Chapter 17: Lúthien's Wanderings and Findings

Chapter Seventeen
Lúthien’s Wanderings and Findings

Beren awoke early the next day. The sun had not even broken upon the hills when he sat up. Lúthien was still asleep and lay beside him. Beren was glad she had not been disturbed by his movement. She needed her rest, and after all that she had gone through, it was the least that she deserved. He watched her lovingly for a long while and listened to her breathe, pondering a grave decision that he had tried to make before and was rudely interrupted by the brothers.
As much as he hated and mistrusted him, the words of Celegorm haunted him. He had wanted to send Lúthien away before, and she would not hear of it. He knew that she had meant what she had said before, that she would follow him to the ends of the earth and their dooms would be alike, with all her heart, and she had saved his life yet again. Despite all this, he could give her little protection against Morgoth, and his powers were far beyond that of Lúthien’s, Half-Maia she may be.
He cursed his oath, and he cursed himself. He did not want to admit to himself, for pride, that he truly wished that Lúthien could come with him. Did anyone really want to face Morgoth alone? He would be very lonely without her and may never see her again if he left her now, but he had sworn an oath that was set upon his head. He could not break that oath or ignore it. He had to continue the Quest; the final peril, even if it meant death, but he could not bring Lúthien with him. No, he would not allow it. She was too precious to him.
Beren was saying farewell to both light and love. Lúthien was safe now. Why put her in danger once again? It was true that Lúthien was a daughter of the Eldar. It was true that she was a child of a Maia and had her own powers in spells and magic and dance and song, not to mention her great beauty as well. She may be tall and much stronger than she looked to be. She may be wise and she may be a fighter, but she was no match for Morgoth. Only Ilúvatar was a true match for Morgoth.
For a long while, Beren was torn between his oath and his love, and the sun was high in the sky before he had reached a decision. The night carried on, and Beren still had not made his choice. He began speaking aloud to himself.
“I will not hold her to me any longer! I shall not be Death made flesh and blood for her! I can no longer drag her down into the pit with me! Yet I love her, and I cannot live without her, and at least if we do suffer Angband, we shall suffer together. But Tinúviel was not made to suffer. I cannot and will not take her with me. No matter what I do, I bring ruin to everything and everyone, especially to those I love!”
Beren had finally decided. His mind was made up, and no matter how much Lúthien pleaded or how much she hated him for his choice no longer mattered. As long as she was alive and safe, if only for a brief while, nothing else mattered. At last, he kissed Lúthien as she slept upon the grass. She let out a groan, but otherwise, she did not stir.
“Farewell, little bird,” he whispered in her ear. Then he rose and said to Huan, “I am committing you to care for Tinúviel. I know you will guard her well. You did it once before. Make sure she does not follow me. By the time she should awake, I will be gone.”
Huan cocked his head and gave him a puzzled stare.
“What I mean is: I am ending the quest on my own. I am leaving Lúthien here. I want you to lead her back to Doriath. And I can trust you to take care of her now. I do not care what she shall have to say about this, I have decided that I will not take her with me. Celegorm was right. I must protect her from Angband.”
Huan whimpered and bit at Beren's sleeve, What do you think you are doing? Not even a powerful Elvin-king can face Morgoth alone! No one upon Middle-Earth can! Did you go mad in the pits of Sauron? How can you leave Lúthien here? Celegorm only said those things to make you angry. They did not mean anything. Besides, I alone will never be able to stop Lúthien from following you! It would take a whole army sent from hell to do that!
Beren brushed him off and began singing the Song of Parting in praise of Lúthien and all the lights of heaven; for Beren was convinced that as soon as he came to Angband, he would have to suffer the pits of hell and would never see her again. He mounted Thalion and sang as he left.

“Farewell now, leaves of trees,
Your music in the morning-breeze!
Farewell now blade and bloom and grass
That see the changing seasons pass;
Waters murmuring over stone
And meres that silent stand alone!
Farewell now mountain, vale, and plain!
Farewell now wind and frost and rain,
And mist and cloud, and heaven’s air;
Star and moon so blinding-fair
That still shall look down from the sky
On the wide earth, though Beren die-
No dreadful echo, lie and choke
In everlasting dark and smoke.

Farewell sweet earth and northern sky,
For ever blest, since here did lie
And here with lissome limbs did run
Beneath the Moon, beneath the Sun,
Lúthien Tinúviel
More fair than mortal tongue can tell.
Though all to ruin fell the world
And were dissolved and backwards hurled
Unmade into the old abyss,
Yet were its making good, for this-
The dusk, the dawn, the earth, the sea-
That Lúthien for a time should be.”

Lúthien awoke hours later and found Huan at her side. Beren was nowhere in sight, and Thalion was missing. She was not alarmed at once, more annoyed since Beren still bore a wound. She did not think mortals recovered so quickly. She recovered from small cuts within seconds, bruises within hours, more serious wounds may take a few days. She could not imagine that Beren healed at that rate which was quicker than even most Eldar due to her Maiar blood. Then again, he was no ordinary man and was no stranger to pain having lived in the wilderness and surviving countless skirmishes. No doubt the athelas leaves affected him too. She assumed he had gone hunting and left Huan to guard her since the hound did not seem very distressed.
They would have little opportunity to hunt once they came to the barren lands of Angband and those surrounding it. Lúthien had spoken of her concern of food the night before, wondering if what the men of Brethil had given them would last the journey there and back. The bread was already growing stale, the cheese would not age well for long, and meat was sorely needed in good quantities and as early as possible so that they could dry the meat for travel. Beren had been strangely silent, lost in his own thoughts. She had not asked him to hunt, but perhaps he had been weighing her words carefully and taken it upon himself to do so.
She began to prepare the camp for his return should he return with game. Midday began to pass. There was not much time of daylight left now, and her annoyance became fear. What if he had only been temporarily relieved by the athelas leaves and he had been more grievously hurt than hey had thought?
“Huan, help me find Beren,” she said.
He whimpered. He knew Beren was leagues away by now, but he could not speak aloud his knowledge. He had to wait for Lúthien to put the right question to him. Only then could he respond clearly. No matter. He knew she would realize the truth soon enough.
She followed the track of hooves for a while. It did not take long for her fear to become doubt and then anger. She thought it suspicious that Beren would take the horse and leave Huan. She had no need of a guard, not here. Brethil was outside the Girdle of Melian, but close enough to Doriath so that only the boldest enemies would come near it. The sun was shining so that Orcs would not be active even if they were nearby, and the scent of Huan alone would drive away any wolves for miles. Besides, she could confidently say now that she no longer feared Orcs or Wargs or outlaw men. She had little knowledge of weapons, but she was becoming comfortable with her magic and enchantments.
Beren’s task would have been made much easier if he had taken the hound with him. He might need the horse only if his prey happened to catch sight of him and flee. Hunting had much more to do with stealth, patience, and good aim than speed. Horses were not creatures of discretion, whinnying and swatting at flies with their tails. Thalion was more war horse than hunting horse. They could not run through densely packed trees or flush animals from holes. Huan was as swift as any horse. They did not have claws and teeth.
He had not gone to hunt. Beren had left her here and no doubt commanded Huan to see that she did not follow him.
“Well, I will tell you this!” she declared. “You can run, but you cannot hide while there are sun and moon in the skies! Our dooms shall be alike!”
Huan sat down next to Lúthien. She gave him a sidelong glance and smiled.
“Do you remember when you helped me out of Nargothrond, when we realized I did not have a horse to escape for very long, you told me to climb onto your back and use you in the place of a horse?”
He nodded.
“Well, I was wondering if you would be willing to do so again.”
Huan wagged his tail and nodded again. He knew Lúthien would stop at nothing to catch Beren. She smiled and patted him on the head.
“Thank you, Huan.”
He made a noise in his throat that was laughter. Then Huan thought long of how he could aid Lúthien and Beren so that their peril in Angband would be less. In a few days journey, he brought Lúthien back to the isle of Sauron. He took up the wolf-hame of Draugluin that had been left and disguised himself as the wolf-lord himself, and Lúthien was convinced.
“And now for me,” she muttered. “What disguise can I take up?”
Lúthien pondered this long, and then, suddenly, she snapped her fingers and appeared as the messenger of Thuringwethil. Lúthien now appeared as a vampiress with great, mighty bat-wings with fingers, and a single barbed, iron claw. Lúthien was changed from beautiful in appearance, to the look of an old, ugly hag, and she was not content in such a form.
“Aye Elbereth,” she moaned when she saw herself in the water. “May the days be short!”
Huan rolled around on the grass in Draugluin costume, howling with silent laughter.
“Be careful, mutt,” Lúthien teased, waving her iron claw at him. “You do not look so swell either. Well, we shall both have a good laugh when we find Beren, and our journey from here to Angband will be enjoyable. All creatures shall fly from us in terror!”
Though the disguise was convincing, Lúthien privately knew that the disguises would only give them a chance of entering Angband. If the Enemy had already gotten wind of Sauron’s defeat and the passing of his servants, they would be rendered useless. Beren and Finrod had already tried to pass by Sauron using the same tactic. They had failed because Sauron knew his servants, even down to the meanest Orc. Lúthien and Beren would only be trading their skins for those of higher ranking officials of the Enemy. They would not have to answer to most of the servants of the Enemy, but they would be brought before the only one they were answerable to. Morgoth would expect to hear from them, even if it was not known that anything was amiss in Sauron’s Isle. He would certainly know the sorceress and Draugluin.
She tore away the disguise and studied her own reflection. Huan saw that she was deep in thought and let her alone for a while, but not too far that he could not come running in case there was trouble. She touched her face as she studied it. This is the face that has caused so much joy and so much grief. I bring trouble to those that become captivated by it. Beren is willing to throw his life away for it, and Celegorm would kill for it. She had never gone out of her way to seduce anyone. Her looks alone betrayed her. She had often wondered why she was cursed with such beauty. Perhaps there was a purpose for it after all. If disguises failed, Lúthien would be revealed one way or another. Sauron had said that Morgoth was seeking her, and even if Beren would not speak of it, she had known of the plot to snatch her for a long while. He sought her as a valuable hostage, yes, but he was also curious about her beauty. That meant that even Morgoth could be swayed a little in his deeds by the mere notion of great beauty. And though she had never been practiced in the art of seduction, she decided that it may have been the reason she was born. Her name was the word for enchantress. If she could ensnare the hearts of three great men and stir them to action, what might she accomplish if she tried? The thought of attempting to seduce Morgoth frightened and disgusted her, a wry smile crossed her lips.
It may be a way to purchase Beren’s life should all else fail. Who knows? It might even win me a Silmaril, even the Iron Crown and the Iron Throne itself.

******
“Come on!” Beren said under his breath. He had been trying to get a fire going, but the wood was too damp. It had been raining and storming all night. The trees were poor shelter. He tried to start a fire once more, but his attempt failed. He gave up and threw the stones away. Beren must have forgotten his strength when he was angry. The stones slammed against a tree trunk and broke into pebbles. He sat back and wrapped his blankets around him.
“No fire,” he muttered to himself. “Yet in these lands, I know fire can bring foes as often as banish them.” Then Beren shivered in the cold for a moment and said grumpily, “But then again, when it is a choice between the risk of fire and death...This is going to be a long night! Nothing to rely on but my own body-heat to keep me alive through the night!” He shivered again and threw the blankets over his head.
He began thinking of Lúthien and wished that she were with him now. He knew it was probably a little selfish, but he did not care. He wondered if Lúthien could have started a fire even with damp wood. She was revealing new powers day by day little by little it seemed. Darkness had fallen now, and he was alone. He tried to sleep, for he had been traveling for days now, and he was as weary as his horse. He now lay in the Plain of Ardgalen that led after many leagues to the Gate of Angband itself. He did not know that Lúthien was closer to him than he thought.
Lúthien was hiding with Huan and had to put a great restrain on herself to keep herself from laughing.
“Since he decided he could abandon me,” she whispered to Huan. “We may as well have some fun!”
Lúthien stepped towards the fire in vampire's form. She chuckled and waved her hand over the damp wood. It blazed into flames that licked towards the sky. Lúthien departed to the shadows again, and Huan let out a bone-chilling howl.
Beren tore off the blankets from his head and sprang to his feet, fumbling for his sword. He stared at the fire in amazement, for the flames were not red and orange, but blue! Then Lúthien waved her hand again, and the flame flickered so that for a brief moment, there was darkness, and Lúthien sat by the fire as the flames roared again.
Beren saw her and fell into dread, for in her disguise of magic, he did not recognize her. Lúthien cared not to hide her fangs as she spoke to him, and even her voice was changed by her magic.
“Come, boy,” she said to him. “Warm yourself by the fire. I saw that you could not light it and that you are all alone. One can only take pity upon you. So come now, and keep an old woman company.”
“Who are you?”
Lúthien again tried not to snicker. Poor Beren, she thought. He looks at me now and thinks me a monster. If he knew that it was his precious Tinúviel, he would tackle me and smother me with kisses.
Beren sprang to his feet and drew his sword. Lúthien let out a hiss and with a swipe of her iron claw, she knocked the sword out of his hand. He moved to retrieve it, then Huan sprang from the shadows over the roaring fire, and Beren spun around in a circle, trying to find him. He became dazed and confused by the firelight, and Lúthien kept dancing in and out of the shadows. Beren began to think he was having a horrible nightmare or was going mad.
Again Huan sprang over the fire, and Lúthien took flight. She flew over the top of Beren's head and landed behind him, startling him.
“Who are you!” Beren cried, his voice becoming shrill.
“You know who we are,” Lúthien answered. “You also know what we came for.”
“I do not know you! What do you want?”
Lúthien began laughing, and Huan let out a howl.
“Do you recognize this?”
Lúthien threw the ring of Barahir at Beren's feet. He let out a sob when he recognized it.
“Who are you! What have you done to Lúthien?”
“She is here, but not the way you think!”
“Where is she! Please! Merciful Manwë! What did you do to her?”
“She is here,” Lúthien said in a cruel voice. “With us.”
Then Lúthien swept her wings about her and disappeared in the shadows again. Then she sang with her own voice so that Beren would recognize it.

“Again she fled, but swift he came.
Tinúviel! Tinúviel!
He called her by her elvish name:
And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell
His voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell on Tinúviel
That in his arms lay glistening.”

Then Beren wondered. He recognized Lúthien's voice, but he thought now that this vampiress was trying to ensnare him.
“Where is Lúthien!” he demanded, and his eyes flashed. “I shall tear your wings off, you she-demon!”

“A, Beren, Beren! Almost too late have I thee found!
O proud and fearless hand and heart,
Not yet farewell, not yet we part
Not thus do those of Elvin race
Forsake the love that they embrace
A love is mine, as great a power
As thine to shake the gate and tower
Of death with challenge weak and frail
That yet endured and will not fail
Nor yield unvanquished were it hurled
Beneath the foundations of the world
Beloved fool! Ye that would seek
To escape from such pursuit; in might so weak
To trust not, thinking it well to save
Thy love from love, and welcome the grave!”

Lúthien suddenly blew at the fire, and sparks flew up into the air and got into Beren's eyes, but she had only intended to put out the fire. So darkness fell upon them, and Beren stood still with his sword gleaming in the pale moonlight.
“What do you want? Where is my Tinúviel? I will give you anything to have her back! What have you done with her?”
“Tinúviel? Aw. What a sweet nickname. You abandoned her, did you not?”
Beren started, then bowed his head and fought with the stab of anguish he felt at these words.
“We found the poor lass in the wilderness calling your name. I thought we should bring her here to see you before she died.”
Lúthien for a moment allowed her face to be seen; her own face, and Beren fell to his knees, calling her name.
“Tinúviel! Tinúviel!”
Huan stepped forward in his Draugluin costume and sniffed at Beren as he shrank to the ground and wept. When Beren raised his fist, Huan let out a warning growl and snapped his jaws in Beren's face. Then he turned to leave.
“No! Wait! Please!” Beren cried and suddenly grabbed Huan's tail. “Do not go!”
“We have no use of this boy,” Lúthien said to Huan. “I do not enjoy taking someone's life when they do not enjoy life.”
“Please!” Beren pleaded. “Take me! Take me in Tinúviel's place. Please do not harm her!”
“You left her! You left her all alone to die!”
“And may I burn for it!” Beren shouted at the top of his lungs. “I loved Tinúviel. She saved me from Death, and she saved me from Hell! And I loved her with all my heart and soul! Tinúviel would not leave me, yet I was so quick to leave her... Please! Please bring her back!”
Lúthien paused for a moment and smiled as tears came from her eyes, enjoying his words of love, but Beren was a man and was prideful. Now she felt that it was unfair of her to test him like this. She stooped and laid her hand on Beren's head.
“Well,” she said as last, “since you asked so nicely...”
Then Lúthien crept up behind him and wrapped her wings around him from behind. He let out a cry.
“What do you want?”
Lúthien let out a command, and her vampire disguise was gone, and her wings had changed back into the folds of her cloak.
“You!” she answered.
“Tinúviel!” Beren cried, and she was sent into gales of laughter.
“Revenge is sweet!” she chuckled. “You like the disguises?”
Lúthien bowed, and Huan tore off his wolf-skin.
“What are you doing here?” Beren shouted, casting down his sword and gripping her roughly.
“You thought you could get away from me, huh?”
“What are you doing here?” he repeated, and he cast her to the ground and took her by the throat.
“I followed after you,” Lúthien answered, for she was not afraid, even though she had never seen Beren so angry before.
“I told you not to follow me!”
“Then you are not in the least bit happy to see me?”
“Well...”
Lúthien put her arms around his neck and her touch cooled his anger. He took her arms and raised her to her feet.
“Did I hurt you?”
“You? Hurt me? I know that you could never harm me, Beren.”
Beren kissed her and held her close to him for a long while and could not help feeling glad that she had managed to follow him. He was amazed that she had and wondered how she had done it.
“How did you get here?” he asked her. “I put many miles behind me, and I made sure I was hidden.”
“Huan gave me his assistance once again.”
Beren cast Huan a dark glance.
“I thought I told you to make sure she did not follow me!”
Huan gave him an innocent look.
“It was not his fault. You know I would have found you sooner or later, Beren.”
Huan stepped forward and gave his wolf-helm to Beren.
“We have a plan,” Lúthien said. “We are to enter Angband under disguise. I shall go as the vampiress, and you the wolf.”
“There is one flaw to your plan,” Beren said. “There are only two disguises. That means one of us three must remain here.”
******
There was a silence.
“Thrice now I curse my oath,” Beren sighed. “But this means that Tinúviel certainly cannot come. I shall take the guise of the vampire, Huan shall take the wolf-helm.
“No!” Lúthien cried. “You would never be a convincing vampiress!”
“Follow me no more. I must prove to your father that I am not a fool or a coward.”
“Beren, my father wants you dead! He would have killed you if he knew you would get this far. I heard it from his own mouth. He hates you!”
“And that is no surprise.”
“No matter what you do, you will never truly satisfy my father. He will still hate you for what you are. Surely you must know that by now?”
“Yes, I do. But I swore an oath.”
“Did the oath say that you alone had to go to Angband? I recall it not! And I know why you made that oath at Finrod's grave.”
Beren paused.
“Oh yes, Beren. I know. You made that oath so that you had something to hold on to. You made that oath so that it might force you to go on. You never believed in the Quest. You did not assume you would perish in the deed, you just knew it and accepted it. You know what one could call you?”
“There is a very extensive list. Let me see now. Coward? Fool? There are some more colorful words I could name if-“
”You are a fatalist.”
“I never had hope. I admit that. You may call me hopeless, but I am just hopelessly in love.”
Lúthien fumbled for words. Beren cast himself upon the ground and dragged a hand over his face.
Lúthien lay beside him, staring at the sky. It was the color of ash, for it was known that the towers of Thangorodrim ever belched out smoke that poisoned the air even here in the plains. She looked towards the North with her eyes and saw the Iron Mountains of Ered Engrin. Beyond those mountains, she knew, was Angband, where they must soon be to challenge the Evil One in his strongholds. She thought of the Quest that she soon must face, for even if Beren denied her, she would go. She remembered all the things her mother had told her of Angband. That it was the Doorway to Hell itself and that Morgoth, Melkor, was there in his full power and majesty.
For a moment, Lúthien despaired and thought of what Beren had said and knew that he was right not to have hoped that they would ever succeed in such a Quest. How could they possibly steal a Silmaril from the Iron Crown? First, they had to somehow pass the gatekeeper and find their way through perilous mazes and snares. Then they would have to achieve the impossible and cut out a Silmaril from iron that lay upon Morgoth's head, the one who slept not by night or day and was the greatest danger upon both heaven and earth? And finally, when all is done, they must escape from the fires of Angband and bring the Silmaril to face another peril? Her own father!
Lúthien closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, and when she opened them, she looked about her. She saw Beren at her side, who was alive and breathing after his ordeal in Sauron's pits. She looked about the Plain and realized that Ardgalen was still a place flowing with life though the sky was scorched and the air bitterly cold. Though sunlight may never peer through the ashy sky and the foul reek of Angband was swelling and poisoning many of the waters, there were tall grasses and ferns and flowers growing as though the sun ever smiled upon the Plain. This place, despite how close it was to the Gates of Hell, was still green. Lúthien considered this, and this gave her hope.
She rolled to her side so that she faced Beren and said, “Was it true, what you said?”
“That I was hopelessly in love?”
She smiled. “That I saved you from Hell. Is that true?”
Now Beren sat up and took her in his arms. “You think that I was playing you false when I said that? I was a walking corpse. Morgoth had destroyed all of my people. My family. After I had taken out all of my rage in battle and could not find death in all my wandering, I had nothing left. Do you realize that? I would have flung myself from the top of Gorgoroth, if it were not for that one sight of Doriath. Then I heard that pipe and was led to you, and I had never been a believer until I met you, Tinúviel, and saw the light of heaven upon your face. And while I was in the pits of Sauron, your face was the only thing that went through my mind so that I survived.”
“This time, you shall be able to touch that face while we endure Angband.”
“Tinúviel, Morgoth does not love the Eldar, especially one of their princesses.”
“And he hates Men all the more,” Lúthien said gravely. “He hates my people because we are protected by the Valar and will never give in to him again. Most Elves hated him from the very beginning; so they run from him, and at the last, even fight against him, although it only brings grief and death to many. He is also jealous because the Valar blessed us with eternal life, but it is Men that fight him. Some Men are easy to control, but others would rather stand and fight than become his servants or to flee like Elves. We do not like wars, but your people are brave and prideful, so you fight like cornered animals. Indeed I marvel that Men would die so easily for our cause when they have so little life to begin with. Therefore, Men are even worse enemies in his eyes than the Elves. You are in more danger than I ever could be in.”
“I very much doubt that. Since we are so close to your home, I think that we must part here. Our brief song must end, and our paths must be sundered into their separate ways.”
“Why part here?”
“You would be safe in the borderlands of Melian. You will walk at ease and find your home and the well-loved trees.”
“My heart is glad when I see the fair trees of Doriath, yet I cannot return there. I left it with anger in my heart and forsook my home, my kin. I would not look on grass nor leaf there evermore without you by my side. Why there alone would you forsake me to sit hopeless at last and gaze at waters pitiless in heartache and loneliness?”
“I cannot enter Doriath, for I swore an oath to your father to never come back save to fulfill the Quest of the Silmaril and win my desire. Not rock nor steel nor Morgoth’s fire nor all the power of Elfinesse shall keep the gem that I would possess. This I swore once of Tinúviel, more fair than any child of Man. My word I must abide, though such a parting grieves me.”
“Then I will not go home, but I shall roam in these woods, weeping. I will not heed any peril or know laugher, and if I may not go with you, I will pursue you until we meet again.”
“I will not allow you to wander, and I shall not go to Doriath unless it were to guard you. Morgoth is seeking for you, Tinúviel. He has been searching for you for years. You do not know the things that Sauron spoke of to me. Morgoth's power is now awake; already the hills and dales are filled with his spies. The hunt is up! Their prey is wild, a lost maiden, an Elvin child. My hope grows weak and my heart is chilled at the thought. I curse my oath and curse the fate that joined us both and snared your feet in my unhappy doom of flight and wandering. Now let us to Doriath.”
“Never! Do not say that you curse the day that we met again!”
“I have brought misery upon you.”
“We both are at fault. If you had not seen me, you would have never gone upon this Quest. Morgoth knows who you are too. You are Beren son of Barahir. Your father's deeds alone are enough to be the death of you. You are even greater than your father, Beren. He has hunted for you for years also, his bravest foe, a child of Man and no common Man.”
“But you are the youth of the Eldar, Tinúviel. Morgoth knows that your race love you above all others. He knows they would give anything to save you. If he captures you, he shall have defeated the Elves.”
“That shall not be. I shall not allow him to capture me so easily.”
Lúthien brandished the sickle dagger at her side.
“You mean you would-”
“I would rather take my own life than become a hostage to be bargained for.”
“Tinúviel-”
“It is as I said before: Wherever you go, I shall follow and our dooms shall be alike.”
Beren opened his mouth to protest, but he heard laughter. Lúthien and Beren glanced at Huan. He was laughing!
“Beren, Beren, Beren,” he said.
Beren was dumb-founded.
“Is he-”
“Yes,” Lúthien told him, smiling. “He can talk. He spoke to me as we escaped from Nargothrond. You would be wise to hear what he has to say.”
Beren stared at Huan with wonder as he spoke again.
“Can you not see that you can never escape from Lúthien? She loves you more than you could imagine. She chose long ago to follow you to her doom, for she knows this and accepts it. She accepted it when she first came to you in the woods of Doriath. You cannot protect her from her own fate, because her fate has been woven with yours. So give up your attempts to dissuade her! They are made in vain. You are overjoyed that she is here. You can admit to that, and she shall never leave you for any reason. She has just proved it twice now. She proved first when she left Doriath and again now. She could have stayed, perhaps she might have even became Celegorm's wife and lived as a mighty queen of the Noldor, the Sindar, and the Teleri and lived without fear or care for Morgoth, but she did not. She came after you. And if you do go to Morgoth alone, you will die. The Quest indeed seems hopeless, but with Lúthien by your side, I believe you have every chance to succeed.
“I would go with you too, but I saw the flaw when I collected the disguises. I do not plan to follow you. This seems to be your mission, and Lúthien's as well. I know that what you find at the gate of Angband, I myself shall see even after you attempt your quest, and I know that we shall meet again in Doriath where all of this began, and that there in Doriath this all shall end. Now perhaps I have given you hope through my speech and you shall consider what I have said, Beren. What comes out of my mouth is all truth, and I would not waste my time to speak lies. Beren, you have only one chance to redeem this Quest and your oath. It was not chance that reunited you two. You are faced with a grievous choice. If you go to Angband, I advise you not to go alone. Many may call this Quest madness, but to go alone is truly madness! But now I can say no more.”
Then Huan shut his mouth and was silent. Lúthien smiled warmly at him and then turned to Beren and folded her arms, watching him intently. She wanted to know what his answer would be to all of this. But Beren had cast his eyes to the ground and did not speak..
“All that Huan has said is true, Beren,” Lúthien said when he did not speak. “I love you.”
“Tinúviel,” he announced after taking a deep breath. “I have made my final decision. I cannot run from you any longer. You are to come with me to Angband and to face Morgoth. We shall end the Quest together. No matter what tide may turn, no matter what cheats our hopes, no matter if we risk our lives and risk the fate of the earth. No matter if we risk losing each other, we must attempt to fulfill my vow. Together we shall win a Silmaril, and together we shall return or perish. We shall share the same fate despite all costs.”
“So you finally agree with me?” Lúthien said, and she was smiling. “So you will not run from me anymore?”
“No. Our dooms shall be alike.”
******
Lúthien awoke in the middle of the night. She stared up at the stars for a while, and then she watched over Beren. She saw that Huan was awake and was watching over her. She laughed.
“Do you ever sleep?”
Huan shook his head.
“Bring me a piece of parchment, please.”
Huan brought her what she asked, and she began scribbling onto it. Then she stamped it with the royal seal and placed it in Huan's mouth.
“Huan, you must go to Doriath and give this message to my mother and father. I have written a full account of what has happened since I left them, including the truth about Celegorm and Curufin, and that Beren is alive. They must receive this letter. It is very important, and you are the only one here that can deliver it. You were not going to come with us, were you?”
Huan shook his head in reply.
“We would not have let you come anyhow. Will you deliver this message for me?”
Huan nodded and turned to run off into the night, but Lúthien stopped him.
“Please. There is one more thing. Make sure that Daeron knows that I forgive him, and that I have all the protection I need here. I know more than ever why he did what he did. So please, tell him that.”
Huan nodded again.
“Thank you, Huan. I truly hope that Beren and I see you again. We are going to start towards Angband once winter has come. We plan to rest for a while. We have both been through too many ordeals to jump into another so soon.”
“You should not say such things,” Huan thought.
Then he ran off into the darkness. Lúthien returned to Beren's side and wrapped the blankets around him. She would not be able to sleep at all. Her thoughts were of Daeron and her home that now was many miles away. Never before had she realized the beauty of the glittering caves. She had never known until now what it was like to be far from home flying from peril into peril. She never knew how difficult a journey like this could be, even though Beren and Lúthien had miraculously survived all of these trials.
That gave her some comfort. She knew she would probably never see Doriath, let alone the light of day ever again.
******
Lúthien took up her vampire's form again and then gave Beren the wolf-helm to be his disguise. With magic, she caused Beren to look in all ways like a Warg, but she could do nothing about his eyes. There was always a gleam of a clean spirit in them. The two put on their disguises and had a good laugh terrifying the creatures in the wilderness. Then the night came and they managed to start up a roaring fire. They were safe for now and were very much encouraged that they had a plan. Lúthien had never had a plan to rescue Beren, yet she had managed to get him out safely. At least they knew they had a clue as to what they were going to do.
Now they sat by the fire, waiting for the stars to come out. Lúthien shivered, for the weather here was bitter cold. Beren wrapped a blanket about her.
“Thank you,” she said. “I am not used to this chill. In Doriath, it is much warmer. My Mother s Girdle causes that. I remember that during the first battle, Doriath had a much colder climate. It was under the influence of Morgoth, and he was in control of the weather.”
It was then that they realized that they could delay the Quest no longer. They planned to set out again the next day.
“I wish that we could stay here forever,” Lúthien said with melancholy. “There is no need to worry about the Quest, or my Father. We could live in exile. It is not all that bad.”
“As long as I am with you, it’s paradise!” Beren reached for her. “But I have lived in exile for too long, Tinúviel. I do not want to die an outlaw, and you are not an outlaw.”
“Then you do not fear the Nameless Evil?”
“Fearful does not even begin to comfort.”
Beren turned towards the trees and ran into a spider web. He began to scream and thrash wildly, trying to brush the webbing and the spider off. Lúthien raised an eyebrow and began laughing.
“Get it off of me! Get it off of me!” Beren cried.
Lúthien climbed to her feet, though her sides were sore from laughter, and she tried to pull away the sticky webbing.
“Hold still! There!”
“The spider is still there! I can feel it!”
Lúthien held the spider in her hand. Beren recoiled.
“Aye Elbereth!”
“You are afraid of spiders?” Lúthien asked and began laughing again.
“I see spiders in my nightmares all too often,” Beren answered, a little humiliated.
“Since the Spiders of Ungoliant made me their prey, I have developed a slight case of arachnophobia. I hope that the Enemy does not use that against me.”
“Well, I am glad to see that you have fears about something. I have many fears, almost too many, I should think.”
“You?” Beren sounded doubtful. “You, who had escaped from Doriath, you, who has faced the Wargs of the Isle, you who has cast down Sauron himself from his lordship, you have fears?”
“Yes. I have a great fear of Orcs and their pits of Baradur. You have heard the tales of the unfortunates that are cast into that dreadful place?”
“Yes.”
“And there is one fear above them all.”
“What is that?”
“That you and I might be separated during all the turmoil. We might never find each other again.”
“And that is my greatest fear also.”
“Beren, I was thinking,” Lúthien said suddenly. “What will happen if we do succeed?”
“What do you mean? We would have finally completed the Quest and returned to your father to be married. That is all I think about if we should succeed if I dare to hope for such.”
“No. You do not understand. I am worried for Doriath. I am worried about my Father and all of my people and all of the Elves and Elf-maids and the few children that have been born over the centuries. What do you think Morgoth's reaction will be when he loses one of the Silmarils he stole ages ago? They give him much power and glory. The Elves fear him all the more because he is in possession of those holy jewels. He would certainly like it back.”
“Are you saying that you are worried that he shall strike at Doriath?”
“Yes.”
“Your mother has her Girdle to protect her kingdom and the other Elf-Kingdoms would not stand idly by should Doriath come under attack. They know that once Doriath falls, Nargothrond will soon follow.”
“Yes, but what if her magic alone is not strong enough to keep out the power of Morgoth? My Mother is a Maia, but Morgoth was once a Vala, one of the highest of my Mother's kin. If he were to combine all his power... Beren, as soon as you had left the halls of my Father, my Mother began speaking to him. She always knew that you were no ordinary Man. She told him that he had either doomed me or himself. What if he doomed us both and all of Doriath shares in that doom? And what of the Sons of Fëanor? I would fear their retaliation before Morgoth’s. The Sons would stop at nothing, I feel, to reclaim what they feel is rightfully theirs. Having suffered at their hands, I fear what they would do to those they call enemies. Celegorm claimed to love me, and his brother tried to murder me. I shudder to think.”
Lúthien sat back and sank into her deep thoughts.
“Tinúviel,” Beren said, changing the subject to lighten their moods. “Once we are married, shall we have children?”
“Children?” Lúthien lifted her head and smiled. “Well, why not? I have always wished to be a mother.”
“Shall we have a son or a daughter first?”
“Whatever we have, we have. But did you know, Beren, that if we have a child, that child shall have the blood of three different kindreds in their veins? They shall have the blood of Man from their father, the blood of Elves from their mother, and the blood of the Maiar from their grandmother as well as from myself. You know that I am not full Elf, but Half-Maia. Never has there even been a half-elf born to Middle-Earth.”
Beren laughed.
“If that is so,” he said, “then that child shall be the fairest of all in the world, and they shall be the luckiest. They shall have Lúthien Tinúviel as their mother.”
“And they shall have Beren son of Barahir as their father.”
Lúthien closed her eyes and saw a child in her mind’s eye and as she finally nodded off she whispered a name, “Dior Aranel.”