Of Beren and Lúthien: The Complete Tale of “The Lay of Leithian” by LuthienHuan

---

Introduction + Chapter 1 Of Loves: Past and Present

Introductions of Beren and Lúthien; plus the meeting of Thingol and Melian

---

Introduction

 

Among the tales of sorrow and of ruin that come down to us from the darkness of the First Age of Middle-earth there are yet some in which amid weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures. And of these histories most fair still in the ears of the Elves is the tale of Beren and Lúthien. Of there lives was made The Lay of Leithian, Release from Bondage, which is the longest save one of the songs concerning the world of old; but here the tale is told without song.

*****

Beren was the son of Barahir. They were descendents of Bëor, whose house was the first of the race of Men to enter Beleriand. Barahir was the lord and leader of the families who settled in the pine woods of southern Dorthonion. Beren, born in the year 432 of the First Age of Middle-earth, was raised during the Long Peace, the years between the third and fourth Battles of the Wars of Beleriand, which pitted the free folk of Middle-earth against Morgoth, the evil Dark Lord who sought dominion over all Middle-earth.

While in his teens, Beren became like his father: a cunning hunter; sword master; deadly with bow and spear. In 455, his skills would be put to their tests; for Morgoth emptied his stronghold of Angband sending forth with his wicked servants sudden streams of fire through Dorthonion. Thus began the fourth Battle of the Wars, appropriately named in the Elven tongue the Dagor Brachollach; meaning the Battle of Sudden Flames in the tongue of Men. During this Battle, Barahir saw that Nargothrond’s Elven King Finrod Felagund son of Finarfin and his soldiers had become surrounded and well-outnumbered. Barahir called upon Beren and together they gathered as many men as they could quickly find, and with swords and long spears the Men carved a way of escape for the Elves.

Morgoth won the Battle after six months, leaving nearly all Dorthonion a wasteland. However, his victory was marred with the knowledge that Felagund, Barahir and Beren survived. They would later meet, and for saving him and his soldiers, Felagund swore a life-long oath of aid to Barahir and his kin. In token Felagund gave Barahir his ring, a Finarfin-family heirloom that later became known throughout Middle-earth as the Ring of Barahir.

Three years later, Morgoth again attacked the Men of Dorthonion. Although many of the women, children and elderly fled the settlement sometime before the onslaught, it was no less a massacre that left Barahir with only twelve men, including his son Beren. They became outlaws of Morgoth, still refusing to leave Dorthonion. Barahir took his companions northeast and made a new lair next to the hallowed lake of Tarn-Ailuin. Unable to discover the lair and needing to turn his attention elsewhere, Morgoth gave the task of finding and destroying the outlaws to his most terrible servant – Sauron.

*****

Lúthien was the fairest being ever to grace Middle-earth, or ever shall. Blue was her raiment as the unclouded heaven, but her eyes were as grey as the starlit evening. Her mantle was sewn with golden flowers, but her hair was as dark as the shadows of twilight. As the light upon the leaves of trees, as the voice of clear waters, as the stars above the mists of the world, such was her glory and her loveliness; and in her face was a shining light.

Born in the year of 4700 in the Age of the Years of the Trees of Valinor, two long ages before the First Age of Middle-earth began, Lúthien was the only child of Elven-King Thingol and Queen Melian of Doriath. They lived in the kingdom’s cavernous underground city of Menegroth, also known as the Thousand Caves. Thingol created the Caves to remain out of Morgoth’s reach. He sought aid from the Dwarves of Belegost, who were highly skilled in the carving of underground mansions. Melian, however, was the main reason why Menegroth remained out of the Evil Lord’s reach.

For Melian was a Maia, of the race of the Gods from Valinor. As such, for her love of Thingol she took on Elven-form, but with mightier powers and stronger enchantments than the Elves of Middle-earth, and she was capable of seeing inside Morgoth’s mind. She also fenced in most of Doriath with an unseen wall of shadow and bewilderment: the Girdle of Melian. It blocked the view of unfriendly eyes and allowed none to enter the kingdom without her or Thingol’s will – save one.

As Melian’s child, Lúthien inherited much of her mother’s powers. From her Lúthien learned the wisdom and majesty of her people in both Middle-earth and the Blessed Realm of Valinor. And while the Kingdom of Doriath endured, its lands and Elves throve and were mostly untouched by the Wars of Beleriand until the Dagor Brachollach.

Yet, even thereafter and until its end, Doriath maintained its glory, peacefulness and beauty, bested only by its Princess and Queen. Behind the Girdle of Melian, the flower Niphredil sprang from Lúthien’s footsteps to greet her as she danced daily in the lush green glades of Doriath and sang with a voice as keen and heart-piercing as the morning lark that pours its voice among the dying stars, seeing the sun behind the walls of the world.

 

 

Chapter 1

Of Love: Present and Past

 

As any other normal morning before breaking her night’s fast, Lúthien is dancing and humming under a couple trees in a small courtyard surrounded by walls of nearby mansions, where a couple balconies overlook the courtyard. Several nightingales can be found in the trees and on the ground; and several follow Lúthien around as she dances. Daeron, Menegroth’s minstrel, tries to hide behind a tree in an attempt to secretly watch her. But it may be that the beating of his heart has given him away.

“I know you’re there, Daeron,” said Lúthien, as she continued twirling about. “Why do you attempt to be hidden and silent? You are a minstrel, a spy you are not; a least not a very good one.”

Daeron, with as innocent a face he can conjure, comes from behind the tree holding his flute. Daeron’s love for Lúthien is no secret throughout the kingdom, or to Lúthien herself.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but it’s moments like these that you inspire me most. Besides, I think ‘spy’ is too harsh a word for what I’m doing. While watching you I could write a million sonnets about your grace and beauty while you dance.”

Lúthien initially smiles at him and then gives him a strange look.

“That’s sweet,” she said, “and also a little frightening. Do you stalk all your friends like this?”

“Stalk!” he exclaims. “I think I like ‘spy’ better. But, no, only the ones I…”

Lúthien stops dancing and interrupts him saying, “Don’t say it!”

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t help it,” he said. “You’re the only one I watch, and the only one for whom my heart yearns. I write my music only for you. You are the only inspiration I need. I love you so.”

Daeron plays some notes on his flute but stops when Lúthien comes to him and takes his hands in hers.

“I told you before,” she said, “I cherish our friendship, but for now I feel not the way you would like me to feel. I cannot give you what you seek. You may take heart in this: maybe someday my heart will turn to yours. Who knows what may happen or what the Valar and Ilúvatar have in store for any of us.”

She releases his hand and returns to dancing.

“So, what does it take to turn the heart of the fairest of all things in this world?” he asked.

Lúthien replied, “That even I cannot answer. I’m afraid you’ll have to discover that yourself.”

“We’ve been together for hundreds of years. I haven’t figured it out yet.”

Thingol comes to a balcony, sees Lúthien and Daeron and calls, “Lúthien!”

Lúthien looks up and answers, “Yes, father.”

“Will you be joining your mother and me for breakfast this morning?”

“I’m on my way, father.”

“I’ll see you there, sweetheart. Daeron, would you like to join us this morning?”

Daeron looks up and answers, “No, thank you, my King. I have some things I need to tend to this morning.”

“Then I shall see you later.” Thingol said. “Farewell.”

“Farewell, my King,” Daeron said looking back at Lúthien.

“I’m going to Esgalduin sometime this morning. Would you like to meet me at the Old Beech?” asked Lúthien

“I’ll be there with flute in hand,” answered Daeron.

Lúthien smiles and departs. Daeron watches until she’s out of sight. To himself he says aloud, “I would die for you. Is that enough to win your love? But, who am I kidding? As beautiful as you are, I’m sure there are many that would do the same.”

*****

Lúthien joins Thingol and Melian who are already eating breakfast in the Royal Dining Hall. Two guards stand by the doors and can’t help but smile when Thingol giggles as Lúthien seats herself.

“So, how’s Daeron?” asked Thingol.

“Now, don’t start, dear,” Melian said.

“Well, you have to give the boy credit. He doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“And that’s what frightens me,” Lúthien said. “I’ve told him – seemingly every day for many years – that I care for him, which I do, but only as a good friend; friend being the word I’ve tried to make very clear to him. However, it seems I can’t turn around without seeing him standing in my shadow. He’s like a stray puppy I’ve fed that will not go away.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you like hounds,” said Thingol. “But, do you know what frightens me? Of all the available males in our kingdom, he’s probably the only one I’d approve to take your hand.”

Melian said, “Yes, I agree and…” Melian and Lúthien looked at each other and simultaneously say, “…that’s very frightening!”

“Well, I put my daughter above all Elven princes,” said Thingol.

Melian said, “Well then, if there isn’t anyone in our kingdom, then you, Lúthien, may have to go outside to find the love of your life. Who knows, Lúthien? Maybe you will fall in love with a Man; or maybe even a Dwarf.”

“Now you’re frightening me,” said Thingol. “But as for Men, I take no account in that worthless race. And since no Man will ever enter our kingdom, and falling for a sawed-off, axe-wielding, fuzz-faced Dwarf is totally ridiculous, I don’t think I have to worry about either one.

“Anyway, as for Dwarves and Elves, there will never be one that will love the other. They may get along for mutual purpose or gain, but there shall never be a true bond of friendship or love between a fair Elf and an uncouth Dwarf.”

“Don’t be too sure of that, my love,” Melian disagreed. “What would you say if I said that I foresee an Elf whose best friend is a Dwarf, and that our kinswoman Galadriel is also a very good friend of that same Dwarf, who would gladly give his life for either of them?”

“I would say that’s nonsense, and that your powers of foresight are being clouded by your optimism and compassion. But even if you do foresee that type of strange friendship, I’ll bet you don’t see me giving my daughter’s hand to any Dwarf, or Man for that matter.”

“Well, I…,” said Melian, but is abruptly interrupted by Thingol, “Please, stop.”

“Not everyone can fall in love the way you two did,” said Lúthien. “It’s been years since you told me the story. Tell me it again.”

Thingol said, “Simply put: your mother found me, saw my shocking good looks, and knew that she couldn’t live without me.”

“You know, I thought it was the other way around. Was it not you who found me?” Melian asked.

“Ouch,” quietly said Thingol as he leaned toward Lúthien. “Talk about stepping on someone’s ego. She could’ve at least let me have my moment.”

“Yes, but who found who?” Melian again asked.

As he again straightened himself in his seat, Thingol replied, “Of course, you know she’s right. This is actually how it happened:

“It was during the Great Journey. After being one of three Elves to follow Oromë to Valinor and see the Lights of the Two Trees, I returned to Middle-earth to persuade and gather our people for that westward march to the sea; and from there on to the Blessed Realm to live among the Trees’ lights and the Valar, those who aided Ilúvatar in the creation of our world.

“There was a time of rest after we had passed over Ered Luin, so I had wandered to the nearby woods of Nan Elmoth in search of my friend Finwë. I was standing at its edge looking at its fascinating trees; ones I had never seen before. In fact, I was a bit frightened, for it was very dark inside the woods; looking in resembled a darkness darker than twilight. It was during the days before the sun and moon ever rose, and the world’s only light was its numerous stars. But that forest was eerie, nonetheless. Then, that similar voice you inherited I heard coming from within. Instantly, my fear left. Its loveliness drew me in, and I dove into the woods seeking that astounding voice.

“After what seemed like forever and I seemingly had walked for miles, I was so far in that I began to fear that the voice might have been a phantom or something to waylay or ensnare me. But I was enchanted and could not stop. I finally came to a glade, and there was your mother lying on a bed of leaves.

“Well, I took one look at her and literally forgot everything and everyone. She was a vision of uttermost beauty. Nightingales were all around her, singing her songs she had taught them. It was no wonder that when she sang in Lórien, the Valar would leave their works and the birds would leave their mirth; even the fountains stopped flowing.”

Melian added, “He’s partly right about that good looks thing. He was so handsome. In all honesty I also was smitten. I knew then that I would not be returning anytime soon to the gardens of Lórien or to Valinor.”

Thingol continued, “Yes, by her I was ensnared. Then the next thing I knew we seemed to be a mile in the air. She had put forth an enchantment and we were soaring in the clouds. To this day I know not how long we were up there; a hundred years, a thousand, an age? By the time we came down, many of our people were gone; most continued the Journey. They followed your Uncle Olwë, who created Alqualondë and became its Prince. There were some who remained behind and continued searching for me.

“Needless to say, I was found, and your mother was ever after by my side. We married, led the rest of our people here and, with your mother’s aid, decided this would be the perfect place to be the throne city of the Kingdom of Doriath, the Hidden Kingdom which we together shall forever reign. The only downside of all this was that I never again saw Finwë; and knowing now he’s been slain, I probably won’t unless it is in death; in the Halls of Mandos.”

“That’s an amazing tale,” said Lúthien. “I don’t see anything like that happening to me. I don’t think I could ever be instantly smitten like that.”

Melian said, “Doubt not the wonders of the heart.”

Suddenly, the door opened and Guard Teron walked to Thingol where he stood before him at attention.

“Your pardon, my King,” he said, “but Chief Captains Mablung of the Heavy Hand and Beleg “Strongbow” Cúthalion wish to have an audience with you. They apologize for the interruption, but they state an imperative issue needs your immediate consideration.”

Thingol, not at all upset by the interruption, said, “By all means, send them in.”

Teron motions to the guards at the door, and one turns and gives a gesture of approval for entrance. Mablung, dressed in his captain’s uniform, and Beleg, dressed in his usual attire, enter and sit at the table.

“Good morning, my Royal Family,” said Mablung.

“Good morning,” Beleg also said.

Lúthien and Melian responded with, “Good morning.”

Thingol asked, “Have the two of you eaten yet? Would you like some breakfast or maybe some tea or nectar?”

Mablung answered, “No, thank you,” but Beleg said, “I wouldn’t mind a little tea.”

Lúthien pours Beleg’s tea as Thingol asks, “So, Captains, what is so urgent?”

“Beleg reports that at Northern Post One last night he and the guards had a strange visitor that gave them news, which also seemed very strange,” said Mablung.

Beleg added, “He was an eerie shape on his horse; if the beast he sat upon was in fact a horse. He never dismounted and remained in the shadows just outside the light of our torches; we could hardly see him. He said he was an ally to all those who oppose the Enemy. That’s when he told us the Dark Lord was building a new weapon.”

Lúthien said, “Morgoth’s always building new weapons.”

“Yes, my Princess,” Beleg said, “but he said it is being built outside of Angband, about two miles southwest in the surrounding mountains near Thangorodrim; and also that he had seen it. It appears to be a catapult-type weapon that will have the ability to be pushed or pulled to wherever it’s needed; by a troll or two, or many smaller servants. Its capabilities include hurling huge stones or masonry long distances. What’s more: Morgoth is also inventing with his wizardry large boulder-sized shot that will ignite in midair; to be a huge ball of fire by the time it hits its target, he said.”

“We were preparing some men to investigate this weapon,” Mablung said. “Maybe we’ll be able to build something similar or a weapon to counter it. We seek your council to suggest the number of men to send.”

“Two,” Lúthien said to the surprise of the three men.

“Two?!” the men exclaimed.

“Yes, two; the two of you,” Lúthien said.

Thingol asked, “Why do you think just two, my Princess?”

Lúthien answered, “First of all, they receive information from a very shady character, who apparently did not tell them his name nor wanted it known on what type of beast he rode, or even what he himself was. It may have been Morgoth guised for his purpose; or Sauron.

“Second, he tells them Morgoth is building a weapon outside Angband, his stronghold that’s nearly half the size of our entire kingdom; and in a place with surrounding mountains perfect for an ambush. However, the weapon that’s being built is said to be small enough for just a couple trolls or several Orcs to move along.

“Third, he gives you what I believe is far too much information, including the things it will launch, such as its specially-made fireballs. I do not doubt that this new weapon is being built, or where. However, I believe that Morgoth wants this information known for his enemies’ curiosity, allowing him to ensnare or slay many if they arrive at unawares.”

“Then why should we two go without more to defend us?” asked Beleg.

Lúthien answered, “Do you not see? If you take ten, twenty or thirty soldiers, few of you shall return; for the Enemy’s servants will surely see you, and many of you will be taken or slain. But, two – one watching out for each other – can use stealth; slip in and out without being noticed. Two soldiers are easier to hide than one large group.”

“That’s my girl,” Thingol proudly said with a big smile.

“Very clever,” agreed Mablung.

“How long do you think I’ll be without my two top captains?” Thingol asked.

Beleg answered, “I wouldn’t think much more than a fortnight.”

“Before you leave,” said Melian, “please meet me under Hirilorn. I will have a gift for your departure.”

“Yes, my Queen,” said Beleg and Mablung.

*****

It was about midday when Mablung and Beleg slowly rode their horses through Menegroth’s north-inner and – outer gates. Once through them they saw Melian standing underneath the giant Beech with two guards by her side. When their horses were close enough, they stopped and Melian stood in between the two and handed the captains small packages wrapped in green leaves.

“This is lembas for when food is unavailable, and for those whom you may meet along the way,” said Melian. “It will give energy to the strong and healing to the ill. May Ilúvatar bless each step and keep you safe.”

They loved their queen, who is the only person in the kingdom who can give the gift of lembas; which shows her love for those whom are fortunate enough to receive it.

“Thank you,” Mablung said, while Beleg added, “We are honored.”

They both bowed to her and then bid her “farewell.” Melian smiled while watching Mablung and Beleg ride away.