#aurewyn and bard

[extendedtkwrtrilogyend]

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

Images: ©2012, 2013, 2014. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: The Unexpected Journey, The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug, The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies. All Rights Reserved.

[tkwrtrilogy2]

Chapter V: The Fall of Dol Guldur (Pt. IV)

“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 grandfather learned it from his brother’s wife.”

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

“I know,” she said. “My grandfather spoke of it often. He was proud to have an Elda in the family. He died when I was very young.”

“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 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.”

“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 an Nenduîl and Tárimë.”

I turned away and walked with Fëaluin through the gardens and to our quarters in the palace.

**** **** **** ****

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 Majesty.”

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

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 rode away beside 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 and Tárimë to come running to me.

“Ada,” they said embracing me.

“You are home,” Tárimë said.

“Yes, I am,” I said. “Were you good?”

“I was,” Nenduîl said.

“So was I,” Tárimë said.

Looking at Eldôr’s expression, I was tempted to think otherwise.

“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 into the palace with Fëaluin.

“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 they 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.”--Excerpt from TKWR Book III: To Eryn Lasgalen by J.M.Miller 01-22-17

Images: ©2012, 2013, 2014. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: The Unexpected Journey, The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug, The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies. All Rights Reserved.

[tkwrtrilogy2]

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

“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. “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 and your 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.”

“That is because you are just awful,” his sister said. “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 is elsewhere.”

“Nenduîl.”

“What,” he asked. “I like my sister. 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?”

“Yes, Ada” Tárimë said. We like him. He 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.

“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.

“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.”

“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.

“Of course, I would come, Dwalin,” I said. “How could I not come?”

“Dale welcomes you,” 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 His Majesty, King of Mirkwood.”

“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.”

Several men took our horses and we followed the group toward the grand gates 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,” 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 the name of your father’s father’s uncle, 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 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. The cousin of my beloved Êlúriel. 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. I watched as the day fell 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 my 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 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 she told us her story.”

“No, she doesn’t,” 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. Looking into the shadow of Erebor, all I wished to do was return home.”--Excerpt from TKWR Book III: To Eryn Lasgalen by J.M.Miller 01-04-17

Images: ©2012, 2013, 2014. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: The Unexpected Journey, The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug, The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies. All Rights Reserved.

[iamjaynaemarie]

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 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

Images: ©2012, 2013, 2014. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: The Unexpected Journey, The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug, The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies. All Rights Reserved.