out of my mind. The world had become unnaturally quiet—it was nearly too peaceful. My thoughts again turned to Legolas far away from home. I wondered if he was safe—away from all the dangers the world knew would come. Darkness had risen from Dol Guldur once more—far darker than before biding its time to strike.

Sildôr, Findôl, Aramír and Aramoth commanded Marchwardens to guard all corners of the kingdom from all directions. Findôl and Sildôr, returned to council with Târuil, son of Findôl to join as a younger generation of elves had replaced the elder guard. I kept all that I had known all my life close to me. Perhaps in fear of the unknown or because of what I knew, it brought some familiarity where I thought it lost to me.

I stood in my throne room alone looking over several maps of the Rhovanion, wondering when or where evil may come again when Findôl came to me with his brother and son. Târuil had grown into a striking elf, with long golden red hair deep blue eyes.

“Where is the queen,” Findôl asked.

“She is with Isílriel and the children,” I said. “What word do you bring to me from the borders?”

“Nothing,” Findôl said. “All is quiet. Save for a few creatures wandering about.” “In the east it always quiet,” Sildôr answered. “Not since the Battle of Dale have your guard had to worry. The western borders are a different matter altogether.”

“What is the matter,” I asked. “Have you heard from Beorn?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Târuil said softly. Not at all. But there were rumors passing of rumblings from the Misty Mountains coming forth from the direction of Khazâd-dûm.”

“What sort of rumblings,” I asked curiously. “Why would there be rumblings?”

“I could not say for sure,” he said. “But Randúmîr says that something lives there. As it was told to him by Aiwendil.”

“From Aiwendil,” I asked. “How fortunate we are to have Aiwendil hear something more than the twittering of birds. Enlighten me, please.”

“He suspects there may be any number of horrible creatures dwelling there,” Fëaluin said walking toward us with Eldôr and Elranduil. “I suspect orcs or trolls or something. But from what I gather, the quaking is far too great for even a horde of them.”

“It might be a Valarauko,” Eldôr said calmly. “Left behind after the Great Battle. They still linger, though not in great number. Aiwendil would know quite well if that what rumbles through the darkness. They were once the same.”

“You have to wonder if that led Thráin to Erebor,” Elranduil said. “Perhaps it is why the others were never seen again.”

“Balin,” Fëaluin said, peering at one of the maps. “Yes, I recall several dwarves passing this way not long after King Dáin had resettled Erebor. He was from the House of Durin, I believe. Cousin to Thorin Oakenshield. I am quite sure the did not fare well at all if such things reside within the mountains.”

“Whatever is there does not make Dol Guldur look any less frightening,” I said. “Though what remains from what left returned to Mordor.”

“Not every evil comes from Mordor,” Fëaluin said looking solemn. “Something makes waste of Angrenost and has for some time.”

“Curunír,” Eldôr whispered. “Of all to follow Gorthaur under the spell of Morgoth. This is a shadow not to be reckoned with nor an evil to underestimate.”

“How far below the earth can we dwell,” I asked. “We can go no further to save ourselves. We will have to fight as everyone in Arda. There is no haven left to hide.”

“We are safe for now,” Fëaluin said. “This is the quiet before the storm and we should be glad for it as war will find us soon enough.”

“I wish to send Ardúin away, but she refused to leave me,” Elranduil said.

“She is stubborn,” Aradin said walking over with Elmîr, Nînuir, Eldúir and Sildúr. “Just like her mother.”

“And her sister,” Fëaluin said smiling.

“Mother is like her sisters,” Târuil laughed. “But perhaps they can be persuaded.

“I do not think that is possible,” I said. “They have fallen in love, I am afraid.”  

“Of course,” Elranduil said. “There is not a lady in court that does not love Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin. Even I find them somewhat tolerable.”

Eldôr poked Elranduil in the arm and glared at him.

“We must protect all of our children now,” I said. “I only my household to protect as Legolas is gone to save us all. Where is Tarthôn?”

“Here, Ada,” I heard him say walking toward me with Orísil, Ardôr and Aruilos. “I apologize for being absent.”

“It is fine,” I said. “So long as you are safe.”

“Not all of us,” Ardôr said. “One has fallen.”

“Aruilos,” Fëaluin asked in fear. “Is it your father?”

“No,” he answered. “He comes along with your sons.”

No sooner had he spoke did Nimlos come inside with Elenadar and Elenatar caring badly wounded Randúmîr. Behind them were Sîrandír and Sîrandor, the twin sons of Elenadar. Both had the long brown hair and silver blue eyes.

“Call for Arnîn,” Nimlos said.

“Will he survive,” Elmîr asked. “My niece will fall into despair if he were to die.”

“He will live,” Nimlos said. “But he may have lost some of his Marchwardens.” “What happened,” I asked as Arnîn came running to her husband with Linurial and Nimlúin.

“They were attacked,” Sîrandír answered.

“Orcs, again,” I asked.

“No,” Sîrandor quickly answered. “Easterlings. They were not many, but they were formidable.”

“Were you there,” I asked.

“Yes,” Sîrandír answered. “They were moving eastward from the direction of Dol Guldur. Why they were this far North, I do not know.”

“Call for my sons,” Elenadar said to Sîrandor. “I do not want them out there any longer.”

“Yes, Uncle,” he said and made his way out of the main gate.

“Take Randúmîr to his chambers,” Fëaluin said. “No need to have the court to see.”

Through the main gates came Aramír and Aramoth with Sîrandor followed by Sûlrandír and his twin brother, Sílrandor, the sons of Elenatar. Sîrandír ran to meet them. It was hard to tell between the two—even more so whenever they were with their twin cousins—their long golden brown hair and eyes as the color of mists of dusk their only discernible feature.

“It is over,” Aramoth said. “They have gone from our borders.”

“We did not lose anyone, Thranduil,” Aramír said. “But they are wounded badly. The rest are with Tatháron. If you will excuse me, I must see about daughter’s husband.”

I nodded as he and his brother made their way in the direction they carried Randúmîr. Nimlos stayed to speak with Aruilos.

“How long they will stay away,” Sûlrandír asked. “You think they will return, brother?”

“No,” Sílrandor answered. “They have Dale in their sights. But there are plenty of orcs.”

“Were you harmed,” Sîrandír asked. “You seem well.”

“As we are, brother,” Sîrandor said. “You look unharmed, Sûlrandír.”

“I am fine, Sîrandor,” he answered. Though Sílrandor had a rough time of it, did you not, brother?”

“I did not, Sûlrandír,” he scoffed. “That was you and Sîrandír having a rough time of it.“

“Please,” Fëaluin said to them. “Do not stand so close to one another. You know I cannot tell any of you apart.”

The four cousins stepped away from each other slowly.

“Sorry, Grandfather,” they said together.

“You are to blame, Fëaluin” I whispered. “You had to have twin sons that had twin sons.”

He glared at me and muttered something under his breath. I knew war was coming and evil would rise again, but in that moment I found myself trying desperately not to laugh.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-17-17

Where to start: Thranduil speaks with Êlenuil who leaves for the Undying Lands alone without his children. Thranduil learns from Nenduîl that he calls Êlúriel “nana”. Thranduil upset his wife and on his way to apologize, runs into Eärluin who wants “Ada” to tuck her in. Feeling played, he has a moment with his wife. Not long after, Thranduil is told of rumblings coming from Khazâd-dûm (Moria). Told to his Marchwardens by Aiwendil (Radagast), it is suspected to be a Valarauko (Balrog). They speak of Curunír (Saruman) laying waste to Angrenost (The Ring of Isengard) and talk about Gorthaur (Sauron) and Morgoth (Melkor). Guards enter with the wounded by Easterlings in the south on their way to Erebor and Dale (The Second Battle of Dale that will happen soon) and minor confusion occurs when Fëaluin has to deal with his two sets of identical twin grandsons by his twin sons Elenadar and Elenatar: Sîrandír and Sîrandor, sons of Elenadar and Súlrandír and Sílrandor, sons of Elenatar. Great time to check out that Appendix if you have it. If you don’t, one is coming. ☺️