51. Scene XLI.ii
The Lay of Leithian Dramatic Script Project
TINUVIEL AT BAY: A CACCIA OF BELERIAND
SCENE XLI.ii
[The Hall of Morning: the late afternoon sunlight barely makes its way down the prisms of the roof to the gallery, giving it a strange subdued and reddish light Despite the sunset hour there are several people gathered there -- our seldom-seen (but sometimes glimpsed) not-quite-conspirators, or most of them. The Sage is standing, with a nervous air, and the Scribe has just risen from the bench across from the one where the Ranger is still seated; the Guard is nowhere to be seen.]
Scribe:
Did you succeed?
Sage: [shakes her head]
I -- the security was too tight. I couldn't get in.
[pause. They look at each other, and the Sage looks away.]
Scribe:
You didn't make the attempt. After all the work I went to making the duplicate--
Ranger:
--You didn't even try?
Sage: [ugly tone]
--How many horses did you secure for us?
[he shuts up]
Scribe:
What could they have done, if they'd caught you making the switch? Complain to the Regent? I told you I should have handled it--
Sage:
What you said, may I remind you, was that you were too closely connected through your cousin's consort and you'd be immediately associated with any loss--
Scribe: [nonplussed]
Well. Anyway, that's neither here nor there.
[rallying]
What were you afraid of? The public humiliation? Surely you don't think they could actually do anything to you?
Sage:
No, it isn't as though they've has ever killed or injured another of the Kindred -- what a ridiculous notion!
Scribe: [hurt]
You needn't be so sarcastic.
[They both look around for their missing fourth associate; the Ranger shakes his head.]
Ranger:
She was right . . . we're worse cowards than either of the sons of Feanor.
[No one disagrees with him; the light continues to dim on the malcontents of Nargothrond]
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