20. Scene III.ix
The Lay of Leithian Dramatic Script Project
BELOVED FOOL: BEYOND THE WESTERN SEA
[Elsewhere: the conference chamber.]
[Luthien is standing in the middle of the circle, halfway turned in the middle of a bout of pacing around the hearth-bowl, holding out her arms to her interlocutors in an indignant gesture.] Luthien:
. . . So now do you think, do you really think, I'm going to walk away from him after that? The Silmaril is meaningless. It's just complicating things in your minds. Forget about the Silmaril.
[long silence. No one seems to know where to look. Finarfin is looking as close to a shade as is possible for a living Elf.]
Your Majesty, are you ill?
[the King of the Noldor cannot answer at first]
My Lady -- I am.
[he closes his eyes, his right hand flat on the table, the left clenched.]
Would you like us to adjourn for a while, Sire?
[pause. All are looking at Finarfin, or trying politely not to -- Luthien appears a bit guilty]
This -- this matter is not news to thee, my Lady.
No, Your Majesty.
Finarfin: [shaking his head at himself]
But of course . . . of a certain, not.
I think I shall betake myself to walk but a whiles, gentles, if ye shall excuse mine absence. I'll return anon.
Don't trouble yourself about us, dear -- we'll manage quite adequately in your absence.
[Finarfin rises, with a distracted acknowledgment of her words, and turns towards the arched door]
Shall I come with you? If Este were here . . . but she isn't, so . . .
Finarfin: [a touch of sternness]
I will walk alone, I thank you.
--Will you be all right?
[he walks out into the shadows, very straight-backed, head held high, as though on his way to the block]
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