52. Scene XLII
The Lay of Leithian Dramatic Script Project
TINUVIEL AT BAY: A CACCIA OF BELERIAND
SCENE LXII
Gower:
--Though memory a monument outlasting even hardest stone
eternal may endure, recollection of what once was known
is sharpest goad: a path of thorns, ever freshly sown--
[Luthien is sitting on the side of her bed, still with the shawl wrapped around her like a long veil, looking at Huan, who is lying in front of her with his chin on her knees. All the doors of the suite are opened, facing towards the main door, which is closed.]
Luthien:
It's hopeless. I can't dig my way out of here with embroidery needles, I can't work stone, I can't even command hearts now without access to my Power -- I've exhausted every scrap of possibility and I can't see any way out of here but divine intervention at this point. But the best I've ever been able to get has been divine nonintervention-- and that made no difference whatsoever, to my thinking, except to spare my mother one miserable scene out of more than I can count. They're going to die, and I'll never see Beren again, and I can't live without him. I've done my best -- and that's no consolation whatsoever.
Huan:
[short distressed whines]
Luthien: [taking his face in her hands]
I'm not blaming you. It wasn't your fault, and I can't begin to tell how grateful I've been for your friendship. I just don't know what to do, and -- I can't bear the waiting--
[she breaks off, her teeth clenched, breathing hard as she tries not to cry]
Finduilas: [calling through the door]
--Luthien? Luthien, you can't lock yourself in there and not see anyone -- it's not healthy! We're trying to help you. Luthien!
Luthien: [grimly ferocious]
That's not my name.
Finduilas: [exasperated]
Luthien! I'm not going to call you "Nightingale".
Luthien:
What do you want -- Sparkly?
Finduilas: [resigned]
Tinuviel. You've got to talk to someone.
Huan:
[single bark]
Finduilas:
And Huan doesn't count!
Luthien:
Go away, Finduilas, I don't want to talk to anyone -- I'm too upset to do anything but cry, or sleep.
[laughs quietly. To herself:]
Only this time -- it's true.
[after a few moments she sings very softly:]
My love said to me -- My mother won't mind
and my father won't slight you for your lack of kind --
Then she stepped away from me and this she did say
-- It will not be long, love, till our wedding day --
[as the verse ends she shakes her head, smiling bitterly and crying at the same time. She lies back on the bed and curls up on her side, sheltering her head with her arms and does not move. The lights of the City dim in accordance with the hours of darkness outside. Huan gets up and pads out of the room and out of the apartments, surprisingly quiet for such a huge creature.]
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.
