3. Scene II
The Lay of Leithian Dramatic Script Project
An Appointment in Menegroth
THE THRONE-ROOM SCENE OF THE LAY OF LEITHIAN
retold in the vernacular as a dramatic script
(with apologies to Messrs. Tolkien & Shakespeare)
let us turn aside from counsels of the great
and cast our thoughts upon the parting of the twain
whose love enduring should downcast
the powers of earth and e'en the gods . . .
[The hall before the main gates. Beren is pacing and ranting in nervous aftershock; Luthien holds his hand, anchoring him, compass-like]
- I had it all planned out. I was going to say --
'I've been engaged in a systematic program of destabilization targeted at the most vulnerable areas of Morgoth's regime, combined with a low-impact lifestyle which honors traditional Telerin folkways and combines high efficiency with respect for Arda.' That would have sounded halfway intelligent. And I completely lost it. I must have been hyperventilating: I thought there was this -- glowing light around your mother.
- You could see that? Most people don't notice.
- Y--your mom glows. --Why?
- It's only when she's using her Power. She doesn't try to show
off or act like she's different from Eldar, really.
- Beren: [confused]
- You're an Elf -- but she isn't?
- Luthien: [surprised]
- She's Maiar. Doesn't everyone know that?
- ! . . . !
[shaking his head]
I thought it was bad enough learning your father's the king -- now I find out your mother's a goddess --!
[starting to hyperventilate]
- It's okay. I think she likes you. The fact that you got past her Maze
without going mad means you're Good. --I pointed that out to my father.
- I'm afraid it didn't convince him.
- He really isn't like this. Well, he is sort of paranoid -- but he does have
reasons for that. Given that people keep ambushing and betraying and trying
to destroy us -- and those are our relatives, not the Dark Lord's minions.
- Beren: [starting to rant again]
- He doesn't think I have a chance -- but I can do it. I made it through the
borders; I can sneak into Angband. Frontal assault didn't work because it's
too obvious. Well, and the Dragon and the Balrogs and the being outnumbered
part of it, too. --Maybe I'll go disguised as a slave. They'll never expect
anyone trying to get in, not out . . .
- Beren, you don't have to prove anything to me. Let's just go.
We can take care of ourselves -- we don't need civilization.
- No. Your dad's right. I can't do that to you. Argh! Now I understand
my parents' dilemma. Poor Ma . . .
- I should go with you.
- No! If anything happened to you I'd kill myself. You -- you can't
imagine what it's like out there. The -- the spider-things and the
things with the eyes . . .
- But it's okay for you to go.
- Beren: [quietly]
- It's got to be easier the second time. And I've been doing it for years.
- Why don't you go ask Finrod Felagund for assistance? He likes humans,
and he owes your family. At least he'd give you supplies and maps.
- Good idea. I should have thought of that. --Are you going to be all right?
Are your parents going to make your life hell while I'm gone?
- What are they going to do? Lock me up in my room? I'm not a child of ninety.
- I wish we had some way to contact each other. Even a pair of those matching
knives like in stories. --You don't have anything like that here, do you?
- No, that's magic, not reality. --I should go with you. You need someone to
look after you --
- --Tinuviel, I'm coming back. No matter what happens, I'm coming back to you.
- I'm counting on it. I'll be waiting for you. Forever.
- And here we draw the curtain dark
across our scene of parting and desire;
Of all that follows after, legend and song alike recount,
to keep in mortal mem'ry what the gods remember still --
how Luthien the elven-maid, and Huan hound of heaven,
with Beren for love brought down the walls of hell
and freed the First-light from dark Morgoth's claws
and wove into the workings of the worldis Doom
a brightling strand that shineth yet, despite
(or through) the feeblest efforts of the bards.
asking your gracious pardon for this flight of fancy,
having proffered in hopes of gentle diversion,
we end this our humble file. Adieu!
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.