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

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Chapter 21 Of Tol Galen

Something terrible happens at the old home.

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Here it must be told that during Beren and Lúthien’s first three decades on Tol Galen, events were taking place in Doriath and throughout Middle-earth that would soon affect them. Many of those events pertained to Húrin's family. But of The Lay of the Children of Húrin, that song and stories that pertain to them are told in detail elsewhere. Let it be said here that the Lay tells of some of Morgoth’s most evil doings: capturing Húrin during the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the Battle of Unnumbered Tears and the Fifth Battle of the Wars of Beleriand, and Morgoth placing him on a stone seat and giving him vision to watch the unfolding of the sad lives of those he loved most; his wife Morwen thereafter sending their only son Túrin to be raised in Doriath by Thingol and Melian; Túrin’s adventures and misadventures throughout his child- and adulthood, including the destruction of Nargothrond and the mishap of killing Beleg “Strongbow” Cúthalion, who had become his mentor and best friend; unknowingly falling in love with his own sister, Niniel Nienor; being the bane of Morgoth’s most evil dragon-worm Glaurung, who set in motion the sibling’s union; and their discovery of this fact that caused them both to take their own lives.

Also let it be said here of Húrin’s release in the year 499, and that a year later he recaptured the Nauglamír, the Necklace of the Dwarves made for Felagund that remained in Nargothrond after his departure from his kingdom with Beren. Húrin thereafter gave it to Thingol as “payment for the fair keeping” of his family members. After Melian told him the truth and how Morgoth had bewitched him, Húrin departed from Menegroth, and it is said that he went west to the sea to perish, wishing life no more; thus ending the sad tale of his family and house.

*****

After receiving the Nauglamír and having possession of the Silmaril taken by Beren and Lúthien, Thingol began to ponder how the two could be united, although Melian counseled him to return the Silmaril to Fëanor’s sons. Nevertheless, Beren and Lúthien’s blood and sacrifice, Thingol’s own lust for the Silmaril, and the union of it with the Dwarves’ jewel kept him from surrendering the holy jewel; such was the power in it.

Therefore, Thingol called upon the Dwarves of Nogrod who travel from Ered Lindon through Doriath to undertake the task of uniting the two. In time Thingol’s desire was achieved and the greatest of the works of Elves and of Dwarves regarding jewels were brought together and made one. Its beauty was very great, for now the countless jewels of the Nauglamír reflected and cast abroad in marvelous hues the light of the Silmaril. At the time of its completion, Thingol, being alone among the Dwarves, made to take it up and clasp it about his neck; but the Dwarves at that moment withheld it from him, and demanded that he yield it up to them, saying:

“By what right does the Elven-King lay claim to the Nauglamír that was made by our fathers for Finrod Felagund who is dead? It has come to him but by the hand of Húrin the Man of Dor-lómin, who took it as a thief out of the darkness of Nargothrond.”

But Thingol perceived their hearts, and saw well that desiring the Silmaril they sought but a pretext and fair cloak for their true intent; and in his wrath and pride he gave no heed to his peril, but spoke to them in scorn, saying:

“How do ye of uncouth race dare to demand anything of me, Elu Thingol, Lord of Beleriand, whose life began by the waters of Cuiviénen years uncounted before the fathers of the stunted people awoke?”

And standing tall and proud among them he bade them with shameful words be gone unrequited out of Doriath. Then the lust of the Dwarves was kindled to rage by the words of the King; and they rose up about him, and laid hands on him. Then, they slew King Thingol.

Thus, Elwë Singollo, King of Doriath, died in the deepest places of Menegroth; he alone of all the Children of Ilúvatar was joined with one of the Ainur, the Maia Melian; and he who, alone of the Forsaken Elves, had seen the light of the Trees of Valinor. With his last sight before dying, Thingol gazed upon the Silmaril.

Then the Dwarves taking the Nauglamír passed out of Menegroth and fled eastwards through Region. But tidings went swiftly through the forest, and few of that company came over Aros, for they were pursued to the death as they sought the eastward road; and the Nauglamír was retaken, and brought back in bitter grief to Melian the Queen.

Yet two there were of the slayers of Thingol who escaped from the pursuit on the eastern marches, and returned at last to their city far off in the Blue Mountains; and there in Nogrod they told somewhat of all that had befallen, saying that the Dwarves were slain in Doriath by command of the Elven-King, who thus would cheat them of their reward.

Then great was the wrath and lamentation of the Dwarves of Nogrod for the death of their kin and their great craftsmen, and they tore their beards and wailed; and long they sat taking thought for vengeance. It is told that they asked aid from Belegost, but it was denied them, and the Dwarves of Belegost sought to dissuade them from their purpose; but their counsel was unavailing, and before long a great host came forth from Nogrod, and crossing over Gelion marched westward through Beleriand.

*****

Upon Doriath a heavy change had befallen. Melian sat long in silence beside the body of Thingol the King, and her thought passed back into the starlit years and to their first meeting among the nightingales of Nan Elmoth in ages past; and she knew that her parting from Thingol was the forerunner of a greater parting, and that the doom of Doriath was drawing near. For Melian was of the divine race of the Valar, and she was a Maia of great power and wisdom; but for love of Elwë Singollo she took upon herself the form of the Eldar Children of Ilúvatar, and in that union she became bound by the chain and trammels of the flesh of Arda. In that form she bore to him Lúthien Tinúviel; and in that form she gained a power over the substance of Arda, and by the Girdle of Melian was Doriath defended through long ages from the evils without.

But now Thingol lay dead, and his spirit had passed to the halls of Mandos; and with his death a change came also upon Melian. Thus it came to pass that her power was withdrawn in that time from the forests of Neldoreth and Region, and Esgalduin the enchanted river spoke with a different voice, and Doriath lay open to its enemies.

Thereafter, Melian spoke to none save Mablung and Huan, bidding they take heed to the Silmaril, and to send word speedily to Beren and Lúthien in Ossiriand.

Therefore, they set out for Tol Galen. They hadn’t gone far when they were overtaken by the ever-vigilant Thorondor along with several of his kin.

“I know where it is you’re going,” the Eagle-King said. “You seek Beren and Lúthien; but you will not succeed by this route.” Thorondor told of a host of Dwarves who were coming their way. He then had Melian mount him, Mablung mount Gwaihir, and Huan mount Landroval. Then they lifted them into the air for a swift flight to Beren and Lúthien.

They were set down on the banks of the Adurant. Huan leaped off Landroval and immediately sprinted toward the home of Beren and Lúthien. Mablung dismounted Gwaihir and aided Melian off Thorondor.

“Would the three of you remain here until we return?” Melian asked Thorondor, who told her they would do so. “We won’t be long,” she said, and then she and Mablung followed after Huan.

*****

Huan it was that found Beren watching Lúthien dance in a green glade. For several moments he remained unnoticed by the twosome as he gazed on the beautiful she-Elf. His mind went back to the day when he met Lúthien on the banks of the Teiglin River; when she walked toward him and their eyes met; moreover, did their hearts. It was the first time in his life when he felt love enter him. And at that moment he knew that there was someone who loved him just as much as he loved her. He also thought about his first meeting with Beren, and how for the second time he met another friend who would love him too. Now, the two he loved most in the world was about to get the worse news of their lives, and there was nothing the Great Hound of Valinor could do to shield them from the oncoming pain.

Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, Beren become aware of his longtime friend, and at first he was very glad to see Huan.

“Huan, my old friend!” said Beren, but Huan couldn’t take his eyes off Lúthien; not merely because of her beauty, but she too had looked at him, caught the hurt in his eyes and was again reading his now injured heart. Beren continued, “Have you come to go on a hunt? It’s been quite a while since we’ve done so together.”

“That’s not why he has come,” Lúthien said. “His eyes tell a tale of misery and woe. Huan, what has happened in Doriath?”

“Much misery and woe,” said Huan, who then saw Melian approaching from the woods. “But I will have your mother tell you the tale.”

“My mother?” inquired Lúthien, who turned to see Melian coming from the trees and into the glade with Mablung. Melian was unable to hold back the tears – as was Mablung – as she ran to hug her daughter, who asked, “What tale of misery do you bring, Mother?”

“One of death and destruction,” Melian replied. “Lúthien, your father is dead; killed by the Dwarves of Nogrod.” All began to weep, and the unseen Green-Elves in the nearby forest gave a cry of lamentation in unison when they heard those words; it echoed through Beleriand’s southeast. Melian went on to tell how Thingol wanted the Silmaril crafted into the Nauglamír and how the Dwarves rose against him when the task was complete.

“To give you this news is only half of why I came,” Melian said. “The second reason is that I came to say farewell to you and Beren; for I will now leave Middle-earth and return from whence I came; the land of the Valar beyond the western sea, to muse upon my sorrows in the gardens of Lórien. Hopefully, there will come a day when Mandos will release Thingol, and we shall be united again and I may again have joy, although you may join us never.”

Lúthien was speechless, but hugged her mother long. Thereafter, Melian kissed her forehead in farewell. “I love you, and I will miss you forever,” Melian said. And as she looked into her daughter’s eyes for the last time, none – not even Beren or Huan – could look upon those two and the bitterness of their parting.

She then looked to Beren. “I also love you, my son, and I know I leave my precious daughter in the best hands; ones Ilúvatar made and blessed especially for her. Farewell.”

Beren looked into his mother-in-law’s eyes for the last time. After a brief deep look, and as if spellbound, he could look no more; for the definitive definition of sadness was in her eyes; and even Beren the Brave, who entered the chamber of Middle-earth’s most evil being and in wolf-form sat beside his throne, could bear no more. He then, however, embraced her, and looking over her shoulder and into the distance, he thought to himself, “She above all in Middle-earth did not deserve this unhappiness, or ending. For as a Maia, she never judged any of the peoples and always looked for the good in everyone and in every situation. This was most unfair.”

But as if she heard his thoughts, she said to him, “Seek no vengeance for me, and seek always to do what is right; for that’s the Beren I know and love; and the Beren who my daughter loves.”

Without another word, she released Beren and then parted with Mablung at her side.

As for Melian, she was then taken by Thorondor to Valinor and would never return to Middle-earth again. Mablung was taken by Gwaihir back to Menegroth, as Huan remained a while with Beren and Lúthien.

*****

Thus it was that the host of the Dwarves crossing over Aros passed unhindered into the woods of Doriath; and none withstood them, for they were many and fierce, and the captains of the Grey-elves were cast into doubt and despair, and went here and there purposeless. But the Dwarves held on their way, and passed over the great bridge, and entered into Menegroth; and there befell a thing most grievous among the sorrowful deeds of the Eldar Days. For there was battle in the Thousand Caves, and many Elves and Dwarves were slain; and it has not been forgotten. But the Dwarves were victorious, and the halls of Thingol were ransacked and plundered. There finally fell Mablung of the Heavy Hand before the doors of the treasury wherein lay the Nauglamír; and it with the Silmaril was taken.

As is known, Beren and Lúthien yet dwelt in Tol Galen, and at that time their son Dior Eluchíl had to wife Nimloth, kinswoman of Celeborn, Prince of Doriath, who was wedded to the Lady Galadriel. The sons of Dior and Nimloth were Eluréd and Elurín; and a daughter also was born to them, and she was named Elwing, which is Star-spray, for she was born on a night of stars, whose light glittered in the spray of the waterfall of Lanthir Lamath beside her father’s house.

Now word went swiftly among the Elves of Ossiriand that a great host of Dwarves bearing gear of war had come down out of the mountains and passed over Gelion at the Ford of Stones. These tidings came soon to Beren and Lúthien. Therefore Beren arose and left Tol Galen, and summoning to him Dior his son they went north to the River Ascar; and with them went many of the Green-Elves of Ossiriand.

Thus it came to pass that when the Dwarves of Nogrod, returning from Menegroth with diminished host, came again to Sarn Athrad, they were assailed by unseen enemies; for as they climbed up Gelion's banks burdened with the spoils of Doriath, suddenly all the woods were filled with the sound of Elven horns, and shafts sped upon them from every side. There very many of the Dwarves were slain in the first onset; but some escaping from the ambush held together, and fled eastwards towards the mountains. And as they climbed the long slopes beneath Mount Dolmed there came forth the Shepherds of the Trees, and they drove the Dwarves into the shadowy woods of Ered Lindon: whence, it is said, came never one to climb the high passes that led to their homes.

In that battle by Sarn Athrad Beren fought his last fight, and he himself slew the Lord of Nogrod with the Dwarf’s own blade, and he wrested from him the Necklace of the Dwarves; but he dying laid his curse upon all the treasure. Then Beren gazed in wonder on the selfsame jewel of Fëanor that he had cut from Morgoth's iron crown, now shining set amid gold and gems by the cunning of the Dwarves; and he washed it clean of blood in the waters of the river. And when all was finished the treasure of Doriath was drowned in the River Ascar, and from that time the river was named anew Rathlóriel, the Goldenbed; but Beren took the Nauglamír and returned to Tol Galen.

Beren deemed the battle at Sarn Athrad a success, pertaining to the skills taught by him to the Green-Elves, who suffered no casualty. But little did it ease the grief of Lúthien to learn that the Lord of Nogrod was slain and many Dwarves beside; but it is said and sung that Lúthien wearing that necklace and that immortal jewel was the vision of greatest beauty and glory that has ever been outside the realm of Valinor; and for a little while the Land of the Dead that Live became like a vision of the land of the Valar; and no place has been since so fair, so fruitful, or so filled with light.