We remained in this land longer than anticipated—long enough for a number of elves to give birth to the next generation shortly after Celebriel—including Lothluin. Valdôr’s joy could hardly be contained once he laid eyes upon his newborn son.
“Is he not the most handsome infant you have ever seen,” he asked anyone within view.
“Valdôr, please,” Lothluin said for what seemed the thousandth time from the entrance of their home. “Give me Eldôr so he may rest.”
Valdúmîr took the sleeping elfling from his doting father and returned him to his mother. Valdôr sighed deeply.
“I miss him,” he said.
“How can you miss him,” I asked. “You live with them both.”
“I know,” he mused. “But he sleeps more than he is awake whenever we are all together.”
“Be thankful,” Êlengolas said. “There will be plenty of time to hear the melodic wailing of elflings.”
“When are you around so many to complain,” I asked.
“I have the misfortune of residing beside them as my wife tends to nearly all newborns. She has help now, thankfully. Herself being heavy with child, I worry for her.”
“As I worry for Mîrwen,” I whispered. “She says not to worry but I cannot.”
As we spoke among ourselves, I noticed two young elven maidens following Nárwen into my sanctuary. My demeanor changed enough to be noticed.
“What is the matter, Orothôn,” Valdôr asked.
“Nárwen just entered my sanctuary,” I answered. “Pardon me.”
I nearly ran the short distance and entered. My beloved was pallid—her entire body damp with perspiration. One of the maidens had covered her as the other held her head in her lap.
“Mîrwen,” I yelled.
“You must leave now,” Nárwen said calmly as Orowen entered.
“I will not,” I said desperately. “Tell me what is the matter with my wife?”
Orowen motioned to Nárwen to go about her duty to attend Mîrwen.
“You wife is about to give birth,” Orowen said smiling. “Do not worry. She will be fine. Go, now. I will send word to you.”
I slowly walked out—the sight of Mîrwen seared into my mind. I sat beneath a towering tree and waited. It was not long before I heard Mîrwen screaming then no more. There was a deafening silence that brought me to my feet as Elmo, Galathil, and Galadhon joined me. We stood together waiting—our hearts beating in a terrible rhythm over light breezes. I looked around to see concerned faces—their eyes glowing as earthly stars surrounded by the stillness of twilight.
Suddenly there was a cry—soft at first then shrill and pulsating as if struggling to breathe. As quickly as it came, it began to fade to a gentle murmur. Orowen emerged and everyone bowed. She looked at us and smiled as she approached.
“How is she,” we seemed to ask together with fear in our voices.
“She will live,” she said mocking us. “Come, leave Orothon to see his wife and son.”
As they left me, the curious eyes turned away as Nárwen and the two maidens stepped out.
“Mîrwen wishes to see you,” Nárwen said.
They went their way, but my body remained suspended in time—afraid of what I might see. After what seemed an eternity, I slowly entered our sanctuary. Mîrwen was motionless. She was upright with bedding supporting her. Her eyes were closed—she seemed as soon, her hair still wet from her ordeal.
In her arms, she held a bundle hidden from view. As I made my way cautiously toward her, I heard a sound I never heard before. When I was close to Mîrwen, I looked to see the little bundle was moving. He had found his mother’s breast and had started to suckle. She remained motionless as the baby suckled. When he looked up, he stopped and glanced at me. I was mesmerized—in awe at this tiny wonder. I leaned over and kissed the top of his soft head.
“Would you like to hold him,” Mîrwen said softly as she began to stir.
“Are you well,” I asked.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I am fine. I was resting. Birth is wonderfully exhausting.”
I took our son into my arms and he gave me a stern look then seemed to smile.
“Oropher,” I whispered. “I will call you Oropher.”
My son cooed as he reached out and took a lock of my hair. Even as a newborn his grip was strong. I lay him down in a small cradle at the end of our bed and he fell asleep almost instantly. I lay beside Mîrwen. She smiled as she caressed my face. I kissed her.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Thank you, Orothon,” she whispered back.
As we lay in each other’s arms, I knew how true happiness felt. I never wanted it to end.
**** **** **** ****
What seemed a moment showed itself to be greater; before long things changed even as the twilight lingered. Life beneath the starlight flourished. We had ventured only a short distance when we stopped again for our generation was giving birth to another. Oropher had no sooner been born when he had begun to crawl and then walk—spending time with Mîrwen and Orowen; oft with his new friend Eldôr.
I was speaking to Iarûr when Eäros approached us—behind him wandered Níndi. She had been enamored since she first laid eyes upon him.
“What word do you have for us, Eäros,” Iarûr said almost gleeful in anticipation.
“The Lady Nárwen has given birth, my Lords. To a son, they call Amdir.”
“That is indeed good news,” I said.
“What news of Valdúmîr,” Iarûr asked. “Has she been blessed with a son as well?”
“No,” Níndi said shaking her head. “Girl.”
I remembered what Êlengolas once said and nearly laughed.
“Why Princess Níndi,” Iarûr continued. “You have grown quite a bit since I saw you last.”
She smiled shyly, hiding behind Eäros.
“A daughter,” I finally said. “How are mother and child?”
“They are as to be expected,” Êlengolas said as he approached with Valdôr. “Eäros, your sister seeks your company.”
“Where is Anadriel,” he asked.
“With Celebriel, of course.”
He bowed and hurried away with Níndi close behind.
“There is a coupling if I have ever seen one,” Valdôr said as he watched them leave.
“I am more concerned with whom Êlengolas’ daughter will wed,” I said mockingly.
“You heard,” he asked—a wide grin on his face. “She is the most beautiful elfling I have ever seen.”
“And what do you call this beautiful elfling,” Iarûr asked.
“Her name is Nimeithel,” he said proudly.
“Have you gone mad,” Valdôr asked.
“You amuse me, Valdôr,” Êlengolas answered. “It is a wonder seeing as you are hardly witty. If you must know, my daughter is well behaved and blessedly quiet.”
Iarûr, Valdôr and I burst into laughter. Êlengolas shook his head.
“Iarûr, Elmo wishes a word,” a voice said. It was Galadhon. Iarûr nodded and went on his way.
“Something the matter,” I asked him. His expression was pensive.
“Father is worried,” he confided. “He will not say why. We should have come upon uncle by now.”
“Does he think he has gone from this world,” Êlengolas asked.
“Perhaps he is in Eldamar,” Valdôr chimed in.
“He is hidden,” Galadhon said. “That is what mother says. Bewitched, perhaps. It is no matter. We shall remain here for now.”
We stood in silence awaiting a respite. It came in the form of three of the elves that had been with Eäros. They were at play with one another. Of their party, there were three elven boys and two elven maidens.
“Have they told you nothing,” I asked. “For they saw Elwë last.”
“See that lad there,” Galadhon motioned, pointing to the taller of the boys. “He is Círdan. He said before uncle left them, there seemed a changed around them—like the air was no more. After a moment, they were alone.”
“Surely he remembers where,” Valdôr said. “How far away can we be from where he once was?”
“Perhaps,” Galadhon began. “If he knows he has yet to say.”
“I would give him time,” Êlengolas said. “They are young and came to us in fear.”
“May their memories come to them soon,” Galadhon said quietly. “This world is not long for a time of true darkness.”
**** **** **** ****
Returning home, I was shaken by Galadhon’s words. I looked at the stars—unnumbered points of light shining down on us, each one twinkling as they hung onto the shadow of Heaven that was the sky. I imagined each one fading away; to leave us in darkness.
I sat down beside a large tree and continued to stare into the sky. Before long, I found myself drifting into a familiar place I had never been before. There were scenes of joy and terror; love and hate—light and dark. Each moment in time as a thread that was woven together into a tapestry of hope and despair. As the scenes grew more vivid, I felt a tug on my arm that jolted me out of my visions. I turned to see Oropher standing beside me.
“Oropher,” I began happily. “Where did you come from?”
“From Nana,” he said. I looked up to see Mîrwen smiling at me. My worries faded at the sight of them. She joined me as Oropher became fascinated with a flower nearby.
“What has your mind wandering,” Mîrwen asked. “You seem lost.”
“It is nothing,” I lied knowing she knew better. “Just thoughts.”
“Galadhon told you of Elwë,” she said.
“Yes,” I conceded.
“He saw the coming of darker days,” she said.
“You know everything,” I said.
“I do not know everything,” she said. “I know my brothers. Galadhon’s wife is quick with child again. He worries for Celebriel. He very much wants to reach Eldamar soon, but it will not happen.”
“What do you mean,” I asked. Her face had become stoic and her voice low.
“Many shall never leave this world,” she began. “Not as they should. The lure of this world is too great.”
“What could be in this world anyone would want? I see very little to desire.”
“What lies beneath the earth can grow things that are sweeter than nectar. One taste can claim the soul of anyone.”
I took her hand and kissed it.
“I am quite content with what is above the ground. I have little desire for anything more.”
She smiled—her face becoming gentle once more. Our lips met and the world disappeared.
“Nana,” Oropher said, toddling over and falling into her arms. “Now, please.”
“Very well,” she said, cradling him in her arms. He curled up close as she began to feed him.
“Do you worry, Mîrwen,” I asked returning my gaze to the stars.
“I worry about many things,” she said. “But I fear nothing for the sake of our child.”
We sat together quietly until Oropher fell asleep. I rose and helped Mîrwen to her feet. Together we entered our home. Mîrwen placed Oropher in his cradle. When she turned to me, she kissed me. Together we sat down on our bed.
“You know I will protect you both with my life,” I whispered.
“I know, Orothôn,” she answered. “And I will protect you both with my life.”
We kissed again. When our lips parted, she looked at me knowing my every need, want and desire. With great care, she leaned against the bed board as I lay my head on her lap. She stroked my hair until our son woke from his long rest.
© 2015. “The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy—Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen” by Jaynaé Marie Miller. All Rights Reserved.
The Kingdom of The Woodland Realm Trilogy 