22. Scene XVII
The Lay of Leithian Dramatic Script Project
TINUVIEL AT BAY: A CACCIA OF BELERIAND
Fleeing ceremony and the affairs of state,
the princely artist ne'er can 'scape
the burdens of his blood, duty, nor fate--
[Luthien's chamber. Celebrimbor is setting a final piece of coving in place around the fountain just installed across from the bed, where it can be seen as well as heard. Some trouble has been taken to make it fit into the surrounding decoration, which he pauses to admire. When Huan comes in behind him he doesn't look around to see who it is.]
All right, you can turn the water on again, I've got everything connected up--
[starts when Huan breathes in his ear]
Oh! It's you. I thought you were one of the guards. --Don't, don't put your nose in that, I had to touch in some of the frieze around it and it's still wet in parts.
[the Hound gives him a reproachful Look and sits]
Sorry. I'm just so used to people being careless with my things. I guess the fact that you're back means my uncle's back as well, eh?
[Huan thumps the floor with his tail once and whines]
I suppose that answers my question -- am I going to this wretched affair tonight or not?
[sighs, gets up]
Well. I'll check this first, then head on over to Gwin's House. What joy.
[looks at Huan]
Aren't you coming?
[whining, lies down]
Celebrimbor: [lifts his hands]
If her Highness doesn't mind you underfoot, it's no business of mine what you do.
[looks around at the room again]
Superb . . . Somehow between "technical and organzational genius" and Orodreth's "terrifying warrior goddess" -- "intuitively brilliant artist" seems to have gotten overlooked. Not that I imagine she'd give me so much as a "good day" after this . . .
It's not as if I had anything to do with it, or as if I could have done anything -- Can you begin to understand what it's like, being the only person in our family with even the barest capacity for empathy? It's hellish. Everyone assumes that I approve of Grandfather and the rest of the lunatics without even bothering to ask, and even my friends who know better are treating me as though first of all I must have known in advance, and secondly as though I must benefit from it. And you know what that means? Half of them won't speak to me, and the rest are too polite, and I can't figure out which of them want me to put in good words for them--
--as if that would help them! -- and which ones are afraid of me now. Oh, the honour of belonging to House Feanor -- it's almost more than I can stand.
[He turns, realizing that someone has entered the chamber and is witnessing his rant]
[he looks around the room, confirming that no one besides Huan is present]
Er -- you -- you did want the water turned back on, did you not?
As a matter of fact I was on the verge of coming to do it myself. --Should I?
No, sir, I'll . . . take care of it.
[he leaves, but can't help checking one last time. Celebrimbor shakes his head and laughs bitterly before beginning to put away his tools.]
You don't know how lucky you are, being a Hound. No conflicts of loyalty, no agonizing decisions for you, just to be happy doing a job you love!
[Huan sighs, putting his head down on his paws]
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.