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

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Chapter 17 Of the Hunting of the Wolf

Beren, Huan, Thingol, Mablung and Beleg hunt for Carcharoth, but something goes terribly wrong.

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Huan, Beren, Lúthien, Thingol, Melian, Mablung and Beleg sit at the Royal banquet table as several guards stand behind guarding them and watching over the large crowd celebrating. Huan has a royal plate and water vessel of his own. People periodically come to the table to congratulate the new bride and groom and her parents. After the well-wishers became less, Lúthien turned to her parents.

“Mother, father,” Lúthien said, “I have not seen Daeron since returning here.”

“I’m sorry, Lúthien,” Melian said, “but we know not where he is after he wandered off while attempting to find you. He felt so ashamed of betraying you, especially when he discovered that you were lost. He blamed himself. Daeron told me he realized that if he truly loved you, he would have never betrayed you to your father or stood in the way of what gave you true joy and happiness, when he himself could not. Your father and I tried to persuade him not to go, but he insisted saying he must do something to make things right. He was going to do everything possible to bring you back to us. The last we knew of him was a rumor that he traveled east over Ered Luin. That was nearly a year ago. Your father sent several search parties, but he was no where to be found. He is dearly missed. I fear the worse because he is not one skilled in surviving the wild. Before he parted he wrote and sang some of the most beautiful songs since becoming a minstrel; and the saddest that have ever come to our ears. When generations to come look back at this Age, they surely will list Daeron above all other minstrels, including Maglor son of Fëanor.”

“I’m sorry, my love,” Beren said.

“I shouldn’t have asked him to assist me,” Lúthien said. “He was a minstrel, not a soldier. It was too perilous. I wish I could find him to tell him that I blame him not; and that I am sorry.”

“My dear, you mustn’t blame yourself for Daeron’s choices,” Melian said. “You’re an Elven-maid who has made choices some warriors would not. Just as well, he could have told you that he would not help you, but also kept silent your plans.”

“This is a celebration,” Thingol said. “Let us speak not of sorrowful things at this time. Later, we will honor his memory along with the others who we’ve recently lost. As for now my daughter has returned, this is her wedding night, and I have a new son-in-law. Let’s keep this night focused on joyful things.”

Beren, however, said, “I apologize, my King, but there is one bit of sorrow we must discuss: Carcharoth. Mablung told me he has broken through the Girdle. He tarries in his rage, but he will be as near as Esgalduin within the next several days. You do know what this means, do you not? The Quest has not ended.”

“You do not have to prove anything else to me. In my eyes, you have fulfilled your oath,” Thingol said.

“I understand. In mine, though, it is unfinished. Carcharoth would not be loosed nor have the power within him if it was not for me. And if he gets into the Thousand Caves, it will be a massacre before he is able to be brought down; for the power of the Silmaril drives him. It may take countless spears and arrows to injure him enough to be slain once he begins his attack and gets his first taste of blood.”

“What do you suggest we do?”

“I say we prepare the Hunting of the Wolf.”

“Yes. In fact, you shall lead this hunt. I will also come and humble myself entirely to serve you, whatever your plan may be. How many do you think we should take?”

“All at this table, except for Melian and Lúthien, of course.”

“Are you serious? If it was I, I would have a legion following me.”

“He would then assuredly see us first and spring upon us at unawares like he did Mablung and his company. We would then be his appetizers before his feast. We must use stealth and have hope in secrecy; and the hope that we see him first. Therefore, I suggest we leave on the second morning. Beginning tomorrow morning, send small companies with those most skilled in stealth to find and keep track of the wolf. It is my hope we meet him at the river to give us added advantage with its noise and large rocks around the banks.”

Thingol called on his two top captains. “Mablung and Beleg, in the morning see to the details and begin sending the small companies out to find and keep track of Carcharoth; one every four hours. They are just to find and watch the hell-beast; engage him not.”

“Yes, my King,” said Mablung.

Thingol smiles and lifts his golden goblet to Beren. “Now let us return to celebrating!” With a smile Beren clashes his mug with Thingol’s goblet. “I’m all for that,” Beren said.

Lúthien and Melian look at each other with concern in their eyes. Lúthien, interrupted by a hug from Beren, looks at him and smiles trying not to show him that she’s worried.

*****

At sunrise two mornings later, Beren, Thingol, Mablung and Beleg sit upon their horses. Huan sits beside Lúthien as she speaks with Beren. Meanwhile, Melian speaks with Thingol.

“The bright sparkle in your eyes is somewhat dull this morning, my love,” Beren said.

“There’s a shadow hanging over me; a feeling of disaster resulting from this hunt,” Lúthien explained. “Can it not wait one day more?”

“I’m sorry, but it cannot. The scouts say Carcharoth will arrive at the Falls of Esgalduin near mid-morning; the place where our chances are best. We seek the water for safety, for he is not a good swimmer, and the roaring sound of the falls will help hide the sounds of our approach. If we arrive there before he swims across, we may have an opportunity to slay him while he attempts to swim to our side. Even if he decides to cross at the Falls, the water will slow him down. We cannot wait.”

“You’re right. I just can’t shake this feeling that something dreadful is going to happen.”

“The whole kingdom is counting on us to fail not. He will be stopped before he gets to Menegroth; he has to be. There is no losing today, whatever the cost.”

“I know. I just have a horrific feeling that the cost is going to be a very high price. Let me go with you. I may be able to help.”

“No, my Princess. Because of me, you have seemingly been in harms way ever since we met. I will not put you there again.” He looks at Huan as a tear wells in Lúthien’s eye. “Besides, I have my best friend to watch out for me.”

Lúthien reaches her hands out and softly holds Huan’s head with both. While looking into his soft round eyes, she says, “You will watch out for him, will you not? Please make sure he comes back to me; make sure everyone returns, including you, my friend.”

Huan barks once and licks her cheek. “See, you have nothing to worry about,” Beren said, trying to reassure her. “We’ll be back before you know it, and everyone will breathe easier. Above all, my lovely wife and I will then begin our long life together.”

He turned to Thingol and asked, “Are you ready, my King?”

“You’re our leader,” said Thingol. “We’ll follow when you begin leading.”

Melian grabbed Thingol’s hand just before he nudged his horse forward. “Be careful, my love,” she said. “Don’t do anything foolish. I don’t want our next meeting to be in the Halls of Mandos.”

“When have I done anything foolish,” he said. She looked at him strangely, and he added with a smile, “Regardless, we’ll all be fine. I love you, my Queen.”

“Then let’s get started,” said Beren.

Beren nudges his horse forward. Melian slips her hand away and smiles at Thingol, who then follows trailed by Mablung and Beleg. Huan walks beside Beren’s horse. After walking their horses about a half a mile, Beren and Thingol looked back to see Lúthien and Melian standing beside each other with their nightingales running about.

*****

About mid-morning the five hunters come to the top of a small hill in the sparse woods near the Falls of Esgalduin; about two-hundred yards away and in sight of the Falls. Unfavorably, Carcharoth is already on their side of the river. He sees them while drinking at the water’s edge, but they are unaware of him until he howls to indicate his presence. The four bring their horses to a stop while Huan stands next to Beren’s horse. Huan looks at Beren, who whispers to him, “Not yet, my friend.”

They briefly watch Carcharoth, who continues drinking and pretending he hasn’t seen them. Beren looks at the area surrounding him. After about a minute, he said, “Huan, stay here and watch him. Try not to let him see you. We need to go a little ways back down the hill, where we can dismount and tie up our horses. Do not engage him yet. Wait for our return.”

They quietly turn their horses and return down the hill. Huan lies down on his belly to watch Carcharoth. After riding a ways, Beren looked back unable to see the other side of the hill. Meanwhile, Carcharoth turns and with his head down walks into a nearby thicket where he lies on his belly unseen, although he knows Huan has seen his every move until he disappeared into the weeds. The patch is fairly large, and the weeds are tall and in direct line with Huan. There is somewhat of a small path on the right side leading past it to the water. On the right side of the path is a very large rock formation.

Beren stops his horse, and the others follow his lead, dismounting in the trees, to which they tie their horses. Beren has his spear in hand; Thingol draws his sword, as does Mablung; and Beleg unsheathes his long knife, but he also has his bow and a full quiver strapped to his back. They walk quickly back to Huan. Upon arriving, they speak in whispers.

“Where’d he go?” Thingol asked.

“He’s in that thicket in front of us where Huan looks,” Beren answered. “Let’s get as close as we can to him.”

They slowly creep down the hill until they’re only about twenty yards from the thicket and stop near the path. There is a large fallen log that gives them some coverage as they sit with their backs against it and take counsel.

“Do you have a plan?” asked Mablung.

“Actually, yes; but I’m open to any suggestions if you don’t like it,” Beren replied.

“Let’s hear yours first,” Beleg said.

“Are you sure? The plan counts greatly on your speed and especially your accuracy, Mr. Strongbow. It looks like you’re going to be about twenty-five yards from your target.”

“No pressure there. Sure! What’s the plan?”

“I want you and Mablung to get to that cluster of large rocks.” Beren points to them. “Do you see how the rocks are sort of staggered? The ones on the right side are taller than those on the left, nearest to the path. That’s perfect for the two of you and what I have in mind. I need you comfortable yet hidden in the middle so you can get a clear shot into the path.”

“Why shouldn’t he just get as close as he can to the path?” Mablung asked.

“Because, that’s where you’re going to be,” replied Beren.

“Me? I don’t understand. I’m not a bowman.”

Beren draws Angrist from his side and hands it to Mablung. “Here, take this. It lost a couple inches in Angband, but I had the smithies put another point on it and told them to get it and the edge sharp as possible. You see: Beleg’s going to shoot two arrows as fast and accurate as he can; the first through Carcharoth’s head; the second through his heart. Even if the first arrow goes in one ear and out the other, I believe Carcharoth will not instantly drop dead, because of the power of the Silmaril inside him. Therefore, you must be as close to the path and him as possible. After the first arrow hits, you jump out with Angrist. The accuracy I spoke of, Beleg, is not to slay your friend; but as quickly as possible, we need that second shot, through the heart. Thereafter, if you think you can get another one or two arrows into him, do it; just don’t hit your other captain. When you get to him, Mablung, shred him with Angrist; go for the throat first.”

Beleg assured, “Don’t worry, Mab, my friend. You’ll just hear the arrows whistling by.”

Mablung said, “I’m not worried. I just don’t want one whistling through me.”

“Go back up the hill and then through the woods to come up from behind them so Carcharoth won’t see you,” said Beren.

“What do you want me to do?” asked Thingol.

“You and I are going to be the bait,” Beren answered. “When Mablung and Beleg get into position and give us a signal, we’re going to take a little stroll down the pathway to draw him out.”

“My King, would you like to trade me?” Mablung asked.

“No, that’s fine,” Thingol replied. “You’re faster than I am — thank goodness.”

“Anyone else got a better plan?” Beren asked, but the others look at each other and say nothing. “Then let’s do it.”

The hidden Carcharoth watches Mablung and Beleg sneak back over the hill, where they enter the woods. Beren speaks with Thingol, who is closer to the path, waiting for them to get into position. As they speak they are unaware that Huan begins slipping slowly away.

“If we get the Silmaril, what are you going to do with it?” Beren asked. “Surely you’re not thinking of keeping it. The sons of Fëanor will lay your kingdom in ruin and fight you to the death for it, for the Oath won’t allow them to just let you keep it without a challenge.”

“I would eventually give it to them,” Thingol replied, “after keeping it for little while. I consider you fortunate, for I would be happy just to see and hold one. More than anything: I would love to see Lúthien wear it. I’m sure it would be an indescribable vision of beauty; nothing short of the beauty of Valinor.”

“Tell me honestly, why did you send me on the Quest?”

“Do you know not?”

“I have a fairly good idea, and it isn’t just to see or hold it, or have Lúthien wear it for a while. For some reason, I got this sinking suspicion that you would rather have me dead than be with Lúthien.”

“I wouldn’t say dead, but I did want you to go away. I mean: my daughter and you fall in love. At first I believed it was merely lust that kept you with her. I could’ve had you slain, but I’m not a murderer. I just wanted you to go away and return never. So, I came up with the Quest of the Silmaril; in haste, I may add, and thus putting my kingdom under the Curse of Mandos, as well as the Oath of Fëanor. Nonetheless, I thought the end would be one of two: that you would die in the attempt or give up. Either way, you would be seen never again in Doriath.”

Huan has crept into the thicket approaching Carcharoth, who sees him coming but doesn’t move. Beren and Thingol are still unaware of what Huan is doing.

“That was mighty clever,” said Beren. “Deceptive, but very clever. What would you have done if I walked up to your throne and handed it to you?”

“I don’t know, and I’m glad I don’t have to find out,” answered Thingol. “In all honesty, as you asked of me: I’m sorry about your hand, but I am glad that you survived, and that you took care of Lúthien, of course, and brought her safely home.”

“I believe she took care of me more than I did of her.”

“Nonetheless, you brought her back to me; to us. For that, I owe you much. It was ironic that I sent you away to teach you a lesson. Instead, you and Lúthien taught me many. Since the two of you have returned, it has become a different world to me; one that I truly believe is better. And for that, I thank you, my friend.”

And at that second, Beren’s thoughts revisited the moment when Finrod Felagund told him about how there would come a time when Thingol would call him “friend”.

Beren smiled at Thingol. “Don’t worry,” Beren said, “I will tell none that you’re an old soft-hearted fool.”

“Oh, be silent!” Thingol said, while giving Beren a friendly shove of the shoulder.

Beren then looks toward the rocks, but Thingol looks for Huan, who is now also hidden by the thicket and nearly upon Carcharoth.

“Beleg and Mablung should be getting there within the next minute or two,” Beren said.

“Where is Huan?” asked Thingol. “He didn’t follow the other two, did he? He was just here with us, wasn’t he?”

Thingol begins to stand looking toward the rocks. As he does, Carcharoth howls, leaps high into the air and starts coming down toward Thingol. Hearing Carcharoth, Thingol turned toward the thicket and then froze in fear from the sight of the huge wolf coming down upon him. Beren yells, “Thingol!” and shoves him aside so hard that the king rolled a couple feet on the ground. Beren then held his spear up toward the falling Carcharoth, who knocks the spear aside, falls on Beren and bites viciously into his chest as they crash to the ground. Raiment and flesh are ripped away; both were hanging from Carcharoth’s teeth as he puts his head down for another bite; growling and snorting loudly as he does; as Beren also screams loudly. Then Huan leapt from the thicket onto the back of the wolf, and they tumbled off Beren. Bitterly fighting, they both continue rolling away from him.

Thingol shouts, “Beren,” and runs to his side. Howls, snarls and growls filled the air, as did the voices of fleeing birds and beast. The ground shook, and rocks and boulders from the Fall splash into the river. Rotting limbs fall from trees onto the ground or into the water also. Still, hound and wolf are locked in battle. Heedless of the fight, however, Thingol remains at Beren’s side. He immediately starts sobbing when he sees how badly Beren has been bitten; his chest is literally ripped open.

“Oh, Beren!” Thingol said in disbelief of how badly Beren’s been bitten. He is unconscious and blood runs freely from his wound. His shirt is half gone, and the remainder is blood soaked. Thingol lifts him up to hold him and places his hand over the wound. Blood still runs freely through his fingers and under his palm. Thingol gently rocks him as tears stream down his face.

Huan and Carcharoth have fought their way back into the thicket. Mablung and Beleg came running toward Thingol with weapons in hand. But when they realized what has happened and saw Beren’s injury, they dropped their weapons and also wept. They knelt down next to him and their king.

“No, no, no!” yells out Beleg in disbelief of what has happened to his good friend.

Thingol looks up helplessly at them. Seeing their King’s tears makes them weep even more. “I don’t know what to do!” cried Thingol.

Mablung picks Angrist up from the ground, cuts off a piece of his own cloak and presses it to Beren’s chest to try to slow down the bleeding, but to no avail. The three’s weeping is as unstoppable as Beren’s bleeding.

Then the loud rumbling abruptly stops. There’s nearly a half a minute of dead silence broken only by the Fall’s water before they hear some rustling in the thicket. The three turn toward the noise in the weeds. Mablung still holds Angrist, and Beleg pulls his long knife from its sheath.

Then suddenly Carcharoth is seen as he walks slowly from the thicket toward the hunters. His huge head is pointed downward, but his eyes look hatefully at them, and his lips snarl and quiver and his jaws gape to show his long teeth. Mesmerized by his eyes, the hunters don’t move. The wolf-hound of Angband then comes within about five feet from them. Mablung grips Angrist tighter and Beleg prepares to swing his knife. However, Carcharoth, while still glaring, drops dead before them.

Immediately thereafter there’s another rustle in the thicket; and Huan limps out. His eyes look sad and his grey and white coat appears entirely red from blood. He comes to Beren, still being held by Thingol, and lies down beside him, putting his chin on Beren’s leg as he looks up at Beren’s face. Then, to the other three’s surprise, he speaks, and they see that Beren has become barely conscious as he looks at his hound-friend.

“My dear friend, Beren,” said Huan. “Hmm. You know, I had never used the word ‘friend’ until I met you and Lúthien. I followed Celegorm for more than four-hundred-and-fifty years, from Valinor to Middle-earth; never spoke to him; never considered him a friend. In my mind he was merely my master and I was his obedient servant. I saved his life many times, but he never seemed appreciative of me. The two of you treated me better in these past couple years than he ever did. For that, I thank you.”

Thingol, with tears in his eyes, looks compassionately at Huan as he looks at Carcharoth.

Huan continued, “I am sorry about rushing in and causing Carcharoth to charge. If I had waited, maybe the hunt wouldn’t have turned out this way, and we both might be in better condition. But my hope was that none of you would have to deal with him, even if I were to perish.”

Beren painfully nods in disagreement, but cannot speak. Huan continued, “I don’t know if hounds like me go to the Halls of Mandos or if there’s a heaven for us. Or maybe we just die and that’s the end. Therefore, it may be that I shall never again see you or Lúthien. Before I go, however, I want to let you know that the two of you taught me more than just friendship, but what true love really is – and now I can truly say that I love the both of you.”

Beren slowly reaches out and puts his hand on Huan’s head, but still cannot speak. In pain and with teary eyes, he smiles as Huan says, “Farewell, my friend.” Beren’s smile then turns to sadness, and he closes his eyes.

Huan then closed his eyes and died. Beren, whose eyes remain closed, cries openly as he gently rubs Huan’s head. The other three also continue weeping.

“If he does go to the Halls of Mandos,” Thingol said, “he deserves to return to Eldamar. Or if there’s a heaven for hounds, he ought to be seated on his own throne.”

Beren suddenly stops rubbing Huan’s head. Thingol realizes Beren too appears to have died.

Thingol gives him a small shake. “Beren.” he quietly said, but to no avail. Thingol again hugs Beren. “Farewell, my son – my friend.”

Mablung walks to Carcharoth and kicks him in the head with all his might and says, “Curse you, you evil, baseborn cur of hell.” He then gives a slight moan and holds his foot up for a second because the wolf’s rock hard head hurt it. After taking a second to shake off the pain, he takes Angrist and rips open Carcharoth’s belly. As Mablung carves, there comes a dull light from the incision, which also emits an odor of burnt flesh; he holds his breath and squints as Thingol and Beleg take notice. As he finishes cutting, the gash opens wider and exposes Beren’s dead hand still tightly holding the Silmaril, which blazes through it. The three survivors now see that Carcharoth’s flesh looks like burnt coal and ashes. Mablung carefully reaches for the hand. As he touches it, the hand disappears leaving the Silmaril shining brightly atop the blackened flesh. He jerks his hand back and looks at Thingol and Beleg. He reaches in again and quickly grabs the Silmaril and puts it in Beren’s hand. They marvel again as the jewel arouses Beren, who awakens and offers it to Thingol.

“For the hand of your daughter, my King,” Beren said. “I give to you this treasure, for yours. Now is the Quest achieved and my doom fulfilled.” He again falls lifeless.

Seeing now that he must surely be dead, Beleg said, “Come, Mablung. Let us make a bier.”

“Make it large enough to carry them both,” Thingol said. The two captains leave to construct it.

*****

The horses have been brought to where Beren and Huan died. Sitting on his horse and with tears still being wiped from his eyes, Thingol watches as Mablung and Beleg gently set Huan next to Beren on the bier, which has been secured to Thingol’s horse. They place Huan’s head onto Beren’s chest now covered with his coat that’s being used as a blanket. Mablung then walks to Carcharoth and again kicks his head, but not as hard this time.

“Stupid, worthless beast!” he shouted. Then he and Beleg mount their horses, and they all begin the slow ride back to Menegroth.

*****

Thorondor weeps, as he has been ever since seeing from Crissaegrim the deaths of his friends Beren and Huan.

*****

Lúthien and Melian sit at the table inside the house of Hirilorn. There are two guards and five nightingales at the base of Hirilorn, along with several of the birds sitting within its branches. Lúthien watches out the window, as Melian momentarily has her head bowed.

“Something is wrong,” said Lúthien. “They should have returned by now.” Melian raises her head with a face of sorrow. “You know something; do you not, Mother? I see the shadow crossing your face.”

Melian said, “You have shown yourself the abilities you hold within; strength, foresight, power. But the wise Elf knows when to use them.”

In agreement, Lúthien nods her head and again looks out the window. She sees the riders coming slowly; Mablung and Beleg lead as Lúthien sees that one horse is without a rider. She climbs down the ladder and, being greeted and joined by a guard, runs toward them; the other guard remained to assist Melian down the ladder. Then they also run toward the riders. As Lúthien approaches them, she doesn’t see Beren or Huan. But as she gets closer, she sees the bier and the hunters’ tear-filled eyes, and she also begins to weep.

“No!” she weeps, hoping that maybe her eyes were deceiving her as she sees Beren and Huan lying lifeless on the bier.

The riders’ tears again start flowing. They dismount. Lúthien runs to Beren and hugs and kisses him. She caresses his face, and to their amazement Beren opens his eyes.

Lúthien said, “Beren, go not beyond the Halls of Mandos! Wait for me there so I can see you just one more time. Please, wait!” She again hugs and kisses him. Mablung and Beleg stand beside Lúthien, who rocks Beren in her arms and again whispers, “Wait for me, please.”

Melian now holds Thingol, standing with his head buried in her shoulder and weeping. He finally gets his composure enough to look into Melian’s eyes. He then said, “I don’t even know how to tell her ‘I’m sorry.’”

“This is not your fault,” Melian said.

“Is it not? Was it not I who requested the Silmaril? Could this not have all been avoided if it were not for my fears and prejudices? He would still be alive if not for me.”

“He would have gone with you to any end. His doom was meant to take place today at the river. For whatever Ilúvatar’s reasons, you have nothing to do with his fate. Your daughter puts no blame on you, neither should you.”

“How can she not?”

“You need to go to her.”

“How can I?”

Together, they look at Lúthien, who still holds Beren and gently rocks him. Thingol slowly walked up behind Lúthien. For the first time in his life, he felt fear; fear of not being forgiven by his own daughter. He kneels down to her and slowly reaches to touch her shoulder.

“Lúthien?” said Thingol, as he finally touched her shoulder.

“Oh, Father!” she said, and Lúthien placed her head on his chest while still holding Beren. They wept together.

“I am so sorry, Lúthien,” Thingol said.

*****

On the hillside in a glade of Neldoreth where Beren first saw Lúthien dancing, she lies herself down facing the sunset. Four nightingales sit beside her. She looks last at the sunset and sees Thorondor in the distance skies. She closes her eyes.

*****

Thingol and Melian sit on their thrones. There are about ten Elves in the quiet Hall and two guards behind their seats. At the moment Lúthien closes her eyes, they look at each other and know their daughter has given up her life. They weep together for a short while. Thingol then turns to guard Teron and says, “Please send someone to bring back the body of our daughter.”

*****

In the sky Thorondor begins to weep as he sees Lúthien’s lifeless body as a beautiful flower cut from its stem unwithered. Snow begins to fall, and Thorondor’s screeching fills the silence of the sky. “Farewell, Lady Lúthien, most fair of the Children of the World,” Thorondor said to himself.