Maedhros: (surprised.) Who are you?
Melkor: Does it matter who I am? (pause.) You are Maedhros, the eldest son of Fëanor, aren't you?
Maedhros: (nods.) I... I am... (suspiciously.) But who are you?
Melkor: (Ignores the question.) You have brothers, right?
Maedhros: Yes... (He is starting to edge away from Melkor.)
Melkor: And their names...
Maedhros: (pauses. Then, deciding it's all right.) Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod, Amras... (he trails off.)
Melkor: Five you have named, yet six there are. Who is the last?
Maedhros: (looks ready to bolt.) Why do you wish to know so much? For the last time, who are you?
Melkor: (smiles slowly.) I am Melkor.
Maedhros: (looks horrified at this revelation.) Melkor? Get away from me! (starts to run off SL.)
Melkor: Stay, Maedhros. I mean you no harm. I am simply trying to get to know the Elves. (There is a pause; Maedhros has stopped running.) Your sixth brother is Maglor. Or should I say your first brother, for he is the second eldest of the sons of Fëanor. I knew their names all along; I simply wished to see how honest you would be with me.
Maedhros: (his face shows he does not follow this well; he is wary of Melkor.) I see... I think I will go now. (He runs off SL.)
Melkor: (looks after Maedhros and laughs.) So that is the heir to the House of Fëanor. Naive little thing. Some day, you and I may fight a battle, young one. Or some day you may be serving me! (He laughs again and exits SR. Lights dim and come back on. Maedhros and Maglor enter SR. Maglor is walking rather quickly; Maedhros is jogging backwards in front of him.)
Maedhros: Outwardly, he was all smiles, but underneath, I could sense malice. A lot of it. I think that was what scared me so much. So when he asked for my brothers' names, I just... didn't want to tell him yours. But he already knew, so... (he trails off and, being flustered, trips over himself and sits down hard.) Oof. (For his brother's sake, Maglor tries hard not to laugh, but has trouble doing so, as Maedhros looks rather funny. Maedhros grins at his brother; he knows it was silly of him.) Go ahead and laugh. (Maglor starts to laugh, wanders a bit, and trips over Maedhros' leg. Maedhros yelps, rubs his leg, and glares at Maglor, who has stood up and calmed down.) Oh, come on, it wasn't that funny, Maglor. (Maglor reaches down and pulls Maedhros to his feet.)
Maglor: Sorry, but you're normally so level-headed, it's strange to see you upset. Are you hurt?
Maedhros: A bit late to ask, but I'm fine. (he turns serious.) But I want to know what he's up to.
Maglor: Of course you do. So would I.
Maedhros: And not a word of this to Celegorm, Caranthir, or Curufin. They wouldn't understand and would call me a coward.
Maglor: Why would they do that?
Maedhros: To them, running away from something that is not openly a threat is cowardice. But the thing is, I am not so sure Melkor was not a threat. For my sake, don't tell them.
Maglor: I will stay silent. What about Amrod and- (he cuts off, pointing SR.) Look! There comes Melkor! Run! (They take off SL and exit. Melkor enters SR.)
Melkor: So you are frightened of me, Maedhros. I think you are not nearly frightened enough. And now you bring Maglor, the brother whose name you would keep from me, into it. That could be useful. But it is of no matter right now; I will go to see your father and his Silmarils. (He turns to exit SR but at that moment Fëanor enters SL. Melkor turns to him.) Ah, Fëanor, my friend.
Fëanor: (in a tone that is warily indifferent; he does not like or trust Melkor, but will have conversations with him.) Melkor.
Melkor: And how are you today?
Fëanor: I am fine, but I wonder about my sons. Maedhros and Maglor just came dashing by as if they had the Everlasting Dark after them. Do you know why?
Melkor: (hiding a smirk.) No doubt they were simply playing a game.
Fëanor: (a bit sceptical.) Maybe...
Melkor: I have heard about you skills as a craftsman, Fëanor. I was wondering if perhaps I might be able to have a glimpse of that for which you are most reknowned?
Fëanor: (his attitude changes completely; before he was indifferent, now he is jealous and covetous.) You wish to look upon the Silmarils! No, you cannot; only my closest friends may. If that is why you wish to see me, you can go now, Melkor! (Fëanor exits SR, brushing past Melkor. Melkor looks after him angrily.)
Melkor: So I cannot even look upon the Silmarils. Not now, at least. But some day I will, Fëanor fire-spirit. I want those jewels, even as you do! (Exits SL. The lights dim then come back on.)
Manwë: (enters SL with Varda, both are smiling. Entering
SL and dashing past them are Amrod and Amras. Manwë laughs.)
This will be a lively day with those two around.
Amras: (pauses in the middle of running and turns to Varda and Manwë.)
Lord, Lady. (bows slightly.) Can we start to eat now?
Varda: (laughs.) So proper today. Go on, Amras. You can eat.
Amras: (yells happily and runs off SR after Amrod, who started to run again as soon as he heard Varda say yes.) Wait for me, Amrod! (they both exit SR.)
Manwë: (to Varda; he winces slightly as he looks off SR.) That was close. At least he stopped before hitting the table. (pauses.) Come on. This will be quite a feast. (He and Varda hurry off SR. Melkor enters sinisterly SL.)
Melkor: Yes, quite a feast. While they are all there, they will have forgotten about me. And I shall strike. (He steps forward a pace and starts to intonate in a commanding voice.) Darkness rise, darkness come, Melkor's dark will cover sun, cover the heavens, cover the skies, cover the ground before Manwë's eyes! (As he is speaking, the lights are getting dimmer and dimmer, and now, as he finishes, they are nearly out. Screams come from the feast area SR, and Melkor laughs.) My revenge will be so sweet. I go to the two trees now. (Screams fade out. Melkor walks off stage SR into the audience. He circles around and comes back on stage SL. The trees enter SL and stand.) Now for the source of light itself in this land. (He draws his sword and stares at it.) This blade is poisoned with an evil only I can make. Finally I have the occasion to use it! (He stabs the first tree, whose lights go out.) For Manwë and all the Valar! (He does the same for the other tree. The lights go out completely.) For all the Elves in Valinor! (He resheaths the blade.) One more place I must go, then back to Middle-Earth! (Sounds of runing feet. Finwë enters and faces Melkor.)
Finwë: (unfriendly.) What are you doing here, Melkor?
Melkor: I come for the Silmarils, Finwë! (Draws his sword and runs Finwë through. Finwë screams and falls. Melkor runs past him and off SR.) At last they are mine! (Yells.) But... they burn me! Varda, you will pay for this! (His voice rises to a frenzy.) But they are mine! It is no matter of their pain. When I return to Middle-Earth, they will be set in my iron crown and I shall rule! (his voice quiets.) Revenge is sweet. (Lights slowly come back on. Manwë, Varda, Yavanna, and Mandos are seated in a semi-circle. This is the Ring of Doom. Fëanor stands before them. The trees have exited.)
Manwë: So the trees are dead. (There is no response, but Yavanna puts her face in her hands.) Yavanna, you say there is only one way to revive them. What is it?
Yavanna: (lifts her head.) In only one place does the light of the trees remain. If we had the light, I could use it to bring the trees back. It would, however, destroy the thing that held the light. (she turns to Fëanor.) Will you give us the Silmarils?
Fëanor: (angrily.) You would have me destroy the Silmarils, into which I put all of my skill, so you can regain your precious trees? Never. The Silmarils are mine!
Manwë: (Jumps up.) Give some respect when you speak to a Vala, Elf!
Fëanor: If that is why you want me here, then I shall go. I wish to make sure my Silmarils are still safe. (At this moment, Maglor runs in, looking scared and sad.)
Maglor: Father...?
Fëanor: What is it, Maglor? Hurry up; I do not have all day.
Maglor: (nervously.) M... Maedhros sent me to tell you that... that... that Finwë has been slain and the Silamrils are gone!
Fëanor: (Roars.) What? (He grabs Maglor by the front of his shirt and yells in his face.) You lie! Tell me it is not true!
Manwë: Fëanor, let go of your son! (He pulls Fëanor off of Maglor.) Maglor, are you all right? (Maglor nods.) Why did Maedhros not come himself?
Maglor: He was... (shoots a cautious look at Fëanor.) Taking care of Finwë's body. (At this, Fëanor yells.)
Fëanor: Noooo!!!! (He runs off SL.)
Manwë: I see... go on with you, Maglor. (Maglor runs off SL after Fëanor. Manwë returns to his seat and sighs.) So it has come to pass; the evil has returned. (Lights dim. The Valar exit, and when the lights come back on, Fëanor is standing in front of a group of Elves; among them are his seven sons.)
Fëanor: Melkor, you shall bear that name no more. I name you Morgoth, the Black Enemy, and you shall henceforth be known by that name. And I swear this Oath to you. (He draws his sword and holds it in front of him, point up.) I swear by my sword, my honor, and my life as an Elf, never to rest until the Silmarils are returned to their rightful posessors: those of the House of Fëanor. To let no one, be he Vala, be he Elf, or be he Dwarf, bar me from fulfilling this Oath. This I swear. May the Everlasting Dark be called down upon me if I, Fëanor, break this Oath. (Ther is a silence, for this is an Oath that should not be so lightly sworn.) So who else comes to swear this Oath, to aid me in my quest? (Fingon stands up.)
Fingon: I feel great sorrow at Finwë's death and at the theft of the Silmarils. But it does not overly concern my house, and I do not wish to swear so great an Oath for this.
Fëanor: (a bit angrily.) Do you speak for all your house, Fingon?
Fingon: (looks around and sees that no one disagrees.) I believe I do. (He sits down.)
Fëanor: So the House of Fingolfin will not aid me. Will no one of my own blood swear?
Caranthir: I will swear with you, father. (Stands up and walks over to Fëanor and stands next to him, facing the audience. Curufin stands up.)
Curufin: And I. (stands next to Caranthir. Celegorm runs up and stands next to him.)
Fëanor: Three of my sons will come. No others?
Amrod: (He and Amras come and join the group.) Father, we will help you.
Fëanor: All but my eldest sons stand by me. Why do you not swear, Maedhros? And you, Maglor? (Maedhros and Maglor look abashed. Maedhros stands up.)
Maedhros: I should have joined you first, my father. I will
swear the Oath. (stands next to his brothers. He turns to look
at Maglor. Softly.) Will you not come, Maglor?
Maglor: (sighs and rises.) I am not convinced this is right,
but I will join you. (Stands next to Maedhros, who pats his brother
on the arm.)
Maedhros: (draws his sword and walks over to LC. He places his sword on the ground, hilt towards him, and kneels.) Well, if we are to do this, let it be done with! (His brothers do the same, forming a "v" shape with Maedhros at the point. In the second row are Maglor and Celegorm, then Caranthir and Curufin, then Amrod and Amras. They begin the Oath.)
7 Sons: I swear by my sword, (they take their swords and hold them point up in front of their faces.) my honor, (they rise on one knee.) and my life as an Elf, (they stand up.) never to rest until the Silmarils are returned to their rightful posessors: those of the House of Fëanor. To let no one, be he Vala, be he Elf, or be he Dwarf, bar me from fulfilling this Oath. This I swear. May the Everlasting Dark be called down upon me,
Maedhros: Maedhros...
Maglor: Maglor...
Celegorm: Celegorm...
Caranthir: Caranthir...
Curufin: Curufin...
Amrod: Amrod...
Amras: Amras...
7 Sons: if I break this Oath. (They sheathe their swords.)
Maglor: It is done. (He sounds slightly sad.)
Caranthir: (sounds rather excited.) Yes. Now for Morgoth. (He walks over to Fëanor.) Father... (Fëanor motions him to be silent.)
Maedhros: (steps back to Maglor and puts an arm around his shoulders.) Why so sad, Maglor? (He and his other brothers walk back to the other Elves. Maedhros and Maglor walk more slowly than the others.)
Maglor: I... am just not sure we did right.
Maedhros: What is wrong? We simply pledged to regain what is ours, fighting the source of evil while we do so. I see nothing to regret.
Maglor: (as they sit down.) Perhaps we will come to regret it one day, brother.
Fëanor: And now, who will come with me to Middle-Earth? (This proposal is met with silence.)
Elf3: (Stands up. Sceptically.) Why should we leave Valinor? We have a good life here.
Fëanor: Well, how do you expect us to fight Morgoth from Valinor? There is no way, so we must leave. But that is not all. If we go to Middle-Earth, we shall go to our freedom!
Elf3: What are you talking about, Fëanor?
Fëanor: The Valar say they would have us live here for our own
protection. However, I have discovered they do it out of jealousy
of the Elves. Afraid we would soon have more influence and power
than they, they used sweetened words to coax us here, to Valinor, where
they could keep their eyes on us. (Elves gasp.) Yes, we are
nearly their prisoners! But now they have gone too far! The
two trees of Valinor, which the Valar say were the protection of this land
are dead. But in truth, they were only there for the pleasure of
the Valar. And now, they want me to sacrifice the Silmarils so the
trees can return to life. Elves, it is time! The Noldor must
return to Middle-Earth, their rightful land! (Cheers greet this statement.) Let the proud Vanyar stay, and the peace-loving Teleri. We, the strong
Noldor, shall reclaim what is ours! (Amid the cheers, Elf3 stands
up.)
Elf3: How is it that you know this, Fëanor?
Fëanor: (The cheers stop; Fëanor looks sullenly at Elf3.) That is not for you to know. (He stalks off SR. With cries of "Off to Middle-Earth" and such, the Elves follow, all except Maedhros and Maglor. Maedhros looks deep in thought; Maglor kneels next to him.)
Maglor: (He repeats what Maedhros asked him earlier. Softly.) Why so sad, brother? (He makes a small grin.) I'm the one who is supposed to be like that.
Maedhros: (to no one.) Morgoth.
Maglor: What? What about Morgoth?
Maedhros: (only now does he look at Maglor.) It was Morgoth who told Fëanor those things.
Maglor: (concerned.) How do you know this?
Maedhros: I heard them talking, shortly after Morgoth had spoken to me. I did not mean to listen, but... (he trails of a bit miserably.) Fëanor worries me.
Maglor: It will be all right. (He squeezes Maedhros around the shoulders.)
Fëanor: (from off SR.) Maedhros! Maglor! Come! (Maedhros and Maglor run off SR. Lights dim and come back on.)