44. Scene XXXV
The Lay of Leithian Dramatic Script Project
TINUVIEL AT BAY: A CACCIA OF BELERIAND
Small, soft, and weak the feathered singer seems, yet let not one forget
far-ranging flights 'cross the wide world, above the winds, nor yet
the strength to stand the weather out, in storms, nor withal be overset--
[The outside of Luthien's apartments, leading into the solar, where the Sons of Feanor are just coming up the hallway with two of the door guards in tow.]
--What do you mean, it won't open?
No, milord, it will open -- it's just that no one can go through it.
--Except for Huan.
[Celegorm glares at him]
Sorry, sir, but it's true.
[They demonstrate by opening the door to the solar.]
So what's the problem?
[Without waiting for an answer he strides forward -- and encounters the same resistance effect that they hit before.]
? ? ?
[Luthien enters and sits down for a moment in the chair, then gets up and lays more splitwood on the fire before going back to work, apparently laying out the colors of embroidery silk that have been provided her for comparison across the table.]
What nonsense is this, Your Highness?
[she does not answer, just keeps working]
My lady Luthien!
[again no response]
Er -- that doesn't work, milord.
[Curufin gives him a daunting glare]
And what does?
[Embarrassed, the Guard beats loudly on the doorpanel, making a very undignified racket -- it gets worse, too, since she doesn't respond at once]
Guard: [trying to act as though he's not yelling at royalty]
Hey! Hey, you!
[Obviously anyone going by in the halls outside will not be able to ignore this. Luthien gets up and walks to the door, slowly, as though there were nothing unusual about any of it.]
Luthien: [glancing around]
Were you looking for someone, my lords?
Ah, yes -- for the Princess of Doriath, Thingol's daughter, one Luthien.
There is no one here who answers to that name, my lord.
You're standing right there, you crazy girl!
That is true. I am standing here.
[Luthien looks around the solar]
Damn! What game are you playing, my lady?
Oh, I am not playing. Not at all, my lords.
Who are you, then?
I am -- she that Beren loves.
You can't expect anyone to call you that!
Then call me by my right name.
[pause -- the brothers look at each other]
Luthien -- Tinuviel.
What -- what's this nonsense with the doors?
Surely you can explain that as well as I can -- or if not, your brother certainly should be able to.
[Celegorm is overcome with confusion]
Oh, now, let us be honest-- I have it on the noblest authority that you've no objection to being caught and held --
Luthien: [shaking her head, sighing]
Finduilas. I suppose she didn't tell you -- or perhaps you're not any better at listening than your elder brother -- that unlike either of you, Beren asked me, and never held me against my will or spoke me disrespectfully or made demand or gave command but was always patient and grateful of my presence--
[she breaks off; behind Curufin's back Celegorm winces and looks away]
Sounds more like a tame dog than any proper lord, eh, brother?
You're very brave to mock him when he's far from you.
You can't do this forever, you know.
I certainly should not need to.
You'll give it up in a bit, you'll get bored and regret this, believe me.
Well, we'll find out, won't we?
[She turns away and walks back to the table and sits down. As she goes back to what she was doing the camera reveals that she is copying the map from the round gallery, with different colors of thread for different geographical features, pinning them into the tabletop as she goes. Huan comes out of the private rooms, and seeing the Sons of Feanor, raises his hackles, growling in a low voice.]
[Luthien uses one pin as a compass and plots out a radius, folds the thread and compares it to other distances, shaking her head with a bitter expression. Curufin grabs his brother by the arm and hauls him away.]
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.