The Great Tales of Beleriand: Definitive Edition by Chilled in Hithlum

Part Thirteen: The Gift Corrupted

Sauron offers a prisoner the chance of 'escape' from Tol-in-Gaurhoth...

THE GREAT TALES OF BELERIAND
 
 
PART THIRTEEN: THE GIFT CORRUPTED…
 
 
Tol-in-Gaurhoth, autumn…
 
 
[A tall figure passes serenely along a dimly lit corridor and approaching a dead end he reaches the furthest door along.  He holds two bags: one a short handled hempen sack, quite full but showing only tattered clothing pressed in at the top, the other a neat black messenger bag with a trailing shoulder strap slapping the ground…]
 
The feign voice of Annatar: “Am I not a benevolent Lord?”
 
[Stopping, he places the bags on the floor; but carefully, so as to avoid the dim pool of light seeping under the door sliver…]
 
The feign voice of Annatar: “Am I not bright?”
 
[He brushes down his Elven garments, inserts the key and the heavy door clicks open; he flinches against the daylight…]
 
The feign voice of Annatar: “Am I not beautiful?”
 
[Entering the cell that he has caused to be made homely, Sauron cannot help but expel a snigger; low yet still audible…]  
 
The feign voice of Annatar: “Am I not dutiful?”
 
[Within sit two women: one at table, Eilinel, Wife of Gorlim, and the other in the dimmest corner wearing the habits of a Vardan Vesta, a Sister of Starlight…] 
 
Sauron: “Ladies, I regret that I cannot tarry, the proprietor will soon miss me if I am gone from his service overlong; I trust you are both… getting along?”
 
Thuringwethil: “Eminently, Gentle Sir, we have much to talk about…”
 
Eilinel: “However did you arrange it?” 
 
Sauron: “Bribery, My Dear; I could not countenance your being alone another night longer.  It is remarkable what illicit wine from the master’s stores will afford one with thirsty gaolers.  Ah, that reminds me…”
 
[He reaches into the pockets of his tunic and produces a flat bottle…] 
 
Sauron: “Am I right that the sisters of your order take wine; will claret suffice?  I trust it will be enough to see you through - Sister?”
 
Thuringwethil: “Rodwen!”
 
Sauron: “Rodwen… hmm?  I do hope that all this sinful talk of bribery and liquor is not an offence to your ears Good Sister…” 
 
[Half-smirking, he hands Thuringwethil the bottle…]
 
Thuringwethil: “All actions begun in kindness redound to the Glory of Ilúvatar!”
 
[He nods and winks slightly at that answer and then turns his attention to Eilinel…]
 
Sauron: “Do you imbibe, Sweet One?”
 
Eilinel: “No, no thank you!”
 
Sauron: “Very wise and a good thing too methinks…”
 
Eilinel: “How so Lord Annatar?”
 
Sauron: “Oh, no reason…clarity of vision and such.  Eilinel, be a dear and draw down those blinds!”
 
[She complies at once, whereafter Sauron looks behind each shoulder theatrically and pretends to check the door.  He brings in the bags and reaching into his pockets once again he extracts a rolled up bundle of cloth which he places on the table.  He pats the bundle affectedly and with an exquisite wave of farewell he leaves, not forgetting to lock the door behind him…]  
 
The feign voice of Annatar: “Time to go, Sweet Eilinel, time to go…” 
 
Eilinel: “What is it?”
 
Thuringwethil: “Pray open it and see!”
 
[Eilinel carefully unfolds the cloth in which she finds a rolled up parchment tied with string.  She picks it up to open it but something heavy slides out from within and clatters on the table giving her a jolt…]
 
Eilinel: “A key, what can this mean?”
 
[Thuringwethil standing behind rolls her eyes in exasperation…]
 
Thuringwethil: “It is upon us to seek answers howsoever they present themselves!”
 
[The counterfeit Vardan Vesta takes up the parchment, nimbly snapping the strings with strong nails; it is a diagram which she expands across the tabletop revealing yet another smaller scroll within.  Upon the outer side of this is written one word in a fine swirling hand - EILINEL.  The letter enclosed reads…]
 
 
MY DEAR EILINEL,
 
I CAN NO LONGER JUSTIFY TO MYSELF ANY FURTHER IDLENESS WHILST ONE WHOM I NOW LOOK UPON AS A FRIEND ENDURES NEEDLESSLY.  IT HAS NOT ESCAPED ME THAT MORTALS FARE BADLY UNDER INCARCERATION AND DESERVE NOT TO PERISH INNOCENTLY IN PRISON SIMPLY BECAUSE OF THE WARS THE IMMORTALS.  WHILST IT IS NOT UPON ME TO FREE ALL THE PRISONERS IN THIS KEEP, WHICH AT ANY RATE I COULD NOT DO WITHOUT AROUSING SUSPICION; I CHOOSE TO DARE IN ASSISTING WITH YOUR ESCAPE AND THAT OF YOUR COMPANION.  CERTAINLY IT IS AT GREAT RISK THAT I SEND YOU A MAP OF THE TOWER AND DOOR KEY BUT YOUR NEED FAR EXCEEDS MY OWN; FOR AT THE VERY LEAST MY LONGEVITY AFFORDS ME THE POSSIBILITY OF A BRIGHTER TOMORROW.  AND IF THAT IS MY HOPE THEN SURELY I AM HONOUR BOUND TO SHARE IT WITH YOU - MY FRIEND.     
 
I HAVE LEARNED THAT THE PROPRIETOR OF THIS ESTABLISHMENT PLANS TO JOURNEY NORTH ON THE MORROW AND HAS ALREADY CALLED IN MANY OF HIS TROOPS TO ACCOMPANY HIM.  THIS IS A RARE CHANCE, EILINEL, SINCE THE EASTERN FLANK LEADING TO YOUR HOME WILL BE MUCH LESS GUARDED.  NOW, YOU WILL SEE ON THE PLANS PROVIDED THAT I HAVE CHARTED A WAY OUT TOWARDS THE EAST POSTERN LEADING BEYOND TO THE SELDOM OCCUPIED TERRITORY NIGH TO THE EAGLE’S RANGE.  I HAVE NOTED ON MY ROUNDS THAT THE SWITCHING OF GUARDS AT THIS GATE TAKES THE LONGEST AMOUNT OF TIME JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT, THIS IS INDEED FORTUNATE SINCE IT PROVIDES FOR THE COVER OF DARKNESS.  I STRONGLY ADVISE THAT YOU TRAVEL ONLY AT NIGHT AND REMAIN UNDER COVER BY DAY TO AVOID PRYING EYES.  
 
IN THE BAG YOU WILL NOTICE ENOUGH FOOD TO SEE YOU HOME; IT IS ONLY KITCHEN SCRAPS ALAS, NOT MUCH I KNOW, BUT THERE IT IS.  EILINEL, WEAR THESE TATTERS, COVER YOUR HEAD AND DIRTY YOUR FACE; FOR IT IS BY NO MERE CHANCE THAT I HAVE SELECTED THIS PARTICULAR COMPANION TO AID IN YOUR ENDEAVOUR.  WHO BETTER THAN A VARDAN VESTA AND HER NOVICE TO GO UN-HARRIED ON THE ROAD?  IF ALL GOES WELL I WILL BE ABLE TO HOLD OFF ANY REPORT OF YOUR GOING UNTIL THE PROPRIETOR RETURNS; TAKE HEART EILINEL, I SHALL CONTRIVE A CONCEIT FOR HIM IN THE ENSUING DAYS TO COME.  HOWEVER, FOR MY OWN SAFETY I URGE YOU TO STUDY THE PLAN CAREFULLY AND COMMIT IT TO MEMORY SINCE I WILL REQUIRE YOU TO BURN IT ALONG WITH THIS MISSIVE - I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAND! 
 
IN SINCERE FRIENDSHIP,
 
ANNATAR, LG.
 
 
[Dumbfounded, Eilinel passes the letter to her counterpart; at length she speaks…] 
 
Eilinel: “Surely, this is too good to be true…”
 
Thuringwethil: “Why say you that?”
 
Eilinel: “That all these pieces should fall together at one time; do you not find it odd?”  
 
Thuringwethil: “It is the providence of Ilúvatar!”
 
Eilinel: “I have seen no evidence of that in recent years.”
 
Thuringwethil: “O Child, think what you are saying!”
 
Eilinel: “It is your Elvish Doctrine that has dragged us all into war in the first place!  If the so-called Loving Hand of Ilúvatar caused all creation to come into being then why has there been so much tumult from the onset?”
 
[Thuringwethil finds herself somewhat stumped being unaccustomed to theological debate, especially in the defence of her sworn foe; in the event she sits in sombre repose for a moment…]
 
Thuringwethil: “In faith we find inner strength and a reason to strive…”  
 
Eilinel: “You sound just like Gorlim did; he clung to all that too…” 
 
Thuringwethil: “Gorlim: is that he of whom you spoke of so lovingly last night?”
 
Eilinel: “My husband yes, although it should be said of him that duty comes before aught else!”
 
Thuringwethil: “You speak often of him in both the past and present tense; do you not know whether he yet lives?” 
 
Eilinel: “I have learnt naught of the wider-world being held here these past months.”
 
Thuringwethil: “Yet you have been treated kinder than most…”
 
Eilinel: “Thanks only to the consideration and provender of Annatar!”
 
Thuringwethil: “Is it not then such a leap to witness the providence of our beliefs?”
 
Eilinel: “Twisting words against me, how predictable!”
 
Thuringwethil: “You think me some sort of pious fanatic?”
 
Eilinel: “Yes… No… you mean well enough, I do not know!”
 
Thuringwethil: “Is not well meaning enough under these constraints?”
 
Eilinel: “It is a start I suppose!”
 
Thuringwethil: “Good… then we shall start from there.  You have endured much I can see that, much too much for one your age; but surely you would be with Gorlim again if there was the remotest chance would you not?”
 
Eilinel: “Of course…”
 
Thuringwethil: “Look then at what you know: a well meaning friend has stated clearly his reasons for wanting to help you and has provided the means to do so at the best time possible.  All other things aside, is this not worth grasping with both hands?”
 
Eilinel: “I know what you would say to me and… but I…”
 
Thuringwethil: “All too often it is said that fear and doubt is sinful, although I know not where it is written; but wastefulness on the other hand, especially in great need, is not only sinful it is stupidity!”
 
Eilinel: “No more doctrine!”
 
Thuringwethil: “I promise…”    
 
Eilinel: “Very well, let us be gone from this place!”    
 
The feign voice of Annatar: “Fly, Eilinel, fly away home: the road ahead is quite safe!  And you too Thuringwethil, but not on batwings - oh no; take the pilgrim’s way and fare on foot, perhaps you may learn a little humility!”  
 
[The escapees flee as directed, but in heading toward the Crissaegrim they do not go unnoticed; an Eagle flies northward…]
 
 
The Pass of Anach…
 
 
[In the remaining dark of the second night the travellers arrive at the southern reaches of Dorthonion nigh to the Encircling Mountains…]  
 
Eilinel: “See I told you, the old watchman’s lodge; it was abandoned after the Great Burning.  Come, we shall get a fire on!” 
 
Thuringwethil: “Go on ahead; I would be alone a moment to offer my devotions…”
 
[At the soonest opportunity Thuringwethil retrieves a flask of ‘claret’ from her bag and drinks greedily, then another; and being of her particular order she leaves no trace of red.  At length she enters the somewhat austere lodge furnished only with a heavy oaken table, no chairs, a belly-stove and some logs; already a fire crackles merrily…] 
 
Thuringwethil: “We need to black out the window if you are to keep that fire going…]
 
[By a happy chance the tabletop doesn’t overhang the legs; therefore the companions tip it over on one side and with a grinding slide across the floor they butt it square against the window wall…]
 
Eilinel: “You have not yet eaten; here, there is plenty to share…”
 
Thuringwethil: “I am not hungry… <not for kitchen scraps at any rate> …besides, my folk can endure much longer without food!”
 
Eilinel: “But surely…”
 
Thuringwethil: “I have enough to sustain me in my bag… <barely> …berries and such; go on, eat!” 
 
[Eilinel tucks in…]
 
Eilinel: “Do you plan to return in the morning?”
 
Thuringwethil: “To where, have we not just escaped imprisonment?”
 
Eilinel: “Home to Doriath, it lies just south of here…”
 
Thuringwethil: “Oh I see, no not yet; first I must see you home safely.” 
 
Eilinel: “Will not Mother Melian be missing one of the Order of Varda?  Come to think of it I have not asked how it was that you left there and came into captivity…”
 
Thuringwethil: “Alas, the grief for me is all too near!   A delegation of sisters set out on pilgrimage to the Havens for the Feast of the Equinox; it is a great honour to be chosen for this since the stars shine clearer on those shores than anywhere else in Middle-earth, and the towers there offer wondrous views to the reverent.  But for us this was not to be!  It happened nigh to the Springs of Ivrin on the journey across: we were assailed by a party of Orcs who slew us all - all save me!  For you see I fought them, Eilinel, I fought with all the strength in me; even so I was overcome at the last, and one…  excuse me… and one of them bore down on me…”
 
[She pauses for effect…]
 
Eilinel: “O Rodwen, I am sorry…”
 
Thuringwethil: “I would have gladly departed my body then and there but the Orc Captain stopped my brutish assailant ere he did his worst upon me; I can only guess that the captain wanted some proof of his account!  From that hellish meeting I came to the dungeons of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, where but for the kindness of Annatar I doubt that I would have survived…”  
 
Eilinel: “I feel so wretched for having you relive all that…”
 
Thuringwethil: “Let us speak of it no more; tell me something of cheer, tell me of Gorlim!”
 
Eilinel: “Gorlim, Gorlim, I have known him since childhood; he and his father, Angrim, were among the last of the mannish-folk to remove from Estolad to Ladros.  His mother had recently died and he looked as a wounded creature to my eyes; I expect it was pity at first but I simply took him to my heart.  Truth is, he was unready to accept caring from another font and he did not much like me; but I persevered, I would tease him unmercifully, rarely letting him out of my sight howsoever he tried to escape me…”
 
[She laughs softly and sighs…]  
 
Eilinel: “He is not what one would call particularly handsome and I am not altogether certain that his lineage is wholly of the First House as Angrim maintained, for Gorlim is quite fair-haired for one of our folk…”
 
[She instinctively reaches to her own hair before realising that it is covered up…]   
 
Eilinel: “Not altogether straw-haired mind; but certainly fairer than most!  Now, it was not until his father grew sick for the first time that we really associated with each other, for you see I had always wanted to gain knowledge of healing and…” 
 
[Thuringwethil rapidly loses interest, realising too late that she has overshot her aim; insomuch that the telling a woeful tale of one’s own and asking another to share their’s with you often provokes them do so… in laborious detail!] 
 
Thuringwethil: “Quiet, what was that?”
 
Eilinel: “What, what is it?”
 
Thuringwethil: “I am certain I heard something; stay here, I will check outside!”
 
[She prowls in vexation outside the lodge, muttering curses; meanwhile Eilinel shrinks into a ball between the legs of the propped up table, for as one accustomed to hiding she knows that shadow is the last option when there is no other cover.  Thuringwethil contorts in silent frustration at the absence of her bag, though at length she remembers the flask that Sauron gave to her in the cell, the remainder of which is still on her person; she gulps it down with a wretch…]
 
Thuringwethil: “Save me from infernal girlish prattle and fusty blood!” 
 
[She would abandon her task but the slinking dawn threatens the night sky compelling her to return indoors…]
 
Eilinel: “I heard some commotion, what did you find?”
 
Thuringwethil: “A mountain goat I believe, it must have strayed onto the foothills, it was too far off to be certain; and in any event it ran off…”
 
Eilinel: “You seem quite shaken!”
 
Thuringwethil: “I am fine…”
 
Eilinel: “Very well, where was I…?”
 
Thuringwethil: “You know, perhaps I am a little shaken… time to rest I think!”  
 
The true voice of Sauron: “Humility I am told is a desirable trait in others, I for one cannot see the attraction; it is said that it garners inner strength but I do not believe it.  Give me fear over frustration, for the bent will breaks a weak spirit every time!”
 
[The morning’s thin glory swathes chilly Beleriand; and to the south in the Forest of Neldoreth Thingol and Melian offer their early morning dedication; as always they are joined by nightingale song in their Incantation of the Sun…]   
 
 
The Halls of Menegroth…
 
 
[Thingol and Melian returning are met by Mablung…]
 
Thingol: “Mablung, what brings you forth so early?
 
Mablung: “This message, Majesties, it has upon it the seal of the Noldorin King!”
 
Thingol: “Oh I see, hmm… thank you Captain, I trust we shall see you at breakfast!” 
 
[Melian nods courteously and with a bow Mablung leaves them.  Thingol languidly looks at the Seal of Fingon on the envelope and with a fat puff of air flops his arm down by his side, the unopened letter swinging between his forefinger and thumb…] 
 
Melian: “Well, are you not going to open it?”
 
Thingol: “Here you read it; I care not for this missive!”
 
[She refuses the handover…]
 
Melian: “It has the royal seal and is addressed to you alone; besides, how can that which is unknown trouble you or not?”  
 
Thingol: “Very well, as usual I am sure you are right…”
 
[Melian looks askance at her husband as he breaks the seal: the letter reads…]
 
 
ELWË, KING.
 
FIRST OF ALL MAY I EXPRESS MY WARMEST GREETINGS TO YOU, THE QUEEN AND YOUR ENTIRE HOUSEHOLD; I PRAY THAT THIS MESSAGE FINDS YOU ALL WELL.  IT HAS BEEN FAR TOO LONG SINCE WE LAST CORRESPONDED AND IT IS REGRETTABLE TO ME THAT OUR KINDREDS HAVE FALLEN INTO ESTRANGEMENT.  INDEED IF THIS WERE NOT SO THEN PERHAPS WE MIGHT DEVISE TOGETHER A LESS PRIMITIVE WAY OF COMMUNICATING ONE TO THE OTHER…
 
 
Melian: “When I said read it, I meant aloud!”
 
Thingol: “Oh it is just customary drivel; I swear he opens with that same paragraph every time…”
 
Melian: “Every time; how many dozens of letters is that now?”
 
Thingol: “Alright, both times!  Greetings and health to you and yours - can we not talk more, and so on…”
 
Melian: “Read it, Thingol!”
 
 
I WRITE TO YOU NOW WITH NEWS THAT MAY CONCERN YOU THOUGH I FEAR IT COULD ARRIVE TOO LATE FOR YOU TO TAKE ANY ACTION.  ON THE MORNING THAT I PENNED THIS MESSAGE WORD REACHED ME THAT ON THE PREVIOUS NIGHT TWO WOMEN FLED FROM THE STRONGHOLD OF TOL-IN-GAURHOTH.  THEY HEADED SOUTHEAST AND IT SOON BECAME APPARENT THAT THEY INTENDED TO TAKE REFUGE IN THE MOUNTAINS NIGH TO SIRION.  IT IS NOT THIS CURIOUS ESCAPE THAT HAS PROMPTED ME TO WRITE BUT RATHER IT IS THE APPEARANCE OF THE WOMEN THEMSELVES, FOR THEY FLED IN THE ATTIRE OF A VARDAN VESTA AND NOVICE.  IT IS WELL KNOWN ON THE ROAD THAT THE PILGRIM SISTERS OF STARLIGHT ARE SACRED TO QUEEN MELIAN SO THEREFORE I ENTRUST THIS NEWS TO YOUR FACTOR.
 
NOW, WHILST I AM CERTAIN THAT YOU ARE AWARE THAT THE EAGLES OF THE CRISSAEGRIM KEEP WATCH OVER THE NORTHLANDS FOR MANWË, I AM UNSURE  WHETHER OR NOT YOU KNOW THAT THEY PASS ALONG NEWS TO CERTAIN OF THE NOLDORIN HOUSES; I MENTION THIS SIMPLY BECAUSE THIS IS THE SOURCE FROM WHICH MY INFORMATION CAME.  
 
 
IN SERVICE,
 
FINGON, HKN.     
 
 
[Thingol screws up the letter and tosses it aside…]
 
Thingol; “We have Eagles in our service - the pompous swine!”
 
[Melian stoops to retrieve it…]
 
Melian: “Ever do you permit preconception to narrow your view; Elu, will you not abandon this destructive practice?”
 
Thingol: “…’twas neither the Grey nor the Green who caused this kin-strife!”
 
Melian: “Nay, but ’tis the Grey King who abounds its furtherance!” 
 
[Thingol appears both angry and wounded at the same time…] 
 
Melian: “That was harsh and rash, please forgive me!  
 
[He takes her extended hand…]
 
Melian: “Thingol, I doubt not the sincerity of this communiqué for it contains grave news if you would but heed it!” 
 
Thingol: “How so?”
 
Melian: “The vestas are all accounted for and we have not taken in novices for four years now, not since the Bragollach!”
 
Thingol: “If the sisterhood is whole then surely all is well…”
 
Melian: “It troubles me that our foe would employ the garb of one of their order; to what end, Thingol, should he do this?”
 
Thingol: “As the Noldo said they are well known on the road; besides they dress distinctively my love, in attire which could easily be replicated!”
 
Melian: “I know… that is what concerns me!”
 
Thingol: “Do you fear treachery from within… or treachery without perhaps?”
 
Melian: “I fear that always from Tol-in-Gaurhoth!  One moment please…”
 
[She smoothes out the letter against her thigh and reads it in silence…]     
 
Melian: “You are right, Thingol, I do foresee treachery here and a cruel one at that; it is for this so-called novice that I fear for the most, alas, her fate is all but sealed!  Dark wheels are turning beloved, and I cannot envisage how even we here in this seclusion will escape them…”
 
Thingol: “How near is this peril?”
 
Melian: “Far but all too near, it is difficult to tell!  One thing is certain though, the ripples of this particular treachery will lead to these very halls; for my prophecy to Galadriel will come to pass within the next five years, and one of Men shall come unbidden to Doriath and the Girdle will not withstand him!”
 
Thingol: “Then we must find this novice, and quickly - I shall dispatch Beleg and Mablung to scour the mountains, I shall even beseech the Eagles for aid!”  
 
Melian: “Alack it is as King Fingon guessed; the news has arrived over-late!  But there is hope in this: nowhere does the prophecy state whether this man’s coming will be for good or ill, and never since its making has this part ever been revealed to me though I continue to ask, even until this day.  I deem now that sometimes it is good not to know certain things ahead of time!”
 
Thingol: “Then if the board is set there is naught else to do but be vigilant and let the pieces move as they will; come my love, let us break our fast!”   
 
 
Night in Dorthonion…
 
 
[The walkers arrive at the house of Eilinel and Gorlim, all is dark; they enter in and Eilinel fumbles for tallow to light.  On a sudden she hears a finger click and the far corner of the room illumines.  Sat there in an armchair is a dark robed figure of whom she vaguely recognises…]
 
Sauron: “Looking for this?”
 
[He gestures towards the tallow candle on the occasional table beside him…] 
 
Eilinel: “Who are you, why are you here?”
 
Sauron: “Come now, I know that I am a master of deception but surely you know me; step a little closer my dear sweet Eilinel!”
 
Eilinel: “Lord Annatar - but how?”
 
[He wittingly pinches the bridge of his nose at the brow and removing his fingers sprinkles away invisible dust…]
 
Sauron: “You really have no idea do you?”
 
[Thuringwethil kicks the back of Eilinel’s leg forcing her to ground…]
 
Thuringwethil: “Kneel before Lord Sauron!”
 
Eilinel: “Sauron!”
 
[He nods coldly; Eilinel looks behind in disbelief at her fellow traveller…]
 
Sauron: “And this, sweet one, is my attendant Sister Thuringwethil!”
 
Eilinel: “You are no Vardan Vesta!”
 
[Her tormentors laugh…]
 
Thuringwethil: “Shall I drink, Lord?”
 
Sauron: “All in good time, I would…”
 
[Eilinel chances a break for the door, though she is soon overpowered, thrown down and held fast…]
 
Sauron: “Really, is this how your Elven betters taught you how treat with visitors; to run out on them at the soonest prospect?” 
 
Thuringwethil: “This one subscribes not to Elvish teaching, Lord, or their beliefs; she said so herself…”
 
Sauron: “How amusing, there was I thinking to provide moral succour on the last leg of your journey; ha, and all the while the irony was lost…”
 
Eilinel: “Get twisted, you filth!”
 
Sauron: “Oh I fully intend to… but let me tell you this, it may surprise you!  We are not so unlike as you might think, the Elves and us; we both know from whence we came and differ solely on the thereafter - I will not bore you with details!  Shun the truth if you will but it does not make it any less true!”
 
Eilinel: “You are alike; you both deal in absolutes…”
 
Sauron: “I knew that I liked from the first but could not put my finger on why; I almost regret wasting time with disguises, what fun discourse we could have had…”
 
Eilinel: “I am already bored, kill me now and have done!”
 
Sauron: “What, NO, NO, NO; I have not been so piqued and tickled like this for ages!  I would not have us part without you knowing a thing or two, or I for that matter.  Tell me, what do you know of the Gift of Ilúvatar to Men?”
 
Eilinel: “That right now it would be a mercy!”
 
[He laughs aloud, uncontrollably at first but soon regaining composure…]
 
Sauron: “Such drollery… but clearly, this one knows more than she cares to admit!”
 
Eilinel: “We learnt by rote…”
 
Sauron: “That, I can believe… but answer me this: how would you feel if I said that I could rescind this so-called gift, that I could undo mortality?”
 
Eilinel: “That, I would not believe!”
 
Thuringwethil: “Now, My Lord?”
 
[He looks askance at her…]
 
Eilinel: “Now what?”
 
Sauron: “It seems my hand is played for me, no matter!  Eilinel, Daughter of whomever and of whichever House, I present to you a choice; tell me all you know regarding the outposts of those that still oppose me in these lands and die quickly, otherwise help me take part in a little research that I have in mind!”
 
Eilinel: “I will never tell you anything!”
 
Sauron: “Predictable, somewhat disappointing and yet a little fortuitous… for me that is!  And fortuitous too for you perhaps, if all goes to plan; Eilinel, this procedure has not worked on Elves ere now, but you however could be the first of your kind to become something… well, something new!  Thuringwethil, you may proceed; but gently now, she is not a feast…”
 
[Eilinel struggles in terror but cannot escape her captor-companion’s grip.  And amid deathly screams the Vampiress sinks sharp fangs into her neck, exalting at the taste of living blood as she draws it in.  At length the captive falls silent and limp in her arms and Sauron orders Thuringwethil to cease; Eilinel slumps lifeless to the ground…] 
 
Thuringwethil: “Is she dead?”   
 
Sauron: “No, no, just a little drained!”
 
Thuringwethil: “Has it worked?”
 
Sauron: “I know not, mannish folk differ organically to Elves…”
 
Thuringwethil: “So what now, Lord?”
 
Sauron: “Now…we wait!”