the story of beren and lúthien ~ finished by geoff zeiger
XVII
The night closed in and starlight paled 5130
to utter black as all hope failed.
Of moon or torch no flickering came
and Lúthien, the shining flame
of Thingol's house did wane and fade
when Beren's corse in grave was laid, 5135
for those of elvish race age not
nor sicken so long as there is aught
within the world that they hold dear,
but weariness, and grief, and fear,
these things may rob the earth of joy 5140
and wonder, as it were a toy
in child's hand that other cares
with passing years take unawares.
Thus her sorrow gladness steals,
her heart no song nor laughter feels, 5145
and all the world grew dim and grey;
she wandered as one gone astray
until her winding ways had led
where Celon's banks neath trees were spread.
There long ago in Elder-days 5150
ere voice was heard or trod were ways,
the haunt of silent shadows stood
in starlit dusk Nan Elmoth wood.
In Elder-days that long are gone
a light amid the shadows shone, 5155
a voice was in the silence heard:
the sudden singing of a bird.
There Melian came, the Lady grey,
and dark and long her tresses lay
beneath her silver girdle-seat 5160
and down unto her silver feet.
The nightingales with her she brought,
to whom their song herself she taught,
who sweet upon her gleaming hands
had sung in the immortal lands. 5165
But for her daughter in that place,
loveliest of immortal race,
no beauty had the woods, nor mirth
remained to her upon the earth;
no bounds her sorrow had, nor balm 5170
as stood she there in stillness calm.
It seemed a voice she sighing heard
in creaking boughs without a word.
Where the forest-stream went through the wood,
and silent all the stems there stood 5175
of tall trees, moveless, hanging dark
with mottled shadows on their bark
above the green and gleaming river,
there came through leaves a sudden shiver,
a windy whisper through the still 5180
cool silences, and down the hill,
as soft and faint as sleeper's breath,
an echo came as cold as death:
"Long are the paths of shadow made
where no foot's print is ever laid, 5185
over the hills, across the seas!
Far, far away are the Lands of Ease,
but the Land of the Lost is further yet,
where the Dead wait, while ye forget.
No moon is there, no voice, no sound 5190
of beating heart; a sigh profound
once in each age as each age dies
alone is heard. Far, far it lies,
the Land of Waiting where the Dead sit,
in their thoughts' shadow, by no moon lit." 5195
Then Lúthien no more was bound
to Middle-Earth. Her spirit found
the westward way beyond the shore
where the Shadowy Seas' last surges roar,
o'er Timbrenting in timeless halls 5200
where Mandos dwells, where the light falls
on the shining sea. Then hope again
within her heart awoke; she sang,
for Beren there had stayed his path
as she had bid in Doriath. 5205
'Tis doom of Men to leave the earth,
forsaking light and love and mirth,
forgetting strife and grief and woe
and all the ills that they did know –
the gift of Eru that ere days 5210
are ended shall of Gods earn praise,
but curse to him it seemed as yet
to leave the world and love forget,
and so in Mandos tarried he,
a spirit watching fitfully 5215
to bid farewell to Lúthien
before he took the paths of Men,
forever sundered from his love,
the princess whom all things above
he cherished. So she found him there, 5220
and of Mandos did she dare
alone of Elves to mercy plead
of that stern judge, her wish to heed –
that Beren at her side remain
in Halls of Waiting, or again 5225
return to Thingol's woodland green
where all might be as it had been.
Thus Lúthien to Mandos sang,
her voice in utter silence rang,
a theme of love and joy profound 5230
so potent that was reason drowned.
She first of her adventures told
in Middle-Earth, and still more bold
she grew as Mandos stayed her not
but with his eyes her story sought. 5235
Even here enchantment lay
upon her listener to stay
and hearken to her golden voice,
though little power to sway his choice
she found, but as he listened grew 5240
her mournful tale in beauty true.
"Sharing laughter, knowing smiles,
sidelong glances, and at whiles
to steal unobserved a kiss,
together sharing in our bliss; 5245
the warmth of sun, the scent of rain,
a faithful friend to share your pain –
thus hand in hand through many years
entwine two mortal paths.
So brief two lives together wend 5250
and hearts and souls do sweetly blend.
When each from each our pathways part
and sudden sad doth grow my heart
for comfort do I dream of him
and comfort finds my soul therein 5255
for know I that he dreams of me
when I dream of him.
The mirth we share, the roads we dare,
of such things love is made
in mortal lands where Vala's hands 5260
on earth are never laid.
But also share we pain and sorrow
and all uncertain doubt the morrow,
but any fear the future holds
that Bauglir in the shadows molds 5265
to haunt our steps on distant shores
and forth from Angband ever pours
together we shall meet.
Long were the paths of shadow made
where no foot's print is ever laid, 5270
and none alive them wish to find
which our spirits snare and bind.
Yet willingly I sought thy halls,
my love to find within thy walls
and with him to return. 5275
In this my hour of need the power
you have to set us free,
and if you do I vow to you
our deeds of song shall worthy be."
"Alas! my child, to grant this boon 5280
I have no power. I would have soon
united thee again in life
in elven lands as man and wife
were he but of your kin and kind,
but even I the law doth bind. 5285
Ilúvatar has given Men
to pass at will beyond our ken –
so free my halls may he depart
though not to lands ye knew, but start
a journey hence, I know not where, 5290
but home with thee he may not fare.
And yet, methinks, of song thy tale
of mighty deeds and sore travail
indeed is worthy. Dear the price,
and yet no other would suffice 5295
to hear such song in lore recounted,
and well-bought shall it be accounted."
Then in the silence of his mind
where what Ilúvatar designed
and purposed was to him revealed, 5300
to Eru Mandos now appealed
for staying of the doom that lay
on Beren. Much that they did say
is hidden still from elven lore
but to Lúthien he bore 5305
a little of that long debate.
For many Men before their fate
had asked to lay their gift aside
in dread of that which may abide
within the Void beyond the world 5310
about which Morgoth's malice curled.
That dark lord's taint now cursed with fear
both dark and death, which once were dear,
accounted gifts among the wise,
but Morgoth's will did now disguise. 5315
Only Beren asked this thing
all free of fear of Morgoth's sting –
not fear of death, but hope in life
made Beren wish return to strife,
not to hold his gift in spite 5320
but seeking for a brighter light,
and out of love he seeks to bind
his soul to earth. Ye may not find
a nobler cause in any lore
of daring quest or beauty more 5325
than dwells on earth in after-days,
and Mandos listened in amaze.
To Lúthien Eru gave this choice:
her dancing steps, her lilting voice,
her lissom limbs and shadowy hair 5330
in long dark tresses flowing there
may walk once more upon the earth,
returned to lands of olden mirth
to hold in memory ever-green
all things which in her life had been, 5335
or with her love, if she would dare,
a mortal span of years to share.
If with her he would walk again
their lives enmeshed in mortal pain
should ever be, for in return 5340
the fiery spirit that doth burn
in Lúthien must forever dim,
and she must leave the world with him,
all her father's house forsaking
and the nightingales awaking 5345
in her mother's hands alone
must sing while other lands unknown
in realms unthought-of by the Elves
they two must wander by themselves.
A mortal life she then did choose; 5350
she could not bear her love to lose
a second time, for still more cold
as past the weary ages rolled
would grow the world before her eyes,
a dreary place where laughter dies, 5355
and down through distant depths of Time
in endless harmony sublime
but all unheeding years would creep
and no more she would dance, but weep,
forever sundered from her love 5360
and by the wheeling stars above
oft reminded by that fire
that once Men named the Burning Briar –
the seven stars that Beren saw
when sky was dark and hope was raw 5365
and ever blazed to light his path
and guide him back to Doriath.
When from Mandos they had gone
before their eyes in glory shone
the walls of Valmar white as gold 5370
that Elves had built in days of old,
of all their cities counted best
and hid by mountains west of West.
A little while they tarried there
but soon they wished once more to fare 5375
to lands that they had left behind.
At Alqualondë did they find
a ship to weather any squall,
and white its sails were and tall.
From Valinor to Eglarest 5380
they sailed from the utter West.
Some say that back with them a hound
in whose voice the stirring sound
was heard of horns of Oromë
once more a-hunting day by day. 5385
But others say in Valinor
he stayed, forgetting tears and war
in mortal lands where once he strayed,
and never after song was made
of Huan's deeds in mortal lands 5390
or if the doom of Mandos stands
to bar his way from sweet return
to realms for which his heart doth yearn.
For with his master Celegorm
he once went heedless of the storm 5395
of wrath that their rebellion stirred
behind them in Aman. No word
of Manwë stayed them from their course
alone to wrest by trial of force
from Morgoth Fëanor's gems of light 5400
that yet did shine, though all was night.
Before the sun or moon yet shone
that land was bathed in starlight wan
where Finwë's son the Noldor led
through trackless wastes where it is said 5405
a doom the Valar did pronounce
on any who would not renounce
the slaying of their kin and go
to beg forgiveness – that in woe
through all the ages of the world 5410
wherever Fëanor unfurled
his mighty banner should they find
that war and grief their fate doth bind.
With them on that curséd day
was Huan, and his master fey 5415
he followed faithful, and no more
mayhap his feet may walk that shore
where long ago with Tavros' folk
he ran neath shade of beech and oak,
but shut in Mandos has he spent 5420
many long years, till he repent
of his defiance.
But 'tis known
that Beren and Lúthien alone
from those harbors journeyed east.
No aid of guide nor hardy beast 5425
they had, till north of Nargothrond
to slender Ginglith and beyond
they came to Narog's foaming shores
where over rocks the water pours
in flashing streams that murmur soft 5430
of rest and solace, and where oft
a gleaming fish is seen to leap
from pools still, and cold, and deep.
Across the shallows broad they wade
on which the sunlight ever played 5435
and cast its trembling rainbows bright
upon their faces, with the light
of Lúthien's eyes to sparkling blend
and mingle, till too swift doth wend
their path across the Guarded Plain 5440
where Orodreth's power yet did reign,
and thence they passed to Neldoreth
that lies to north of Doriath.
In wonder there the woodland folk
them greeted, and in awe they spoke 5445
in later years in Thingol's halls
how soft but strong enchantment falls
about the feet of Lúthien
that swiftly whirling, dancing then
upon the grass where once she stepped 5450
as fleet as roe-deer flashing leapt
through hidden mazes ever roaming
in twisting paces in the gloaming
until should fade the gleam of stars
and soft the light between the bars 5455
of tree trunks standing watch would creep
to steal the night away, and sleep
should come while all the woods were waking
and morning breezes leaves were shaking.
On Lúthien's brow in gold was set 5460
the Silmaril, that blazing yet
more bright than any star doth shine
glistening marvelous in heaven's mine.
This Thingol gave her on a morn
beneath the boughs of Hirilorn 5465
upon a bright mid-summer's eve
where light and shadow interweave
as falling from the beechen queen
in silken-silver golden sheen
are both reflected in her eyes 5470
and in the gem where never dies
the soft gold gleam of Glingal's flower
and Belthil's silver bloom that power
of Fëanor emprisoned there
to sparkle ever and to flare 5475
when other lights were wholly dark.
Then sudden through the woods a lark
was singing sweet in silence vast
that lay upon the forest fast.
No flute of Dairon there was heard 5480
contending with the trilling bird,
but everywhere the nightingales
whose moving music never fails
were softly joined in trembling themes
that are remembered in the dreams 5485
that flee at morn's approach, and all
at dawn are lost beyond recall.
Half elven-fair and half divine,
more lovely than the stars that shine
through frosty airs in darkest night 5490
to music twirling in delight
were Lúthien's dancing steps that spun
about the glades till one by one
all living things there paused that went
with padding footsteps on the bent. 5495
Her skill in dancing unsurpassed
is counted while the earth shall last
save only Nessa who is seen
swiftly moving on the green
immortal lawns in Undying Lands 5500
beyond the surging waves and sands
by which the ancient Sea divides
with endless-flowing darkling tides
that realm from lands where all things fade
with endless years upon them laid. 5505
And but for Nessa's beauty rare
has never been so blinding-fair
in Eä any Elf or Man
to rival the child of Melian.
When Fëanor's gem of fiery hue 5510
above her raiment white and blue
in crown of finest gold was set
her other gems its glory yet
reflected from her silken dress
more bright than lords of Elfinesse 5515
remembered from the world's youth.
And thus arrayed 'tis said in sooth
that none that were or yet shall be
on either shore of the sundering sea
may claim to match that peerless sight 5520
of jewels uncounted blazing bright
in robe as blue as summer skies
whose light was mirrored in her eyes
and sparkled in her mantle white,
a flowing train of starry light. 5525
And so 'tis sung alone of Men
by the boundless love of Lúthien
has Beren passed to Mandos' halls
to see what lies beyond those walls
and looked upon that Vala stern 5530
and thence has gained a brief return
to Middle-Earth. But never more
of what he learned in Valinor
to mortal Men he spoke, nor told
the secret that he learned of old 5535
of Eru's gift and their strange doom
that ever shall before them loom,
and of this thing he little spoke
when questioned by King Thingol's folk.
A little house they built to dwell 5540
beside the stream in hidden dell
where thick there grew and flowered still
the elanor and niphredil
whose subtle fragrance softly blows
upon the breeze to waiting nose. 5545
Round about that valley green
a thousand shaded boles were seen
of oak and beech in silent ring
in whose great boughs would ever sing
the nightingales in sweet delight 5550
from falling dusk to dawn's first light.
The morning sun like sifted gold
fell through the branches soft but bold,
and lightly played upon the grass
in dappled pools that fade and pass 5555
from golden sun in afternoon
to silver sheen of risen moon.
There amid the ageless trees
and endless trembling leafy seas
a child was born to Lúthien – 5560
a son of Gods, and Elves, and Men.
His name was Dior, though in song
anew the Elves have named him long
Eluchil, for Thingol's crown
was his by blood, though small renown 5565
he won himself, and met his end
in Menegroth at Maedhros' hand.
But some have said that fateful gem
upon the brow of Lúthien
too brilliant blazed for mortal sight – 5570
for candle burning twice as bright
can seldom burn but half as long,
its essence spent in glory strong.
And so when Eluchil, a child,
still played in streams and woodlands wild 5575
he brought to Thingol's lap a token
of the doom that was forespoken –
the golden circlet carried he
to Menegroth where mournfully
he was received. And so they learn 5580
that Lúthien will not return;
alone of Elves' immortal kind
the earth doth not her spirit bind,
and she alone has died indeed
and to her kin no more gives heed, 5585
for from her people by far more
than Sundering Seas without a shore
is she removed, by doubt enfurled,
beyond the Circles of the World.
For not in Mandos do they dwell, 5590
and save what this brief tale may tell
the Elves know not the fate of Men
beyond the world, and Lúthien
no more is known, save what in song
may be recalled through ages long: 5595
Her lissom limbs, her shadowy hair
and chaplet of white snowdrops there,
her robes as blue as summer skies
and face where laughter never dies,
her voice as pure as driven snow 5600
and clear as whistling winds that blow
through mountain-passes high and cold,
and over all in crown of gold
the peerless gem of Fëanor
whose light shone ever on before 5605
the fairest maid of Elfinesse
with silver-sparkling eagerness –
all this is lost, and yet shall be
forever held in memory.
Please note most of this material [lines 1-4300 and 5172-5195] is copyright JRR Tolkien.
The remainder is copyright 2006 Geoff Zeiger.