2. Scene I
The Lay of Leithian Dramatic Script Project
An Appointment in Menegroth
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THE THRONE-ROOM SCENE OF THE LAY OF LEITHIAN
retold in the vernacular as a dramatic script
(with apologies to Messrs. Tolkien & Shakespeare)
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- Gower:
- Now
envision wide upon this meager screen,
the lofty arches of deep Doriath,
where Elu Thingol, gray King of Elves
and Melian the Wise his wife
whose birth precedes the eldest stars,
hold high court before their host.
--Let thy mind
make of our panel white and keystrokes black
Shining caverns, enlumened all with bright
lamps of white gems all fashioned fair
upheld by dragons carved and gilt,
and water flowing o'er the stone
like to a grotto fashioned of the gods
where birds do sing beneath no sun --
Here,
into the shade of the holy trees
Luthien Tinuviel doth lead her love,
Beren the wanderer from out the woods,
before her mother musing and infuriate sire
before the assemblage of her friends and kin
and doubtful Daeron that betray'd of love . . .
- Luthien:
- Mom, Dad -- this is my fiance, Beren.
- Thingol:
- Well, well, well. So you're the fellow who's been camping in my woods
this past year. How did you get past the security system?
- Beren:
- Um?
[distracted by the spears/crowd/nightingales/jewels/waterfall/trees/Melian]
How . . .? I, er, just, erm, kept walking, and . . . then I was here.
- Thingol: [thinking]
- --Yeah, right.
[aloud]
So, --Beren, is it? --what do you do for a living?
- Beren:
- Orcs. Um. I, uh, I hunt them. Sir. [winces]
- Thingol:
- Really. And do you foresee a long-term career in this . . . admirable
venture of yours?
- Beren: [desperate flippancy]
- Well, I expect I'll be doing it the rest of my life.
- Thingol: [not amused]
- And this should impress me why?
- Beren:
- Well, my dad was a good friend of the King of Nargothrond,
saved his life at the Siege of Angband, and they say I take
after Da -- I might be useful to have around, is all I'm saying.
- Thingol: [biting sarcasm]
- In case you hadn't noticed, this isn't Nargothrond -- or do I look
like Finrod Felagund to you?
- Beren:
- I, I don't know, sir; I've never met King Finrod --
- Thingol: [forced patience]
- --That was a rhetorical question, boy. I'm saying I don't care
who your friends-and-relations are, I want to know what you
have to offer my daughter. I didn't raise Luthien to be a beggar
or a gangster's moll -- I expect her to take over the administration
of Doriath after me. We have lots of people who can kill Orcs,
and with eons more experience than you've got, so I don't really
see a place for your talents in our organization.
- Beren:
- Well, my parents ran a realm too, not as big as this, but nevertheless --
- Thingol: [losing it]
- Silence! Impertinent puppy! Can you give me one good reason why
I shouldn't throw you into the labyrinth and delete the key? Do
you really expect me to believe that you've just been taking music
lessons from my daughter in the forest? I should chop you into
pieces and chop the pieces into pieces! --unfortunately, you'd miss
most of it --
- Beren: [nervously]
- Um, I know this isn't the best time to remind you, but Tinuviel
did say you'd promised me a safe conduct . . .
[pause]
- Thingol: [lethally]
- Who's Tinuviel?
- Beren:
- . . .
- Luthien: [exasperated]
- It's my nickname, Daddy. Like yours is Thingol. Because of my singing.
And you did promise. In front of witnesses.
- Thingol: [raising voice]
- --but as I was about to say, I stupidly promised her that I wouldn't
kill or maim you (I can't think why, all she does is look at me and
I give her whatever she asks for) but that doesn't mean I can't find
other ways to keep you from getting at her, you empty-handed vagabond--
- Melian: [mindspeech]
- Ahem. Elu.
- Thingol: [mindspeech]
- --Yes, dear?
- Melian: [mindspeech]
- The good news is -- that he isn't a brainwashed slave sent here by
our Enemy to assassinate you, kidnap Luthien or corrupt Doriath.
- Thingol: [mindspeech]
- Hmph. What's the bad?
- Melian: [mindspeech]
- That he isn't a brainwashed slave sent here by our Enemy to
assassinate you, kidnap Luthien or corrupt Doriath.
- Thingol:
- !?. . . !?
- Melian: [mindspeech]
- He's just a boy who's fallen in love with a stranger
he met in the woods.
[longish pause]
- Thingol: [mindspeech]
- --It was different for us...
- Melian: [mindspeech, sighing]
- It's always different...
[Simultaneous w/previous exchange: Enter the two chief warriors of Doriath.]
- Beleg:
- All right, all right, what's all the fuss?
- Mablung:
- Daeron, old boy! Fill us in!
[Daeron gives a guilty start and almost drops his flute]
- Daeron:
- Erm. Hullo, chaps. It's that Man you were all out looking for.
He just turned up. --How did he get past you?
-
- How indeed? We figured he'd jumped the gate and made a run for it. Done a bunk, as it were.
- How indeed? We figured he'd jumped the gate and made a run for it. Done a bunk, as it were.
- Mablung:
- Right. When was the last time anyone got past us, Strongbow?
- Beleg: [thinking]
- Mm, seventy-four years ago. That wolf light-cavalry unit down the
cliffs on the other side. Didn't get far, though.
- Mablung:
- You sure it's been that long?
- Beleg:
- Sure I'm sure.
- Mablung:
- I don't remember all of that -- I think you've got an extra
decade in there.
- Beleg:
- No, that was the winter before the winter that the borders
got four cubits of snow and five of those things with six legs
and two heads.
- Mablung:
- Anybody know what those things are? What are they called,
anyway? Daeron?
[Daeron gives a guilty start]
You're the bard around here -- don't you know?
- Beleg:
- What's wrong with 'those things with six legs and two heads?'
or better yet, 'those dead things with six legs and two heads' --?
[Melian gives them a Look, and they quiet down. The conversation regarding a suitable dowry is just concluding.]
- Beren:
- So, if I brought back all three of them, and you had three
daughters, would you let me marry all of them? --Just curious,
sounds like a real bargain on elf-princesses--
- Luthien: [stage whisper]
- Beren! Shush! I don't know how long it would take me to get
you out of the labyrinth -- it might take a hundred years!
[Beren hushes up.]
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.
