Caranthir: We have lain idle too long. We can attack Morgoth now, when he will not expect it.
Curufin: That is what Maedhros did. Look what happened-
Caranthir: (cuts him off.) So who will support us? (At this point Maedhros enters silently SR and stands UR of his brothers, who continue talking, standing CC.) Fingon will not. Maybe Finrod. All that matters is that we have enough Elves to be able to be able to make successful attack on Morgoth. I want to win, not to be defeated, not even once. Now-
Maedhros: I beg your pardon, brothers. (His voice and scathing look belie his next statement, and the on he just said.) I could not help overhearing you. (Celegorm, Curufin, and Caranthir bunch together, as if afraid. Maedhros starts to walk towards the front of the stage; during this whole tirade he continues to circle around slowly until he is SL. His brothers turn with him, to face him.) So you wish to attack Morgoth. You are fools to do so! (His voice softens and becomes a bit more pleading, though barely.) I, too, once wished to do what you now want to. I suffered for that wish. (He waves his maimed arm at them meaningfully.) Whatever else you do, take not that path. (He reaches SL and stops.) Do not make the same mistake I did. I should be example enough. (His voice becomes more menacing as he notices his brothers draw warily back from him.) What's the matter? Are you frightened of me? (He shakes his head, as if he doubts this.) Or... are you frightened of staying still? (There is a silence, then Maedhros sighs.) There is nothing wrong with taking no action. That is all I will say. (His voice becomes pleading.) But whatever you do, do not do this. (He exits SL. His brothers recover and take a few steps forward.)
Celegorm: (snorts and says scathingly.) Well, Morgoth has done one thing I would never have thought possible: calmed Maedhros. Since when has he been the master of wise decisions? He is not worthy of the name of the House of Fëanor.
Caranthir: No, indeed he is hardly worthy of his own name. "Glitter of Metal". (He sniffs disdainfully.) He runs from any sword that he might actually have to use to fight an enemy. I say we do not listen to him.
Curufin: (a bit angrily.) Brothers! I am ashamed of you, speaking that way of our kin. He is right. We should not attack Morgoth.
Caranthir: (glares at Curufin, then nods grudgingly.) Oh, I guess I agree. But I'm so bored just sitting here doing nothing. (At this point Maedhros enters SR.)
Maedhros: Oh, you're still here. (Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin whirl around to face him.)
Celegorm: You again? Have you come to give us another lecture about how foolish our actions are?
Maedhros: (smiles ruefully.) Are you mad about that? Sorry, but frightening you was the only way to get my point driven home. No, it's not about that. You remember that Elf I sent to Doriath?
Curufin: Silenor?
Maedhros: Yes, him. The same one who was sent to warn the Valar about Morgoth. Well, he has returned from Doriath and he says he has some news he must tell all of us. Now where are Amrod and Amras?
Caranthir: They're not here. Can't you even keep track of who is in your own house? (Sarcasticly.) Or are there too many people visiting the great Maedhros, ruler of all, in his fortress at Himring, for you to-
Maedhros: (cuts him off angrily.) Silence, Caranthir! Sometimes I wonder if you have ever become more than a spoiled child! I told you that for your own good; there is no reason to be so sarcastic. I most certainly do not rule all, as as you say. But you just never do know when to let matters lie. (He sighs and shakes his head.) This is a waste of my time. Maglor! Silenor! They're in here! (At his call, Maglor and Silenor enter SR.) So, what do you have to tell us, Silenor?
Silenor: Most of this actually happened a few years ago, but I did not learn of it 'til now. Beren, a mortal Man, met and fell in love with Luthien, daughter of Thingol.
Maglor: Thingol?
Silenor: The King of Doriath. (He gives a small laugh.) I discovered something: Thingol is as old as I, for his real name is Elwë, and he used to be the leader of the Teleri with his brother Olwë. His strange disappearence is now accounted for. But that has no importance now. So, Beren and Luthien... (Silenor, Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin exit SR. Thingol enters SR, Beren and Luthien enter SL.)
Thingol: Who is that with you, Luthien?
Luthien: This, father, is the man I love; Beren.
Beren: (bows to Thingol.) My Lord.
Thingol: What do you want here? (He seems cold and stiff.)
Beren: I ask leave to wed your daughter, my Lord.
Thingol: (roars.) What? You, a mortal Man, wish to wed my daughter, the fairest of all Elves? Never!
Luthien: Father, please! (she runs forward a few paces.)
Thingol: Beled or whoever you are- get out at once or I shall have my Elves drag you out!
Luthien: His name is Beren! Please, Father, let us wed! (She kneels in fron of her father pleadingly. Thingol sighs.)
Thingol: My daughter... you are the jewel of my life; I would not lose you to this man. (He look hard at Beren, then back to Luthien.) How do you know he loves you?
Beren: (stepping forward.) I will gladly pay any price you ask to be able to wed Luthien.
Thingol: (slowly, though he sounds very sure of himself.) Very well... bring me one of the three Silmarils from Morgoth's crown. (Beren and Luthien gasp, horrified.)
Luthien: But-
Thingol: A jewel for my jewel. Go now. (Beren, with an anguished look at Luthien, bows and exits SL. Luthien rises to follow, but Thingol says firmly.) Stay, Luthien.
Luthien: No, I will not stay! If he must so this, I will go with him! (Thingol grabs at her, but she dodges and, scrambling to her feet, she runs off SL after Beren.)
Thingol: Luthien, no! Please do not go with him! (He makes as if to run after her, but stops after a few paces.) You will go with him to die, then. There is no way he can come back from this alive. (He shakes his head and exits SR. Beren and Luthien enter SL.)
Beren: There is Angband. (They look at SR for a moment, then Beren turns to Luthien.) My love, you do not need to come. I have no wish for you to die as well as me.
Luthien: (grabs Beren's hand and pulls him forward, towards SR.) Shhhh... I'll have none of that. If Morgoth is off his guard... I can help. (Beren shakes his head and follows. They exit off SR, into the audience. While they circle around to SL, slowly and cautiously, Morgoth enters SL. Gothmog enters SR. Beren and Luthien crouch warily SL.)
Morgoth: (to Gothmog.) So, Gothmog. How comes my army?
Gothmog: Very well, my Lord. But it would be quicker to get more Orcs if we could simply capture more Elves and... change... them. And... my Lord? (He pauses hesitantly.)
Morgoth: Yes, Gothmog?
Gothmog: My Lord, it would give me great pleasure to see one of the sons of Fëanor become an Orc.
Morgoth: (laughs sourly.) Still in a snit over the one you caught escaping? That was a long time ago, Gothmog. But we shall see. Now... (pauses to think. Luthien jumps up onto the stage, silently. She turns to Beren.)
Luthien: (quietly.) Cover your ears. (Beren complies, Luthien steps forward and begins to sing. At the sound of her voice, Morgoth and Gothmog turn around and stare at her in stupefied amazement.) Sleep you want; Sleep you shall get; lay your head down; you are caught in Sleep's net.
Morgoth: (beginning to sway; Gothmog falls under the influence of the spell.) What are you... doing here, little... she-Elf? (He groans and falls in a heap. Luthien guestures at Beren who uncovers his ears, draws his dagger, and comes.)
Luthien: Useful little trick my mother Melian taught me. But hurry. I do not know how long it will last. (Beren shakes his head in wonderment and kneels next to Morgoth. Using his knife, he carefully pries one of the Silmarils from Morgoth's crown.)
Beren: There. (He pauses.) Do you think I should take them all? (But at this point, Morgoth begins to stir. Beren drops his dagger in surprise.)
Luthien: (Begins to run off SL, into the audience.) No! (Beren follows. They circle around, back on SR, and exit SR. Morgoth wakes up fully.)
Morgoth: Where did she go? (looks around wildly. Yells.) Gothmog! (sees Gothmog lying down still.) Gothmog, you idiot! Wake up! (crawls over to Gothmog and shakes him. Gothmog begins to wake.) Do you know who she was?
Gothmog: No, my Lord.
Morgoth: Then get out! (He stands up and glares at Gothmog as he crawls hurredly from the room, not even bothering to get to his feet. Morgoth walks over to where he had fallen, picks up Beren's dagger, and stares at it.) An Elf maiden and with her, by the looks of this, a man. That does not tell me enough! And what did they want? (He stops talking suddenly and puts a hand to the first Silmaril in his crown. He winces as he touches it, but nods, satisfied, feels for the second and then the third. When he finds the last missing, however, he gives an outraged roar.) They took one of my jewels! This I shall never forgive! I shall hunt them down and torture them so much that they will wish they had never heard the name of Morgoth. (He quiets.) But... I do not know who they are. (He pauses.) It is no matter. I shall wait, and sooner or later a rumor shall come to me, and then I will find them! (He exits SL. Silenor, Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin enter SR. Silenor finishes his story.)
Silenor: So Beren and Luthien returned home and were wed. Thingol decided to have the Silmaril set into a necklace, and had some Dwarves begin crafting one. But the Dwarves grew covetous of their work and slew Thingol for it. On their escape, however, the necklace was dropped into a river and lost. And then, but a few months ago, Dior, son of Beren and Luthien, found it. It is now in his possession.
Celegorm: (laughs delightedly.) So one of the Silmarils is out of Morgoth's foul grasp! This is good. Now we can at last regain at least one of them! (Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin start to rejoice; even Maglor joins in.)
Maglor: (smiles.) I must admit, my heart has long desired this. (However, Maedhros stands silently to one side. Celegorm turns to him.)
Celegorm: (friendly.) Why so quiet, Maedhros?
Maedhros: (starts, as if coming out of another realm of thought; he gives a feeble laugh.) Oh. I... I do not know what to think. My heart rejoices; this shows Morgoth can be defeated, and by Elves, too. He is not all-powerful, as he would have us believe. Yet... (his voice takes on a darker tone.) the Oath has been awakened. Long has it lain sleeping; I have sought to avoid it. But it has returned.
Celegorm: Do not think of it like that. So, what shall we say to Dior?
Maedhros: (nods decicively, as if steeling himself for what will come.) Silenor, send a messenger to Dior, saying the sons of Fëanor demand the return of the Silmaril, which is rightfully theirs. Go now. (Silenor bows and departs SR. Maedhros jerks his head SL, motioning his brothers to follow.) Come. We have plans to make. (All the brothers but Maglor exit SL. Maglor stares after them, then after Silenor. He then turns his head upwards to the sky.)
Maglor: Iluvatar, let it come to no more than a messenger. (he exits SR. Lights dim and come back on. Maedhros walks on stage from SL, with Caranthir.)