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

Chapter 5 Of Ered Gorgoroth

Beren's terrible trek through Middle-earth's most evil mountains outside Thangorodrim.

On a late autumn morning, Beren talks to his father as he stands next to his grave: “Well, father, I’ve awakened from the very last night here at the old lair, for I must leave Dorthonion. Sorry, but Morgoth and Sauron have really put the pressure on me. They flood our land with Balrogs, dragons, vampires, werewolves and who knows what other monsters and evil creatures are here that I have yet to see. What’s more: they’re marching entire armies of Orcs through Dorthonion in hopes of destroying me. I guess he likes not the damage this one man is doing to him. So if I don’t leave now, I fear I’ll never be able to go. Everywhere I turn nowadays I end up having to run from something. Sometimes I’m unsure whether it’s Man or beast. I fear, father, I’ll never be able to return here again. You know, I never realized how quiet and peaceful it is near the lake. And yet my ears are filled with noises…”

He smiles as his eyes begin to tear. “…your voice; the laughter of the Men standing beside the fire, talking about old times; the cries of sorrow and loss of family. You were the one who held us all together. I was always very proud of you; I wish I had told you this the last night we were together. I miss you so much, father; mostly how you were never afraid to show the goodness of your heart. Be he friend or stranger, you never turned your back on anyone. I wonder if that wasn’t your downfall. I’ll see you again someday. Until then, know that I love you very much; and as long as I live, there will never be a day I won’t think of you and our last two ‘farewells.’”

*****

It’s now a week later and winter has literally blown itself in with a night of gusting winds and heavy snowfall. Having made his way into Ered Gorgoroth, Beren runs through its trees as two werewolves and a wolf-rider chase him. He’s far enough ahead to be out of their sight, but they’re getting closer. He sees a large downed branch of a huge Beech. He runs up the branch and climbs further up the tree. He stops where the leaves are mostly clustered, but this barely gives him coverage. The two werewolves run passed the tree. As the wolf-rider approaches the Beech, he stops and looks around. He can’t distinguish footprints because of the blowing snow, which also causes the wolves problems with keeping Beren’s scent, and the darkness caused by clouds; no moon or stars can be seen. The wolf-rider looks directly at the cluster of leaves that hide Beren. Hearing a werewolf’s howl in the distance, he kicks his wolf and trots away. Beren stays in the tree and watches until he’s sure the three chasers are far enough away. Climbing down, he sits at the tree’s base.

“If I’m going to get any sleep tonight, I’d better find a place fast,” he said out loud to himself.

After a couple minutes of rest, Beren continues his southward journey as the mountain range descends. The snow has stopped blowing and falls lighter. He reaches a ledge. There’s about a twenty-foot incline to the bottom. He looks far in the distance and sees the land of Doriath, and it is at this time that his heart tells him that that land will be his destination. He slides down the incline. As he reaches the bottom, the snow stops; clouds clear; the moon and stars light up the mountains. He looks around and sees a small cave. He goes inside. Snow is no longer under his feet. However, he walks awkwardly.

“What am I stepping in? It sure is sticky.”

In low light he notices that someone has been there before, and there’s a small pile of wood against the wall.

“Bless the one who left the wood here. But what on Middle-earth keeps sticking to my feet?”

Beren digs through his pocket with one hand while he scans the ground for kindling with the other. From the pocket he pulls a flint. When his kindling is piled, he strikes his flint. The kindling finally catches to a small flame. He puts his head down to it and lightly blows to aid the flame. The flame grows, and he sees a skull inches from his face, which startles him, as does the first full light of the cave. There are small pieces of wood lying around, but there are more skulls and bones than anything else, along with patches of spider web.

“Oh, no. Please tell me this spider’s found another home, or that it’s at least hibernating through the winter.”

He immediately puts more wood on the fire. The higher the fire gets the more bones he sees. He sees many are from Men, Elves and Orcs, although most belonged to birds or beasts. Beren sits leaning against the wall near the mouth of the cave. Not hearing any noise and totally exhausted, he falls asleep.

*****

As the sun climbs over the mountain range, Beren awakens. His fire still smolders, so he puts some kindling and small pieces of wood on it and his hands over it. When the blaze gets bigger, he stands over it to warm his body. He fishes some nuts and berries from a small bag.

“I sure hope this lasts for a few days longer. If I don’t make it out of these mountains soon, I’m going to starve to death. Do you hear that, my friends?! I could use some food! Of course, what food is there for any Man in Ered Gorgoroth?”

Beren eats a couple nuts, picks up his sack, kills the fire with dirt until it smolders, and walks out of the cave. He doesn’t see the giant spider standing atop the incline where he slid down the night before. He walks a couple steps then hears snow rolling down the incline to the ground behind him. He looks up.

“Oh great, spiders in the snow. Only in Gorgoroth.” He then yelled to the spider, “Shouldn’t you be sleeping this time of year?”

Beren unsheathes Dagmor and begins to runs. The spider chases. Near the edge of a near-twelve-foot drop, Beren turns and points his sword at it. Another spider joins them.

“Well, if one more of your friends arrive then the odds will be about even!”

The first darts at him. He swings his sword, chopping off a claw. The spider makes a noise of dismay and backs up; its leg dripping very dark red blood. The other spider takes a run at him, and Beren jabs an eye out. It also backs up voicing dismay. The two regroup in front of Beren. Then he hears behind him a long loud growl. He turns to see a werewolf.

“I said another spider, not a werewolf.”

Beren sees that it’s young. It stands on two feet that has four sharp toes on each, which matches the four fingers on its claws. Its facial features include two round hollow black eyes above flaring nostrils of a large snout. Its massive overbite has many sharp teeth, including two longer fangs protruding from its snarling lips. It again growls at him.

“I don’t suppose you like spiders for breakfast, do you?” The werewolf gives a long howl and a grunt toward Beren. “No, it sounds like you’d rather have me. Well, stand in line.”

The first spider lunges again. Beren runs and leaps between its legs and with a flip lands on its back. Raising Dagmor, he brings its down through the top of its back and through the belly. The spider hideously screams before falling lifeless. Beren leaps off landing in front of the other spider and the werewolf. The spider rears up and the werewolf lifts its head high to give another long howl.

“I see that didn’t take away your appetites. Well then, who’s next?”

The werewolf reaches for Beren, who spins, swings Dagmor upward and severs its left hand above the wrist. The werewolf screams, but Beren continues after him. It backs up until it falls off the drop; hitting bottom knocks the wind out of it. Beren looks at it; it looks back up at Beren. It then stands up, looks at its bleeding stub and gives a pitiful whine. It again looks up at Beren, turns his head and sadly walks away.

“Sorry, little one. You should’ve chosen the spiders for breakfast.”

Beren looks at the spider in front of him. It hesitates. “Well, it’s your move.” Oozing yellow and red from the one jabbed eye, it looks at the blood trail leading to the edge where the werewolf fell. Then it looks at the dead spider. After looking at Beren with Dagmor gleaming in the new sun, with the exception of where the spider’s and werewolf’s blood stains it, the spider then backs up, turns and walks to the cave.

“That’s it. Go warm yourself over some hot coals.” Beren sheaths his sword and begins walking. “Well, I wonder what I’ll meet up with next.”