Morgoth: (from of SR.) Orcs, attack! Balrogs forward! (more figures run on and full battle is joined, though it is more from the sounds that we can tell. After a few moments, we hear voices over the fray.) Retreat! Angband forces, retreat!
Maedhros: They're leaving!
Maglor: Elves, last attack! Then retreat! (The battle noises slowly stop.)
Maedhros: (when all is silent.) Bring the wounded back to the camp. Maglor, do you know where Fëanor is?
Maglor: No, I- (a shout from Celegorm cuts him off.)
Celegorm: He's over here! Hurry! (The lights go back on as Maedhros and Maglor run over to where Fëanor lies, wounded, LL.)
Maglor: (kneels beside Fëanor, consternation on his face.) Father, is it bad? What can we do for you?
Fëanor: (weakly.) Maglor, my gentle son. You are too late to help me, though that is not your fault.
Maedhros: (kneels next to Maglor.) Are you sure there is nothing we can do?
Fëanor: Yes, Maedhros. It was a Balrog, one too strong for me.
Maedhros: (panicking.) But... the Elves, especially the Noldor, have learned much skill in healing... did Manwë ever teach you anything that could help you?
Fëanor: Shut your mouth, Maedhros! You are not helping! (Maedhros flinches when his father yells.)
Maedhros: (stammering.) S... Sorry, father.
Maglor: (firmly, a bit angrily.) Father! Don't get mad at him! He's just trying to help you!
Fëanor: (slowly.) Maedhros, I am sorry for having yelled at you, but my time is up, try what you will. When I am gone, rule well. You will be a fine leader of the Noldor and our house.
Maedhros: Don't say that! (But Fëanor has turned his attention elsewhere.)
Fëanor: Maglor... you ever were the wisest of my sons... help your brothers... advise them well. (At this, Caranthir shifts angrily.) And all of you... never forget the Oath. (Fëanor gasps, and lies still.)
Maglor: He... he is gone.
Maedhros: (softly.) May your spirit meet up with your father Finwë's spirit in the silent halls of Mandos. Goodbye, Fëanor. (He stands up.)
Celegorm: So you're our new king, Maedhros.
Maedhros: (angrily.) I do not wish to think of that. (he brushes past his brothers and off SL.)
Celegorm: Where's he off to now? No doubt somewhere private to cry like a babe. (He sniffs disdainfully.) Don't you agree, Curufin? (There is no reply.) Curufin? (Celegorm turns and sees Curufin lying face down on the ground crying silently.) Oh, Curufin. Don't start crying like that soft-hearted... Elf... (at this point, Celegorm breaks down, sits next to his brother, and starts cring along with him. Caranthir sighs and shakes his head. He guestures to Maglor and the carry Fëanor off, leaving Curufin, Celegorm, and the bodies of the Elves slain in the battle on stage. The lights go out. Maedhros comes back on stage.)
Maedhros: Curufin? Celegorm? Come with me. We're going back to camp. (Curufin, Celegorm, and Maedhros exit SR. All Elves exit. Morgoth's voice is heard.)