4. Epilogue
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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[Outside the opening of the Caverns leading to the Palace. To either side lean the Captain and Bowman of Doriath; they are playing a game similar to 'Rock-Scissors-Paper' but with edged aerial objects.]
- Beleg: [between throws, leadingly]
- Oh, oh, wait -- I know what they are.
- Mablung:
- What?
- Beleg:
- In a word? --Fell.
- Mablung:
- Heh.
[Beren enters through the gates, slowly, looking backwards, oblivious to the knives being tossed to and fro.]
- Beleg:
- Careful there --
[In a flash Beren transforms from distracted lover to superwarrior, spinning round and drawing sword and dagger at once to ward against all comers. Seeing the Doriath Rangers he remains in guard position while he speaks.]
- Beren:
- What are you doing here?
- Beleg: [reasonably]
- Waiting.
- Beren:
- For what?
- Beleg:
- Just waiting.
- Beren: [lowers blades but does not put them up]
- You're here to see that I leave the grounds promptly and without
any trouble, right?
- Beleg: [shrugs]
- Something like that, yes.
- Beren:
- Something exactly like that, I'll bet.
- Beleg:
- Clever lad. You'll go far, I shouldn't doubt.
- Beren:
- Don't.
- Mablung: [sotto voce]
- But will you come back again, I wonder?
- Beren:
- Nothing -- and no one -- is going to stop me. --I don't expect
you to believe me.
- Mablung:
- So you're really off to infiltrate Morgoth's bunker? Defy the Lord
of Paranoids himself, succeed where even Feanor (not to mention the
Great of Arda) went down in flames?
- Beren: [defensive]
- Yup.
- Mablung: [guessing wildly]
- And you're what, all of fifty summers?
- Beren: [still more defensive]
- Twenty-five. I think. --Wish me luck, why don't you?
- Mablung: [seriously]
- Oh, we do. We do indeed.
- Beren: [disbelieving]
- Hmph.
[He turns and starts to walk off.]
- Beleg:
- Ah, not to be overly critical, but Angband's that way, not the way
you're going.
- Mablung:
- --Unless he's thinking of swinging by Nargothrond first.
- Beren:
- Clever fellow. Any final words of advice or farewell?
- Beleg:
- Hm...'Be careful'?
- Mablung:
- 'Good luck' ?
- Beleg:
- --Yourself?
- Beren:
- Tell them that I won't come back empty-handed, and that they will
see me again.
- Mablung:
- Beren.
[They lock stares. Pause.]
--The light of Elbereth go with you.
- Beren: [serious]
- Thank you . . . Sir. --Look after her for me.
- Mablung:
- We always do.
- Beleg: [sotto voce]
- We try, at any rate.
[Beren looks round, pulls himself together, and vanishes into the forest.]
- Beleg:
- Did you see how he did that?
- Mablung:
- You neither, eh? --Twenty-five.
[shakes head]
- Beleg:
- Think we'll see him again?
- Mablung: [shrugs]
- I'm no seer.
- Beleg:
- Same here. Definitely. Herself, as well.
- Mablung:
- You saw that too, eh? What do you think will come of it all?
- Beleg:
- Oh, death, destruction, woe and lamentation.
- Mablung:
- The usual, then. --This place is starting to get to me
again. Up for a warg-hunt, Strongbow old chap?
- Beleg:
- Silly question. Whenever not?
[They leave, strolling leisurely. Luthien appears in the doorway.]
- Luthien: [softly]
- Beren, you've made me see time as a mortal woman does. It's
been an hour already! How will I survive a day -- a week --
a year? Come back soon, my love, and safe, or I promise you
I'll follow you to the ends of Middle-earth -- or the stars.
[fade to black]
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.
