Tinuviel kept a firm hold of Beren's hand as they walked through the halls and passages of Menegroth. Elves turning their heads to stare as they passed. The Man was reminded a little of Nargothrond but here was less use of metal and gem and a more naturalistic style of art. Pillars were realistically carved and painted as trees, with the bright eyes of birds and beasts peeking from their foliage, and the walls were covered with woven hangings depicting Elves hunting, feasting and singing in a fair wood. Fountains played in the halls and clear water flowed in channels through the passages.
Suddenly an Elf moved forward to intercept them. "The King will receive the Man in the Great Hall, my Lady."
Tinuviel frowned fiercely at the messenger who wilted visibly under her displeasure and abruptly changed direction. Towing Beren by the hand she flounced through a long hall with pillars carved like mighty oak trees followed by a broad and echoing chamber with many slender columns shaped like birches. Then they entered a third hall that was like a beech grove and finally a fourth chamber pillared with great holly trees bright with berries. The Black and silver doors opened for them by bowing Elves were signed with the moon and stars. Tinuviel swept, Beren in her wake, into a vast domed chamber crowded with Elves.
He halted abruptly to gaze around him in wonder. Hemlock trees were carved upon the walls matching the great pillars upholding a ceiling jeweled like the night sky with the thousand stars of Varda. Fountains played in a clear pool in the center of the great chamber, and on its other side, enthroned beneath the interlaced branches of a silver tree and a golden, sat Thingol Greycloak with Melian his queen at his side. Tinuviel tugged urgently at his hand and Beren let her lead him around the fountains to the foot of the royal dais.
The King, his grey cloak glistening with stars and pale hair gleaming like moonlight beneath a circlet of silver and emerald, frowned darkly upon them - rather upon Beren! "Who are you that come hither as a thief and unbidden dare to approach my throne."
The Man winced. Thingol was angry all right, and who could blame him? He tried to formulate a conciliatory reply but Tinuviel was before him. "He is Beren son of Barahir, lord of Men, mighty foe of Morgoth, the tale of whose deeds is become a song even among the Elves!" she declaimed proudly, her clear voice ringing through the domed hall and awakening silvery echoes.
"Don't over do it, sweetheart," Beren muttered, embarrassed.
"Let the Man speak for himself!" the King snapped at his daughter. "What would you here, unhappy mortal, and for what cause have you left your own land to enter this which is forbidden to such as you? Can you show reason why my power should not be laid upon you in heavy punishment for your insolence and folly?"
Beren felt his own temper stir, no doubt he was in the wrong but Thingol's words were over harsh and unfitting towards one who had been accepted as a guest. "No reason," he said clearly, "save for your own royal word given to your daughter." Thingol blinked and the Man continued: "I humbly confess I have broken both your law and courteous custom, my Lord King, and you are justly indignant. But acquit me at least of intending offense. "My country was overrun by the creatures of the enemy and all my companions slain. Hard pressed I sought escape by the only route still open to me through the Nan Dungortheb."
Thingol's eyes widened and the watching Elves murmured their shock. The King swallowed; "You lie, none can pass alive through the valley of dreadful death."
"I understand well your doubt, Lord King, and so I forgive you the word lie," Beren answered coldly. "If you cannot see I speak the truth, no doubt the Queen can." He looked directly at Melian, into light filled eyes like his Tinuviel's. "You and I both know what power that brought me safe through the Dungortheb, and through your webs of shadow and confusion," he said to her quietly. "But I do not know for what purpose, do you Lady?"
She shook her head once, stiffly. "No." And she lied.
Beren frowned, then realized of course she would not wish to speak of such things in open hall. He would have to find an opportunity to talk to her later, alone. The King too was frowning, this time at his wife.
Melian returned his look levelly. "He speaks the truth, my Lord, and your manners do Doriath no honor."
Thingol looked uncomfortable. "I was perhaps over harsh," he conceded.
"My Lord," Beren said earnestly, "my father would have used more words and harder to any stranger he found keeping company with his daughter without his knowledge or sanction. Please believe had I known I was in Doriath and Tinuviel was its princess I would have acted differently."
...
Beren grinned at his mother. "Remember the look on Father's face when Bel and Em admitted to hiding wolf welps in hay barn? King Thingol had the exact same expression on his when Tinuviel dragged me up in front of him. It was all I could do to keep a straight face myself."
"Father behaved abominably," Luthien snapped.
"He behaved the way any father of a beautiful daughter would," Beren corrected. "I don't blame him a bit. In fact I rather like your father, sweetheart, he reminds me of my own."
"I'm sure Barahir never tried to murder a guest!" Thingol's daughter returned.
"Neither did yours." said Beren.
...
Luthien was unhappy. Father had been atrociously rude to Anorion - Beren - and now everybody seemed to assume as a matter of course that the Man would soon be leaving Menegroth. "But I don't want him to go!" she half wailed to Mablung and Beleg as they escorted her back to her own chambers after depositing Beren in his.
"You can't keep a Man as a pet, my Lady." Mablung chided.
"Especially not that Man!" Beleg agreed emphatically. "He is a lord of his own people and King Finrod's sworn vassal."
"And a hero famed throughout Beleriand for his deeds," Mablung continued. "I shudder to think what would be sung and told about us should we try to hold him against his will!"
"It would not be against his will!" Luthien wailed. "He wants to be with me, he told me so!"
"And no doubt he meant it, Princess," Beleg said kindly, "weary and heartsick as he was. But thanks to your care he is well now and ready to return to his own people."
"Luthien," Mablung said very gently, "surely you see it is better for both of you that he go? you can have no future together." She stared at him, tears running down her face and he continued compassionately but firmly. "He is Mortal, Luthien, he will fade and die in a few short years by our measure. It would be unfair to expect him to spend the little time he has as your playmate. Let him go back to his own kind to find comfort in the arms of a Mortal Woman and beget sons to continue his line."
And what about me? she thought despairingly as the two Elves bowed low and went on their way, leaving her standing at the door to her apartments. Why didn't anybody understand? Beren was not a pet or playmate he was her life! Without him she would fade and die as surely as any Mortal, she knew she would. Suddenly she turned and ran back up the passages to Beren's quarters careless of the startled looks and whispers of those she passed.
The outer chamber was empty and she burst without knock or other ceremony into the inner room. "When you said you would never leave me, you meant it didn't you? oh please say you meant it!" Beren straightened from the wash basin face and hands dripping to stare at her in astonishment. Her words tumbled over each other in a desperate spate: "We don't have to stay in Doriath, I'll go with you to Nargothrond. Finrod is my cousin as well as your lord he'd welcome me I know he would. I can give you sons to carry on your line as well as any Mortal girl. I'll go live among your people if that's what you want - I'll do anything, go anywhere, as long as we can be together!"
The Man recovered himself and crossed the room in four long strides to clasp her in his arms. She clung to him sobbing. "Be still, my Tinuviel, be calm. I'm not going anywhere just yet. All's well, all's well." gradually the tears and trembling stopped. Gently he pushed her away. "Are you calm now, my darling? Can we talk sensibly?"
She gulped, wiped her eyes on her sleeve and nodded. He led her back into the outer room and sat down beside her on a couch. "I am not the first of my family to fall in love with an Elf," he began, "my father's aunt loved the Lord Aegnor and he her but he felt the differences between them were too great for happiness and so he left her hoping she would forget him." Beren smiled a little. "But we Men are not so fickle as your folk seem to believe. My aunt never wed and so their parting did naught but render both miserable."
Luthien, paradoxically, brightened hopefully. "You mean -"
"I mean I'm not going to make the same mistake." He said firmly. "If we're going to be miserable in the end we might as well have some joy first."
Luthien sighed, relaxed against him. "That is how I feel."
"Then you'll marry me?"
"Oh yes!"
...
"So all we had to do was tell King Thingol and Queen Melian that their one and only daughter was going to marry a short lived, landless Mortal and follow him to Nargothrond and wherever else he decided to wander." Beren smiled wryly. "I didn't expect them to take it calmly."
"And I didn't expect them to be so completely indifferent to my wishes and my happiness," Luthien said bitterly.