#elranduil and arduin

[extendedtkwrtrilogyend]

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.

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

In the twilight of the coming day, I saw that the elven troops had surrounded the garrison of Dol Guldur. The orcs would use their height to rain arrows down upon us. Aradin had positioned archers a distance away and as high as the crumbling remains of the walls of Dol Guldur. Surrounding Celeborn and Me were shields to deflect arrows away from troops at the slope. At the first ray of light, arrows fell from above and over us. I glanced at Celeborn and he nodded.

“Noro, thî,” he shouted and hundreds of elven warriors ran straight toward the ruins from which orcs ran to meet them in battle. 

We rode into the fray together—into a fury that created its own winds with the blood of the slaughtered blowing in the air. I swung my sword until the pain was nearly unbearable when all of sudden everything stopped abruptly. I looked around me—not one elf nor one orc moved. They were looking to the south toward Mordor.

Friend and foe stood together watching what seemed out of place to us. We felt the earth rumbling and rolling as a wave on the sea. Orodruin seemed to turn from orange to red then fade to black. Only puffs of dark clouds erupted from it—eventually fading into daylight.

“It is done,” I heard Eldôr say to me. “It is finally done.”

“Perhaps,” Celeborn said. “But what there is left, we must destroy.”

As nothing had happened, the battle continued well into dusk when we found we stood amidst the corpses of orcs and some elves. I began to worry once more—my heart beating so loudly I heard not a word.

“Thranduil,” I heard.

I looked up to see Elranduil with Nimlos and Ardôr, Orísil and Tarthôn. I felt some comfort when I saw Eldôr speaking with Celeborn and Galathil.

“Where is Êlenuil,” I asked. “And his brother Elendôr?

“There,” Elranduil pointed. 

I looked to see them alive and well, speaking with Aruilos, Elmîr and Fëaluin. When I saw Isílion and Tárion with Haldir, Orophin and Rúmil, I knew our loses were very few. It took me some time to reach land unsoiled by death. When I found my footing night had begun to fall.

“We can rest,” Galathil said. “For the first time, we can rest. The ring has been destroyed.”

“We will return to Mirkwood tomorrow,” I said. “Victorious.”

I went to my tent for the first time feeling thousands of years of darkness no longer weighing down the night as the stars seemed to shine brighter than they have since I was a youth.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-22-17

Images: ©2001, 2002, 2003. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. All Rights Reserved.

[tkwrtrilogy]

Chapter II: Passing of Seasons (Part II)

“A full moon lit the night with an unyielding light that seemed to dim the stars. Several of my friends sat together beneath a birch in the garden. The paths were lit by flickering lanterns as we watched Elranduil with Ardúin from a distance.

“I wonder if he will steal a kiss tonight,” Fëaluin asked. “That would mean she was his forever.”

“That would make me ill,” I said. “I would rather watch Aramír and Aramoth argue.”

“We do not argue,” Aramoth said. “Aramír cannot stand it when I am right.”

Aramír sneered at his brother but said nothing. Melros and Fínduin laughed as we continued to watch my cousin.

“What is it like, Elmîr,” Melros asked. “You are as Elranduil. In love with Aryávë. I would think it would look much like Elranduil and Ardúin.”

“He asks because he has his eye on Arandil,” I said. I was beginning to grow annoyed with their preoccupation with love.

“Perhaps,” Melros said. “But at least I have an eye somewhere, Thranduil. Where will yours fall one day? You are heir to the throne and you will have to find a wife.”

“He has turned away nearly every elleth in the kingdom,” Aramír said. “I do not think there are any left for him.”

“Then I think it best,” I said angrily. “I do not see a need for such utter nonsense. What is it that you find so wonderful in wandering around with the look of a frightened animal all day over a maiden? I do not find any need for it.”

“Love,” Elmîr said definitively. “It is love. Though I think only Melros looks like a frightened animal in love. I have not seen anyone else appear that way.”

Everyone but Melros began to laugh. As we were teasing, we seemed to look toward Elranduil and Ardúin. They were kissing.

“I knew it,” Fínduin said smiling. “It was bound to happen one day.”

“Where have you been, Fínduin,” Aramoth asked. “I have seen them do that before. Quite often actually. Out of the sight of Eldôr most certainly. He is rather overwrought over the pairing.”

“Why would that bother him,” Elmîr asked. “I think Ardúin beautiful. Her father seems fond of Elranduil.”

“Of course he would,” Aramoth said. “Aradin gains much having his daughter marry a prince of Eryn Galen.”

“It is not Eldôr that finds issue with this match,” I said. “It is my father. As king he will have to give his blessing. Ardúin is a Noldor, you realize. Father does not care for any elves other than Sindar. If not for mother, he would not have much tolerance for the Silvan. But that was long ago.”

“King Oropher will not let you marry anyone but a Sindar,” Fëaluin said to me. “You are heir to the throne.”

“I am not ready to marry anyone,” I said. “Much less fall in love. I have little patience for such things.” As I spoke, I could see Elranduil walking toward us with a smile on his face—Ardúin no longer in view as she had taken her leave.

“I think Elranduil is in love,” Melros said. “With Ardúin. Are we to expect a wedding?”

“One day,” Elranduil said as he sat next to me. “We are not of age, I am afraid. But when that day comes, you can be sure I will ask Ardúin’s hand. I can think of no other.”

“I know,” I said. “I can hear of no other.”

“You must forgive Thranduil,” he began sheepishly. “He does not believe this will ever happen to him. I fear for him.”

“Fear for me,” I said angrily. “What is there to fear for me? I do walk around as a fool looking as though I were dumbfounded! I would end up walking into someone or something.”

“Thranduil, why so angry about this,” Elmîr asked. “It is something that happens to us all. At some time or another. What of love finds you disturbed?”

“I cannot explain it in words any of you would understand,” I said as I stood up and walked out of the gathering. I turned and looked at my friends. They were changing. They were becoming apart of another world and leaving me far behind. I felt alone. 

“I will never be as any of you. Not anymore for you are much changed. It is like I do not know you as I once had.”

I ran away quickly up the staircase to the upper colonnade, nearly into Sildôr and Findôl.

“Thranduil,” Findôl called. “Are you well?”

I did not answer. I wanted to be alone—far away from them and from the inevitable coming of age. When I was in the great hall, I saw my mother and father. They heard my footsteps and turned towards me.

“I tell by your face you are not happy, Thranduil,” my mother said. “Come.”

I reluctantly and as slowly as I could went before her.

“Has Elranduil been teasing you again,” father said. “I will have a word with him.”

“No, Father,” I said. “No more than usual. I am just rather exhausted from the day.”

“I know you let Aryávë go to Elmîr,” mother said. “I am proud of you. However, I know it is this that bothers you. If not for any other reason than you do not want to do this. Perhaps you still too young.”

“I am not too young, Mother. I just do not see why I must find someone. What if I never find anyone?”

“Of course you will, son,” father said assuredly. “You are a fine looking elf. Finding one worthy of you and this kingdom may take time, but I am quite sure it will happen.”

Mother gave him a stern look.

“Oropher, do you not have somewhere to be just now,” she asked. “I believe Eldôr awaits you in your study.”

“Nimeithel,” he began. “Stop treating me as if I know nothing of love. You married me, did you not?”

“Yes, my beloved,” she said. “There is not a day that goes by that I do not remember that glorious day and cry.”

Father gave her a weak smile and walked toward his study.

“Son,” she said turning back to me. “Do not let such things bother you. For good or for worse. It is not your time, but it will come. You think you do not want this but it will happen. There lives not a creature in this world that love does not touch.”

“Yes, Mother,” I agreed. I had yet to be convinced of this otherwise but my mother never failed to bring me some joy. “I suppose you love father?”

“With all my heart,” she said smiling. “From the moment I saw him.”

“But you are both always at odds,” I said confused. “I do not understand.”

“I know, Thranduil. You will not know until you are married. We are not at odds with one another. I must remind him from time to time that I am right.”

“All the time it would seem,” I said.

“Yes,” she said smiling. “But worry not of it. Take your rest, my dearest. You will feel far better at sunrise.”

She kissed my cheek and sent me on my way as she had done since I was a child. I felt better but quite confused. What was love and what was it to look like for me. Between my friends and my parents I began to feel a hit of fear over what they all called the inevitable.”--Excerpt from the KWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil by J.M.Miller 1-8-15

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.

[extendedtkwrtrilogyend]

Chapter XXII (EXT): The Death of Súlelenth (Part I)

“Legolas was gone—the son I tried desperately to protect from the world was now in that world vowing to save it from the shadow that had returned. I spent the days after his departure tortured with thoughts of losing him in many ways. It was not until Tarthôn and Aruilos returned from Rivendell safely did I find peace.

As I stood with Êlúriel, Aruilos’ wife Nimlúin, Ëariâth and Aradúlin, I began to notice how time had passed—Aradúlin held her youngest child Auríel, a spritely child with the darkest hair and grey eyes.

My household had grown but none would come from me. Legolas had left Mîráre behind and she became so distraught, her sister Ninyáre could not console her. In sadness, she left Mirkwood with her mother, Tárwen for Mithlond. As I was my father’s only heir, Legolas was mine but I knew he would never sit on the throne.

“Have you seen Súlelenth,” Aradúlin asked. “I have not seen her for two days, nor have I seen Êlenuil. What do I tell Nenduîl and Tárimë?”

“They went to see her family in Dale,” Ëariâth answered. “They should return before long. They have Eärluin and their cousins to keep them company.”

Êlúriel’s face seemed disturbed by those words, but said nothing—her eyes unmoved westward waiting patiently. Êlenuil and Súlelenth had gotten my blessing to leave.

Once we saw Tarthôn and Aruilos riding toward us with Elenadar and Elenatar, the mood brightened. As stable hands came for the horses, his wife and daughter met Tarthôn. Aruilos approached me and bowed as Nimlúin went to him.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “All is well. Elrond sends his gratitude.”

“How was it there,” I asked. “Was it as beautiful as they say?”

“Very much so,” he said. “We were fortunate to have met Elrohir and Elladan. You can imagine the trouble with having Elenadar and Elenadar present. I would think having two sets of twins did not sit well with Erestor or Lindir.”

“Well, then,” I said smiling. “It was best they left their sons with us. Four pairs would have driven them mad. Nimlos waits for you in the study.”

He smiled and bowed as he made his way into the palace with his wife, sister and mother.

“What of Legolas,” Êlúriel asked. “What he received well?”

“Yes, Nana,” Tarthôn said. "He took to chatting straight away as always."

Tarthôn came to me quietly and stood before me, looking down.

“What is the matter, Tarthôn,” I asked. “Do you miss Legolas already?”

“I do,” he said. “But I worry how you will do without him here, Ada.”

“I will do as well as I can,” I said. “But you are still here and we will greet him together when he returns.”

He looked up and smiled. Even now, so many years after he was left in my care, he felt I did not love him as much as Legolas. Unlike Orísil, he never quite felt a part of the family.

“Tarthôn,” I began. “Did you by chance see Elrond’s daughter while you were there?”

“Yes,” he answered. “As beautiful as it has been said. She is very much taken with Aragorn. I did not see him until the day we were to leave. There had come another man and one they call Gandalf and one of the dwarves that had come here before.”

We started into the palace through the gates. I was curious about the dwarves—I remembered the ones I had met after the battle of Dale and had wondered about them.

“Tell me more,” I said. “I am intrigued.”

“I believe his name was Glóin,” he said. “I recall he was there with his son Gimli. But there was a rather old creature there. He was there when we had arrived. He seemed rather fond of looking at Legolas from a distance as to have known him.”

“I shall see you later,” Êlúriel said, kissing Tarthôn’s cheek and taking her leaves as we entered my study where the entire council was in attendance.

“Aruilos, what was the name of that creature,” Tarthôn asked. “I seemed to have forgotten.”

“You mean the Hobbit,” he answered. “His name was Bilbo Baggins from the Shire.”

I stopped and found myself smiling—thinking about my little friend. To know he was still alive made me happy, though I wondered why he was so far from his home.

“As long as Legolas made it safely to Rivendell,” Fëaluin said. “That is what matters.”

“Yes, it is,” Ardôr said sternly. “I am happy for my dear cousin, Fëaluin. But it has been two days and I have not heard from my son. Perhaps we should have sent with him some protection. He is, after all, a Prince of the Realm.”

“You could have gone with him,” Eldôr said. “Or sent Elendôr along with him. The distance is not far.”

“He is fine, Ada,” Elendôr said. “He just worries about Súlelenth."

“Perhaps but they are among Men,” Ardôr sighed. “I am sure they would do a great deal more to my son than would the Elves in Rivendell.”

“We have never had issue with Dale or Esgaroth,” Elranduil said. “You are making far too much of this.”

“He is my son, Ada,” he said. “I have every right to make anything of this that I please.”

“You worry far too much, Ardôr,” I said. “Your son is of age. He has returned many times and he will again.”

“I know,” he said. “It is Súlelenth. She grows weaker.”

Aramír and Aramoth whispered to Nimlos as Orísil entered the room.

“They have returned, brother,” he said to Ardôr.

We walked out into the hall is where we saw Êlenuil and Súlelenth approaching. She smiled at me but I could see she was not well.

“Súlelenth, you do not look well,” I said.

“He is right,” Êlenuil said, touching her face. “You are rather warm.”

“I am fine, Êlenuil,” she said. “I want to see my children.”

Those were the last words she would say outside of her chambers. She collapsed into Êlenuil’s arms.

“Súlelenth,” he cried loudly, bringing everyone out of the study.

“Send for Nenloth and Nimlúin,” Fëaluin said. “Nimlos, help Êlenuil take her to her room. Elranduil, find Linurial. She is with Ardúin.”

I could not move—my thoughts were frozen.

“Do not worry, Thranduil,” Elranduil said. “Perhaps she is just be exhausted from traveling.”

“I’ll go after Nana,” I heard Tarthôn say to me as he disappeared in the swirling activity of the court.

“Send for her family,” Eldôr told Elendôr. “Take your brother with you.”

“And Elenadar and Elenatar,” Fëaluin added. “Night is falling and you will need to return before sunrise.”

“I will see to Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin,” Orísil said. He turned to Ardôr. “You should do as much, Brother. Should something happen to their mother, your words will not be forgotten by those that heard them.”

Ardôr looked at me then slowly followed Orísil away.

I left for my chambers—I feared what I might learn of Súlelenth’s condition. As I entered, I lay on my bed looking at the ceiling above. What seemed to me a lifetime was no more than a few hours when my chamber doors opened and Nenduîl and Tárimë stood beside me. They were in their nightclothes—still in their youth but slightly taller than before.

“We came to see you,” Tárimë said. “Nana said you were not well.”

“Your mother is well,” I asked, sitting. “She is not ill?”

“She is ill,” Nenduîl said climbing into bed and sitting on one side of me as his sister sat on the other. “She told us to come see you. She said you were sad.”

“I am worried about your mother,” I said. “Where is Eärluin?"

“She is sleeping,” Tarime said, curling up next to me. “Do you have a mother?"

“Yes, I do,” I said. “She is far away right now.”

“Do you miss her,” Nenduîl asked. “I will miss my Nana.”

“Yes, I miss my mother,” I said thinking about her. “She was the Queen of Eryn Galen. She was the most beautiful Queen in all of Arda.”

“Nana says so,” Tárimë said yawning. “She says her mother saw her once with her favorite cousin.”

“Longest hair as white as snow,” Nenduîl said, laying his head down on my lap. “Almost to the ground.”

“Yes, it was,” I said. “Your mother told you this?”

“Yes,” Tárimë said sleepily. “Her mother told her when she was a child.”

“She told her all about the Queen,” Nenduîl said, yawning.

“Queen Nimeithel,” I said softly. “My mother.”

“Queen Êlúriel,” Tárimë said. “Queen Êlúriel, too.”

“You were named for her, Tárimë,” Nenduîl said. “I was named for you.”

“I do not understand,” I said as tears had begun to fall.

“I am Tárimë Silme,” Tárimë said falling asleep. “He is Nenduîl Nárisil.”

“Starlight and Fire Moon,” Nenduîl said and drifted off to sleep with his sister.

Once I knew they were sleeping soundly, I pulled away from them gently and tucked them in and slipped away to find Êlúriel.

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

As the night wore on, Súlelenth had begun to grow weaker. Though she found comfort in her family, everyone knew she would not live much longer. Though I had seen death many times, this was the first time I would see the frailty of life. Elves escape mortality by nature but seldom by fate and the pain is no less real for us than for any living creature witness to fatality.

Not long before first twilight, Haldúir and Arímë arrived from Dale with Êlenuil and Elendôr. As I approached them, Êlúriel came running from outer colonnade toward us. Fëaluin came forward from my study.

“How is Súlelenth,” Arímë asked in a panic.

“She is not long for this world,” Êlúriel said sadly as she embraced her. “But Linurial said she was in good spirits though she grows weaker by the hour. Êlenuil is beside himself with grief.”

“Yes,” I said softly. “I suspect he would be, Êlúriel. Fëaluin, take them to their daughter. I would like a word with Êlúriel.”

Fëaluin nodded and led the couple away.

“Yes, Thranduil,” she asked quietly.

“The twins are asleep in our chambers,” I said. “Should I wake them so they may see their mother?”

“No,” she said. “There is time.”

“I cannot bear the thought of her children losing their mother,” I said. “Or Êlenuil losing his wife.”

Êlúriel looked at me, her eyes full of tears. She knew I was thinking back to when I almost lost her. Without saying a word, she ran away from me. I felt guilty for what I said in truth. I never found any pleasure in hurting anyone—even more so Êlúriel. I went into my study to await word on Súlelenth.

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

By nightfall the next evening, I was still in my study—lost in thought of all that had happened. I thought about Êlúriel. I longed to have her in my arms more than ever before. It was a wanton selfishness that bothered me knowing that Êlenuil would never have the same luxury again.

“Thranduil, you are needed now,” I heard Fëaluin say. “Súlelenth is dying.”

Those words pierced my heart. She had become as much a daughter to me as Isílriel. I could not bear to bring myself to watch her die--no matter my duty as a king.

“I know what I must do,” I answered. “But I cannot bear it, Fëaluin. She is only a child. Too young to die.”

“No one is too young or too old to die,” he said. “Not even elves. But men are not given the choice of immortality. They are given the choice of how they will live their lives until they die. They are remembered by how they live not for how long. She will not have lived long, but she has lived well.”

“Have Nenduîl and Tárimë seen their mother,” I asked. “I am worried about them. Eärluin will not remember this day. They will no longer have a mother nor Êlenuil a wife.”

“They have,” he answered softly.

I rose from my chair I walked slowly into the hall and through the darkened corridors leading to where Súlelenth lay dying. I saw nothing but her with her mother and father—her once vibrant skin drained of color. Êlúriel stood with Ninyáre and Ardúin; their heads hung in sorrow.

Súlelenth looked toward me with a faint smile until she turned her glance onto the ceiling with the familiar look of death I had become acquainted over many centuries. I shut her eyes for eternal sleep and kissed her forehead.

“Namárië, Súlelenth,” I whispered. “Hên nîn, Princess of the Woodland Realm.”

I turned away and saw Êlenuil sobbing desperately at the end of her bed.

“Have you seen to your children, Êlenuil,” I whispered. “They need their father now.”

He looked at me—he face drenched in tears.

“I cannot,” he said. “I cannot.”

I nodded and took my leave with Eldôr, Fëaluin, Elranduil and Ardôr behind me. Once in the hall, turned to speak.

“Fëaluin, you know what needs to be done,” I said. “Do it quickly.”

“Yes, Thranduil,” he said and made his way toward my study.

“Where are their children”

“They are with Linurial,” Elranduil said quietly.

“Go to them, Ardôr.”

“I do not think I am the one that should do so,” he said.

“If your son will not go to them, you must,” Eldôr said. “They need someone right now.”

“Can you not go, Thranduil,” Ardôr asked me. “Like Êlenuil, my manner would do nothing for them. But you are closer to them than even their father.”

“You would ask me to do such a thing,” I asked. “I have many duties as king of this realm, but I cannot take responsibility for something that does not belong to me.”

“I am not asking you,” he said. “I am throwing myself upon your mercy as my king. I am begging. Please.”

“Very well,” I answered. “But you have much to explain to your father for your actions.”

“Yes, he does,” Elranduil said, glaring at his son.

I started away toward the children’s chambers. As I approached the doors, the guards opened the doors for me. When the children saw me, Nenduîl and Tárimë ran to me and embraced me as Eärluin continued to play alone in the corner—unaware she would never see her mother again.

“I knew you would come,” Tárimë said. “How is Nana?”

“She is gone from us,” I said. “She is gone.”

“I know,” Nenduîl said. “She would have come if she were well.”

“Where is Ardôr,” Linurial asked me.

“He is with his father now,” I said. “He was in no condition to come.”

She nodded and went to see about Eärluin as Ardúin came into the room.

“Go to Linurial,” I whispered to Nenduîl and Tárimë. I stood to address Ardúin.

“I know why Ardôr did not come, Thranduil,” she said. “He knows that Êlenuil wishes to leave for Mithlond. He told his father he would should Súlelenth die. Now that she has, he will take the journey.”

We moved our discussion into the hall so the children would not hear.

“He would leave his children,” I asked. “They have just lost their mother. Must they lose their father as well?”

“I know,” she said. “That is why he has chosen to leave.”

“I do not understand.”

“He wishes to leave his children in your care—yours and the Queen.”

I stared at Ardúin—my heart and my thoughts running in all directions at once. Those words harkened back to when Árendil left Tarthôn with me.

“May we stay with you,” Tárimë asked. She had heard what I tried to conceal and had come with her brother into the hall. “I want to stay with you.”

“Me as well,” Nenduîl said. “I want to stay.”

I looked down at them—their faces hard to resist. I loved them very much—as if they were my own. I wonder what Êlúriel would say.

“Yes, you may stay with me,” I said. “Both of you go find Aranduil. I wish to speak with Ardúin for moment—privately.”

They ran down the hall excitedly. I feared they were still too young to know all that was happening; their sister Eärluin even less.

“Ardôr cannot bring himself to see them,” she said. “It is not due to lack of affinity for them. Our son’s words have troubled him since he said them.”

“It is not for Ardôr I have concern,” I said. “It is with your son. The world is not as it was after the Battle in Dale. There is a far greater evil out there. His safe passage is not assured. Should something happen to him, he will truly leave his children fatherless. What would anyone have me tell them?”

She said nothing and lowered her head as she began to cry.

“He does not know himself, Thranduil,” she cried. “Neither you or Elranduil will speak of it. If you would, perhaps he would stay.”

“And risk his children to know what they are? They are far too young to comprehend any of this. Do they know what they are?”

“Yes,” she said. “Súlelenth told them.”

“What did she tell them,” I asked, my voice growing louder. “What did she say to them?”

“She told them their mother was human and their father was elven,” she whispered.

“Did you or anyone tell Súlelenth about Êlenuil,” I asked.

“No,” she said.

“Then Nenduîl and Tárimë do not know who they are,” I said. “It will be up to me to tell them. That is why Ardôr will not see them. This has nothing to do with Súlelenth. I will speak with both of them but not until after Súlelenth is laid to rest. If Êlenuil wishes to leave thereafter, I will let him do as he wishes. But know this, no matter what he decides, Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin belong to me.”

I left swiftly in a deepening anger I would keep to myself until the time came for it to be unleashed.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-09-17

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.

[extendedtkwrtrilogyend]

Chapter XXI (EXT): The Best of Sons (Pt. VIII/a)

“It was not long after the wedding did time swiftly bring to Mirkwood more little elves for its last generation. As many things often came to me in the early morning, I was caught unaware. I was alone in my chambers resting peacefully when my doors flew open and an excited Isílriel ran in with Fëaluin not far behind.

“Ada,” she yelled. “Come quickly! You must come quickly.”

“Isílriel, please,” I said covering my ears. “Whatever it is, I am quite sure it can be said in a whisper."

“Why are you still in bed,” she asked.

“Because, I am the king,” I said. “Why are you in my chambers yelling at me so early?”

“Nana said I would find you here,” she said.

“Well,” I said as I sat up. “Imagine finding her husband in our room.”

“Súlelenth and Aradúlin have given birth,” Fëaluin said, motioning to my dressers to enter. “We have three new elves.”

“Three,” I asked, motioning for Isílriel to turn away as I stood up and walked to my dressing corner. “I thought two maidens were married nine months ago. Why would there be three elven children born?”

“Súlelenth has given birth to twins,” Isílriel said. “One of each.”

“One of each,” I laughed. “Each of what?”

“A boy and a girl,” Fëaluin said, lightly smacking my head. “Aradúlin gave birth a boy.”

“Where is Êlúriel,” I asked. I knew she had spent most of the night overseeing the princesses with the ladies.

“Nana is with Súlelenth,” Isílriel said turning around. “Ëariâth is with Aradúlin, of course. I cannot choose where to stay, Ada. They are all so beautiful.”

When the dressers were done, they left us alone.

“To whom shall I go first,” I asked. 

Their faces changed instantly—gone was the excitement they once had.

“What is the matter?”

“It is Súlelenth,” Fëaluin began. “She was weakened by labor. She lives but Linurial confided in me she will not make it should any illness disturb her delicate nature.”

“What of her children,” I asked.

“They are healthy, Ada,” Isílriel said sadly. “They have fared better than their mother.”

I embraced my daughter as she began to cry. I nodded at Fëaluin.

“So I shall go to Súlelenth first,” I said. “Will you be able to take me there, Isílriel?”

“Yes, Ada,” she said looking at me.

She led us out into the hall and through one winding corridor to Êlenuil and Súlelenth’s room.

I entered a room of solemn faces bowing to me as I entered. I looked to see Súlelenth lying in bed—pale, weak and damp from sweat; her head on her mother’s lap with her husband kneeling by her bedside holding her hand.

“Your Majesty,” she said softly. “I wish I could stand in your presence, but I am afraid birth has weakened me for now.”

“No need to worry,” I said. “There will be plenty of time for that. For now, you need your rest. Êlenuil, where are your children?”

He pointed to a corner where Êlúriel and Mîráre stood beside two elaborately carved cradles—each holding a sleeping newborn. I slowly went over to see them. I did not wish to wake them.

“This is Nenduîl,” Êlúriel whispered. I saw a sleeping baby, with soft golden hair.

“This is his sister Tárimë,” Mîráre said, showing me another newborn. She stirred in her sleep—opening her bright grey eyes that seemed to know who I was. Her hair nearly matched Êlúriel’s in color.

“They are beautiful,” I said. “Êlúriel, may I have a word with you?”

She nodded as she handed Nenduîl to Isílriel. As we turned to leave, everyone bowed. I motioned to Fëaluin to follow. Once in the hall, I felt a sense of comfort. The sight of Súlelenth had disturbed me greatly.

“Fëaluin, send word to Elranduil and Ardúin of my arrival,” I said.

He nodded and went his way. I turned to Eluriel.

“I expect you know of Súlelenth’s frailty,” I said.

“I do,” she said. “As does Arímë.”

“She could die,” I said.

“I know,” she said, looking down.

“Do her parents know about Êlenuil,” I asked.

“No,” she said, raising her head and looking at me. “I would tell them no such a thing now or ever.”

“I will not ask your reasons until this day is done,” I said. “When I do, do not hold a thing from me.”

“My reasons are the same as yours,” she said. “Though, I suspect you have had a change of heart whether to say anything about it to Arímë and Haldúir.”

“I cannot say,” I said, thinking. “I need time. For now, I will go to Elendôr and Aradúlin.”

She nodded and the guards opened the doors for her to return again. I continued down the hall for a time until I came to two more doors. As they opened, I heard the distinct sound of a crying infant. Inside, the mood was light and joyful. Aradúlin was sitting up in bed with Ëariâth and Ninyávë sitting on either side of her—Ardúin and Arlúin at the foot of her bed as Ardôr and Tarthon looked on with pride as Elranduil walked around whispering to a small baby with bright blue eyes and the shiniest golden hair I’d ever seen.

“I see you finally found someone to talk to, Elranduil,” I said.

Hardly looking up, he came to me showing off the newest addition to his family.

“His name is Aranduil,” he said. “Elendôr wanted to name him after us.”

“Oh, to condemn a child to such a fate,” Eldôr said from across the room. “I remain proud nonetheless.”

“Ada, put him down,” Orísil said. “He was like this when Êleneth was born, was he not, Nana?”

“Yes he was,” Ardúin said rising from the bed and taking Aranduil from her husband. “Time to feed him, and time for all of you to leave. That means you as well, Elranduil.”

As we began to leave, we were being replaced by more ladies of the court. Once in the hall the doors closed and we just stood looking at each other for a moment.

“I never liked when they did that,” Eldôr said.

“Not at all,” Orísil said.

“It is so cruel,” Elranduil said.

Ardôr and Tarthôn tried not to laugh.

“No use standing around. We have council,” Fëaluin said. “Shall we?”

“I wish to see my brother, if I may,” Elendôr said. “I know he grieves for Súlelenth’s malaise.”

“You may,” I said.

“I worry for Êlenuil,” Ardôr said watching his son leaving. “What will he do if she were to die?”

“Do not say such a thing,” Tarthôn said. “The thought pains even me.”

I did not say a word about it for the rest of the day. I kept my thoughts to myself until evening when I could speak to Êlúriel.

Needless to say, by evening, Êlúriel said nothing to me about Súlelenth. We went about our nightly routine in silence. This continued for days then months as Súlelenth started grow stronger. Soon she seemed to return to good health and found joy in watching her children grow.”–TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 10-30-17

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]

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. 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

Images: ©2001, 2002, 2003. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. All Rights Reserved.

[iamjaynaemarie]

After Legolas leaves, a tragedy unfolds with the death of Súlelenth. Now the decision to leave the children with Thranduil and Êlúriel by their father, Êlenuil leaves the Elvenking in a predicament.

Chapter XXII (EXT): The Death of Súlelenth (Part I)

“Legolas was gone—the son I tried desperately to protect from the world was now in that world vowing to save it from the shadow that had returned. I spent the days after his departure tortured with thoughts of losing him in many ways. It was not until Tarthôn and Aruilos returned from Rivendell safely did I find peace.

As I stood with Êlúriel, Aruilos’ wife Nimlúin, Ëariâth and Aradúlin, I began to notice how time had passed—Aradúlin held her youngest child Auríel, a spritely child with the darkest hair and grey eyes.

My household had grown but none would come from me. Legolas had left Mîráre behind and she became so distraught, her sister Ninyáre could not console her. In sadness, she left Mirkwood with her mother, Tárwen for Mithlond. As I was my father’s only heir, Legolas was mine but I knew he would never sit on the throne.

“Have you seen Súlelenth,” Aradúlin asked. “I have not seen her for two days, nor have I seen Êlenuil. What do I tell Nenduîl and Tárimë?”

“They went to see her family in Dale,” Ëariâth answered. “They should return before long. They have Eärluin and their cousins to keep them company.”

Êlúriel’s face seemed disturbed by those words, but said nothing—her eyes unmoved westward waiting patiently. Êlenuil and Súlelenth had gotten my blessing to leave.

Once we saw Tarthôn and Aruilos riding toward us with Elenadar and Elenatar, the mood brightened. As stable hands came for the horses, his wife and daughter met Tarthôn. Aruilos approached me and bowed as Nimlúin went to him.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “All is well. Elrond sends his gratitude.”

“How was it there,” I asked. “Was it as beautiful as they say?”

“Very much so,” he said. “We were fortunate to have met Elrohir and Elladan. You can imagine the trouble with having Elenadar and Elenadar present. I would think having two sets of twins did not sit well with Erestor or Lindir.”

“Well, then,” I said smiling. “It was best they left their sons with us. Four pairs would have driven them mad. Nimlos waits for you in the study.”

He smiled and bowed as he made his way into the palace with his wife, sister and mother.

“What of Legolas,” Êlúriel asked. “What he received well?”

“Yes, Nana,” Tarthôn said. “He took to chatting straight away as always.”

Tarthôn came to me quietly and stood before me, looking down.

“What is the matter, Tarthôn,” I asked. “Do you miss Legolas already?”

“I do,” he said. “But I worry how you will do without him here, Ada.”

“I will do as well as I can,” I said. “But you are still here and we will greet him together when he returns.”

He looked up and smiled. Even now, so many years after he was left in my care, he felt I did not love him as much as Legolas. Unlike Orísil, he never quite felt a part of the family.

“Tarthôn,” I began. “Did you by chance see Elrond’s daughter while you were there?”

“Yes,” he answered. “As beautiful as it has been said. She is very much taken with Aragorn. I did not see him until the day we were to leave. There had come another man and one they call Gandalf and one of the dwarves that had come here before.”

We started into the palace through the gates. I was curious about the dwarves—I remembered the ones I had met after the battle of Dale and had wondered about them.

“Tell me more,” I said. “I am intrigued.”

“I believe his name was Glóin,” he said. “I recall he was there with his son Gimli. But there was a rather old creature there. He was there when we had arrived. He seemed rather fond of looking at Legolas from a distance as to have known him.”

“I shall see you later,” Êlúriel said, kissing Tarthôn’s cheek and taking her leaves as we entered my study where the entire council was in attendance.

“Aruilos, what was the name of that creature,” Tarthôn asked. “I seemed to have forgotten.”

“You mean the Hobbit,” he answered. “His name was Bilbo Baggins from the Shire.”

I stopped and found myself smiling—thinking about my little friend. To know he was still alive made me happy, though I wondered why he was so far from his home.

“As long as Legolas made it safely to Rivendell,” Fëaluin said. “That is what matters.”

“Yes, it is,” Ardôr said sternly. “I am happy for my dear cousin, Fëaluin. But it has been two days and I have not heard from my son. Perhaps we should have sent with him some protection. He is, after all, a Prince of the Realm.”

“You could have gone with him,” Eldôr said. “Or sent Elendôr along with him. The distance is not far.”

“He is fine, Ada,” Elendôr said. “He just worries about Súlelenth.“

“Perhaps but they are among Men,” Ardôr sighed. “I am sure they would do a great deal more to my son than would the Elves in Rivendell.”

“We have never had issue with Dale or Esgaroth,” Elranduil said. “You are making far too much of this.”

“He is my son, Ada,” he said. “I have every right to make anything of this that I please.”

“You worry far too much, Ardôr,” I said. “Your son is of age. He has returned many times and he will again.”

“I know,” he said. “It is Súlelenth. She grows weaker.”

Aramír and Aramoth whispered to Nimlos as Orísil entered the room.

“They have returned, brother,” he said to Ardôr.

We walked out into the hall is where we saw Êlenuil and Súlelenth approaching. She smiled at me but I could see she was not well.

“Súlelenth, you do not look well,” I said.

“He is right,” Êlenuil said, touching her face. “You are rather warm.”

“I am fine, Êlenuil,” she said. “I want to see my children.”

Those were the last words she would say outside of her chambers. She collapsed into Êlenuil’s arms.

“Súlelenth,” he cried loudly, bringing everyone out of the study.

“Send for Nenloth and Nimlúin,” Fëaluin said. “Nimlos, help Êlenuil take her to her room. Elranduil, find Linurial. She is with Ardúin.”

I could not move—my thoughts were frozen.

“Do not worry, Thranduil,” Elranduil said. “Perhaps she is just be exhausted from traveling.”

“I’ll go after Nana,” I heard Tarthôn say to me as he disappeared in the swirling activity of the court.

“Send for her family,” Eldôr told Elendôr. “Take your brother with you.”

“And Elenadar and Elenatar,” Fëaluin added. “Night is falling and you will need to return before sunrise.”

“I will see to Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin,” Orísil said. He turned to Ardôr. “You should do as much, Brother. Should something happen to their mother, your words will not be forgotten by those that heard them.”

Ardôr looked at me then slowly followed Orísil away.

I left for my chambers—I feared what I might learn of Súlelenth’s condition. As I entered, I lay on my bed looking at the ceiling above. What seemed to me a lifetime was no more than a few hours when my chamber doors opened and Nenduîl and Tárimë stood beside me. They were in their nightclothes—still in their youth but slightly taller than before.

“We came to see you,” Tárimë said. “Nana said you were not well.”

“Your mother is well,” I asked, sitting. “She is not ill?”

“She is ill,” Nenduîl said climbing into bed and sitting on one side of me as his sister sat on the other. “She told us to come see you. She said you were sad.”

“I am worried about your mother,” I said. “Where is Eärluin?”

“She is sleeping,” Tarime said, curling up next to me. “Do you have a mother?“

“Yes, I do,” I said. “She is far away right now.”

“Do you miss her,” Nenduîl asked. “I will miss my Nana.”

“Yes, I miss my mother,” I said thinking about her. “She was the Queen of Eryn Galen. She was the most beautiful Queen in all of Arda.”

“Nana says so,” Tárimë said yawning. “She says her mother saw her once with her favorite cousin.”

“Longest hair as white as snow,” Nenduîl said, laying his head down on my lap. “Almost to the ground.”

“Yes, it was,” I said. “Your mother told you this?”

“Yes,” Tárimë said sleepily. “Her mother told her when she was a child.”

“She told her all about the Queen,” Nenduîl said, yawning.

“Queen Nimeithel,” I said softly. “My mother.”

“Queen Êlúriel,” Tárimë said. “Queen Êlúriel, too.”

“You were named for her, Tárimë,” Nenduîl said. “I was named for you.”

“I do not understand,” I said as tears had begun to fall.

“I am Tárimë Silme,” Tárimë said falling asleep. “He is Nenduîl Nárisil.”

“Starlight and Fire Moon,” Nenduîl said and drifted off to sleep with his sister.

Once I knew they were sleeping soundly, I pulled away from them gently and tucked them in and slipped away to find Êlúriel.

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

As the night wore on, Súlelenth had begun to grow weaker. Though she found comfort in her family, everyone knew she would not live much longer. Though I had seen death many times, this was the first time I would see the frailty of life. Elves escape mortality by nature but seldom by fate and the pain is no less real for us than for any living creature witness to fatality.

Not long before first twilight, Haldúir and Arímë arrived from Dale with Êlenuil and Elendôr. As I approached them, Êlúriel came running from outer colonnade toward us. Fëaluin came forward from my study.

“How is Súlelenth,” Arímë asked in a panic.

“She is not long for this world,” Êlúriel said sadly as she embraced her. “But Linurial said she was in good spirits though she grows weaker by the hour. Êlenuil is beside himself with grief.”

“Yes,” I said softly. “I suspect he would be, Êlúriel. Fëaluin, take them to their daughter. I would like a word with Êlúriel.”

Fëaluin nodded and led the couple away.

“Yes, Thranduil,” she asked quietly.

“The twins are asleep in our chambers,” I said. “Should I wake them so they may see their mother?”

“No,” she said. “There is time.”

“I cannot bear the thought of her children losing their mother,” I said. “Or Êlenuil losing his wife.”

Êlúriel looked at me, her eyes full of tears. She knew I was thinking back to when I almost lost her. Without saying a word, she ran away from me. I felt guilty for what I said in truth. I never found any pleasure in hurting anyone—even more so Êlúriel. I went into my study to await word on Súlelenth.

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

By nightfall the next evening, I was still in my study—lost in thought of all that had happened. I thought about Êlúriel. I longed to have her in my arms more than ever before. It was a wanton selfishness that bothered me knowing that Êlenuil would never have the same luxury again.

“Thranduil, you are needed now,” I heard Fëaluin say. “Súlelenth is dying.”

Those words pierced my heart. She had become as much a daughter to me as Isílriel. I could not bear to bring myself to watch her die–no matter my duty as a king.

“I know what I must do,” I answered. “But I cannot bear it, Fëaluin. She is only a child. Too young to die.”

“No one is too young or too old to die,” he said. “Not even elves. But men are not given the choice of immortality. They are given the choice how they will live their life until they die. They are remembered by how they live, not for how long. She will not have lived long, but she has lived well.”

“Have Nenduîl and Tárimë seen their mother,” I asked. “I am worried about them. Eärluin will not remember this day. They will no longer have a mother nor Êlenuil a wife.”

“They have,” he answered softly.

I rose from my chair I walked slowly into the hall and through the darkened corridors leading to where Súlelenth lay dying. I saw nothing but her with her mother and father—her once vibrant skin drained of color. Êlúriel stood with Ninyáre and Ardúin; their heads hung in sorrow.

Súlelenth looked toward me with a faint smile until she turned her glance onto the ceiling with the familiar look of death I had become acquainted over many centuries. I shut her eyes for eternal sleep and kissed her forehead.

“Namárië, Súlelenth,” I whispered. “Hên nîn, Princess of the Woodland Realm.”

I turned away and saw Êlenuil sobbing desperately at the end of her bed.

“Have you seen to your children, Êlenuil,” I whispered. “They need their father now.”

He looked at me—he face drenched in tears.

“I cannot,” he said. “I cannot.”

I nodded and took my leave with Eldôr, Fëaluin, Elranduil and Ardôr behind me. Once in the hall, turned to speak.

“Fëaluin, you know what needs to be done,” I said. “Do it quickly.”

“Yes, Thranduil,” he said and made his way toward my study.

“Where are their children”

“They are with Linurial,” Elranduil said quietly.

“Go to them, Ardôr.”

“I do not think I am the one that should do so,” he said.

“If your son will not go to them, you must,” Eldôr said. “They need someone right now.”

“Can you not go, Thranduil,” Ardôr asked me. “Like Êlenuil, my manner would do nothing for them. But you are closer to them than even their father.”

“You would ask me to do such a thing,” I asked. “I have many duties as king of this realm, but I cannot take responsibility for something that does not belong to me.”

“I am not asking you,” he said. “I am throwing myself upon your mercy as my king. I am begging. Please.”

“Very well,” I answered. “But you have much to explain to your father for your actions.”

“Yes, he does,” Elranduil said, glaring at his son.

I started away toward the children’s chambers. As I approached the doors, the guards opened the doors for me. When the children saw me, Nenduîl and Tárimë ran to me and embraced me as Eärluin continued to play alone in the corner—unaware she would never see her mother again.

“I knew you would come,” Tárimë said. “How is Nana?”

“She is gone from us,” I said. “She is gone.”

“I know,” Nenduîl said. “She would have come if she were well.”

“Where is Ardôr,” Linurial asked me.

“He is with his father now,” I said. “He was in no condition to come.”

She nodded and went to see about Eärluin as Ardúin came into the room.

“Go to Linurial,” I whispered to Nenduîl and Tárimë. I stood to address Ardúin.

“I know why Ardôr did not come, Thranduil,” she said. “He knows that Êlenuil wishes to leave for Mithlond. He told his father he would should Súlelenth die. Now that she has, he will take the journey.”

We moved our discussion into the hall so the children would not hear.

“He would leave his children,” I asked. “They have just lost their mother. Must they lose their father as well?”

“I know,” she said. “That is why he has chosen to leave.”

“I do not understand.”

“He wishes to leave his children in your care—yours and the Queen.”

I stared at Ardúin—my heart and my thoughts running in all directions at once. Those words harkened back to when Árendil left Tarthôn with me.

“May we stay with you,” Tárimë asked. She had heard what I tried to conceal and had come with her brother into the hall. “I want to stay with you.”

“Me as well,” Nenduîl said. “I want to stay.”

I looked down at them—their faces hard to resist. I loved them very much—as if they were my own. I wonder what Êlúriel would say.

“Yes, you may stay with me,” I said. “Both of you go find Aranduil. I wish to speak with Ardúin for moment—privately.”

They ran down the hall excitedly. I feared they were still too young to know all that was happening; their sister Eärluin even less.

“Ardôr cannot bring himself to see them,” she said. “It is not due to lack of affinity for them. Our son’s words have troubled him since he said them.”

“It is not for Ardôr I have concern,” I said. “It is with your son. The world is not as it was after the Battle in Dale. There is a far greater evil out there. His safe passage is not assured. Should something happen to him, he will truly leave his children fatherless. What would anyone have me tell them?”

She said nothing and lowered her head as she began to cry.

“He does not know himself, Thranduil,” she cried. “Neither you or Elranduil will speak of it. If you would, perhaps he would stay.”

“And risk his children to know what they are? They are far too young to comprehend any of this. Do they know what they are?”

“Yes,” she said. “Súlelenth told them.”

“What did she tell them,” I asked, my voice growing louder. “What did she say to them?”

“She told them their mother was human and their father was elven,” she whispered.

“Did you or anyone tell Súlelenth about Êlenuil,” I asked.

“No,” she said.

“Then Nenduîl and Tárimë do not know who they are,” I said. “It will be up to me to tell them. That is why Ardôr will not see them. This has nothing to do with Súlelenth. I will speak with both of them but not until after Súlelenth is laid to rest. If Êlenuil wishes to leave thereafter, I will let him do as he wishes. But know this, no matter what he decides, Nenduîl, Tárimë and Eärluin belong to me.”

I left swiftly in a deepening anger I would keep to myself until the time came for it to be unleashed.”––TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 12-09-17

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]

Thranduil learns of the births of Nenduîl and Tárimë as well as Aranduil, their cousin and the shared great grandson of Thranduil, Elranduil, Nimlos and Tatháron, father of Ninyáre, wife of Ardôr. He learns the birth of the twins weakened Súlelenth tremendously. Êlúriel knows more than she will say, but both she and Thranduil fear telling Arímë or Haldúir anything about their son-in-law, Êlenuil for now.

Chapter XXI (EXT): The Best of Sons (Pt. VIII/a)

“It was not long after the wedding did time swiftly bring to Mirkwood more little elves for its last generation. As many things often came to me in the early morning, I was caught unaware. I was alone in my chambers resting peacefully when my doors flew open and an excited Isílriel ran in with Fëaluin not far behind.

“Ada,” she yelled. “Come quickly! You must come quickly.”

“Isílriel, please,” I said covering my ears. “Whatever it is, I am quite sure it can be said in a whisper.“

“Why are you still in bed,” she asked.

“Because, I am the king,” I said. “Why are you in my chambers yelling at me so early?”

“Nana said I would find you here,” she said.

“Well,” I said as I sat up. “Imagine finding her husband in our room.”

“Súlelenth and Aradúlin have given birth,” Fëaluin said, motioning to my dressers to enter. “We have three new elves.”

“Three,” I asked, motioning for Isílriel to turn away as I stood up and walked to my dressing corner. “I thought two maidens were married nine months ago. Why would there be three elven children born?”

“Súlelenth has given birth to twins,” Isílriel said. “One of each.”

“One of each,” I laughed. “Each of what?”

“A boy and a girl,” Fëaluin said, lightly smacking my head. “Aradúlin gave birth a boy.”

“Where is Êlúriel,” I asked. I knew she had spent most of the night overseeing the princesses with the ladies.

“Nana is with Súlelenth,” Isílriel said turning around. “Ëariâth is with Aradúlin, of course. I cannot choose where to stay, Ada. They are all so beautiful.”

When the dressers were done, they left us alone.

“To whom shall I go first,” I asked. 

Their faces changed instantly—gone was the excitement they once had.

“What is the matter?”

“It is Súlelenth,” Fëaluin began. “She was weakened by labor. She lives but Linurial confided in me she will not make it should any illness disturb her delicate nature.”

“What of her children,” I asked.

“They are healthy, Ada,” Isílriel said sadly. “They have fared better than their mother.”

I embraced my daughter as she began to cry. I nodded at Fëaluin.

“So I shall go to Súlelenth first,” I said. “Will you be able to take me there, Isílriel?”

“Yes, Ada,” she said looking at me.

She led us out into the hall and through one winding corridor to Êlenuil and Súlelenth’s room.

I entered a room of solemn faces bowing to me as I entered. I looked to see Súlelenth lying in bed—pale, weak and damp from sweat; her head on her mother’s lap with her husband kneeling by her bedside holding her hand.

“Your Majesty,” she said softly. “I wish I could stand in your presence, but I am afraid birth has weakened me for now.”

“No need to worry,” I said. “There will be plenty of time for that. For now, you need your rest. Êlenuil, where are your children?”

He pointed to a corner where Êlúriel and Mîráre stood beside two elaborately carved cradles—each holding a sleeping newborn. I slowly went over to see them. I did not wish to wake them.

“This is Nenduîl,” Êlúriel whispered. I saw a sleeping baby, with soft golden hair.

“This is his sister Tárimë,” Mîráre said, showing me another newborn. She stirred in her sleep—opening her bright grey eyes that seemed to know who I was. Her hair nearly matched Êlúriel’s in color.

“They are beautiful,” I said. “Êlúriel, may I have a word with you?”

She nodded as she handed Nenduîl to Isílriel. As we turned to leave, everyone bowed. I motioned to Fëaluin to follow. Once in the hall, I felt a sense of comfort. The sight of Súlelenth had disturbed me greatly.

“Fëaluin, send word to Elranduil and Ardúin of my arrival,” I said.

He nodded and went his way. I turned to Eluriel.

“I expect you know of Súlelenth frailty,” I said.

“I do,” she said. “As does Arímë.”

“She could die,” I said.

“I know,” she said, looking down.

“Do her parents know about Êlenuil,” I asked.

“No,” she said, raising her head and looking at me. “I would tell them no such a thing now or ever.”

“I will not ask your reasons until this day is done,” I said. “When I do, do not hold a thing from me.”

“My reasons are the same as yours,” she said. “Though, I suspect you have had a change of heart whether to say anything about it to Arímë and Haldúir.”

“I cannot say,” I said, thinking. “I need time. For now, I will go to Elendôr and Aradúlin.”

She nodded and the guards opened the doors for her to return again. I continued down the hall for a time until I came to two more doors. As they opened, I heard the distinct sound of a crying infant. Inside, the mood was light and joyful. Aradúlin was sitting up in bed with Ëariâth and Ninyávë sitting on either side of her—Ardúin and Arlúin at the foot of her bed as Ardôr and Tarthon looked on with pride as Elranduil walked around whispering to a small baby with bright blue eyes and the shiniest golden hair I’d ever seen.

“I see you finally found someone to talk to, Elranduil,” I said.

Hardly looking up, he came to me showing off the newest addition to his family.

“His name is Aranduil,” he said. “Elendôr wanted to name him after us.”

“Oh, to condemn a child to such a fate,” Eldôr said from across the room. “I remain proud nonetheless.”

“Ada, put him down,” Orísil said. “He was like this when Êleneth was born, was he not, Nana?”

“Yes he was,” Ardúin said rising from the bed and taking Aranduil from her husband. “Time to feed him, and time for all of you to leave. That means you as well, Elranduil.”

As we began to leave, we were being replaced by more ladies of the court. Once in the hall the doors closed and we just stood looking at each other for a moment.

“I never liked when they did that,” Eldôr said.

“Not at all,” Orísil said.

“It is so cruel,” Elranduil said.

Ardôr and Tarthôn tried not to laugh.

“No use standing around. We have council,” Fëaluin said. “Shall we?”

“I wish to see my brother, if I may,” Elendôr said. “I know he grieves for Súlelenth’s malaise.”

“You may,” I said.

“I worry for Êlenuil,” Ardôr said watching his son leaving. “What will he do if she were to die?”

“Do not say such a thing,” Tarthôn said. “The thought pains even me.”

I did not say a word about it for the rest of the day. I kept my thoughts to myself until evening when I could speak to Êlúriel.”–TKWR:BII The Saga of Thranduil (EXT. VER.) by J. Marie Miller 10-30-17

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.