Are you missing Bilbo Baggins and his hairy feet, pining for the silken tresses of elven princeling Legolas, or perhaps hankering after one last visit to Smaug’s echoing dwarven netherworld of hoarded jewels and trinkets? Well, the good news is that a new box set of Peter Jackson’s JRR Tolkien adaptations will be released this autumn, which includes the extended versions of all three Lord of the Rings movies and the trilogy of Hobbit films.

For fans of big-screen high fantasy, the chance to delve back into the world of invisibility rings, evil dark lords, orcs and wizards will no doubt be welcomed like a mug of refreshing brown beer from Hobbiton’s famous Green Dragon inn (even if Jackson’s more recent trilogy always felt as unnaturally stretched as Gollum’s lifespan).

The bad news? Well, it increasingly appears, in the wake of box-office struggles for the likes of Duncan Jones’s Warcraft and the odious Huntsman: Winter’s War, that the great age of epic fantasy cinema that Lord of the Rings once promised to usher in remains as distant as ever.

On the small screen, Game of Thrones approaches its denouement with audience passion for the Machiavellian saga at an all-time high. But it looks increasingly unlikely that we’ll get to see the big-screen finale to the series once hinted at by George RR Martin. Perhaps that’s a good thing, given the way Hollywood screenwriters habitually over-egg the pudding with preposterous special effects-laden set pieces when writing for the cinema. No one wants to see Game of Thrones jump the shark just as it enters the final straight.

There is the slim possibility of a sequel to Warcraft – though few filmgoers outside of China appear to want a return visit to the clunky and lethargic world of Azeroth. Then there is the long-planned Legend of Conan, with Arnold Schwarzenegger due to reprise his role as the Cimmerian ruler of Aquilonia from John Milius’s 1982 epic Conan the Barbarian. But that appears not to have the official green light, despite the Austrian oak talking it up plenty during publicity for Terminator Genisys. And we’ve recently seen the trailer for Guy Ritchie’s weirdly high-octane King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, which in theory is intended to be the first in a six-film saga about the all-new, all-action Once and Future King.

What’s surprising, however, especially in this era of cinematic universes, is that no one has yet come up with a workable framework for an ongoing swords and sorcery saga – a fantasy answer to the Marvel movies, or the work that Disney-owned Lucasfilm is currently putting in to expand the Star Wars universe, with a new film proposed every year.

There’s JK Rowling’s Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them trilogy. Warner Bros has recently greenlit a second instalment off the back of advance hype for Eddie Redmayne’s performance as swashbuckling magizoologist Newt Scamander. But with its roots in a series of wildly whimsical children’s books, that saga looks likely to feature more playful themes than acolytes of Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones or Conan might be hoping to see on the big screen.

Some Tolkien fans are still holding out for an adaptation of the Silmarillion, or at least some of its more famous stories (The Tale of Beren and Lúthien, perhaps?). But given the manner in which Jackson brutally Hollywoodised the relatively accessible Hobbit, would we really want to see him let loose on the seminal high fantasy author’s rather more scholarly back catalogue? Even if Warner Bros could somehow buy the rights.

Judging by recent evidence, the New Zealand film-maker would probably feel it necessary to give Sauron a love interest, establishing that the nefarious demigod was only able to forge the evil One Ring with the help of his girlfriend at the time, a feisty orc lady named Fizbertha.

And yet, why should studios need to adapt specific works at all? The millions who turned out to see Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit did not all do so because they were au fait with Tolkien’s best-known books, while fewer still will have read The Silmarillion. Marvel has frequently triumphed by borrowing only minor story notes from its plentiful back catalogue of comic books. So why not create new adventures set in the world of Middle Earth, borrowing the English author’s world-building rules and lushly garlanded mythos, but steering the narrative into new territory?

Personally, I would much rather see an entirely original story than Jackson’s bumbling attempts to convert the gentle, fable-like Hobbit into a trilogy of blockbuster action movies. Then Hollywood could throw in as many preposterous interspecies romances as it likes – mate Gollum with an oliphaunt for all I care – without the hardcore fans among us shouting: “That was never in the book!”

Of course, Warner Bros may struggle to convince US courts that its rights to The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings also mean it has permission to develop new Tolkien stories. At least, not until the author’s works begin to go out of copyright in around 2050.

How about Conan? Robert E Howard created the raven-headed barbarian in the 1930s, so the books are out of copyright in many countries, which means, in theory, anyone can make a movie based on them. Marvel even published a series of Conan comics between 1970 and 2000, so it could be argued that the Disney-owned studio is the natural home for a saga based on his world.

And yet, the A Song of Ice and Fire series seems an even better bet for a swords and sorcery cinematic universe. Unlike Howard, who relied heavily on tales of Conan and his forebear Kull the Conqueror, Martin has established a multifarious fantasy sandpit of power-hungry lordlings, treacherous queens and menacing maesters for writers to play in.

From a prequel based on Robert’s Rebellion to the story of the Targaryens’ dragon-powered conquest of Westeros, or even a Tyrion: The Early Years saga, the possibilities are endless. The Tales of Dunk and Egg books would also make fine movies if studios wanted to go in a lighter-hearted direction than the TV show. There is so much for writers to play with here, especially as the civilisation introduced in Martin’s novels is said to have been in existence for more than 10,000 years.

Moreover, the author is still alive to give his blessing to Hollywood, and has shown himself to be remarkably relaxed about others taking his work and running with it. Game of Thrones, in particular, seems to be developing an ever-looser connection to the books.

Other fantasy fans will have their own favourites, of course – and I’d love to hear them. But please bear in mind that if we’re looking at Marvel or Star Wars as the templates for a functional cinematic universe, your swords and sorcery equivalent needs to be one which already boasts its own established audience.

The world of Game of Thrones already has that in spades. Now it’s just up to Martin and the Hollywood powers that be to get together and make it happen.

