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PostPosted: Mon Apr 25, 2011 7:01 pm 
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Season 1 Episode 3

Scene opens on Noldor workshop, Valinor
Camera brightens on workshop. Several Elves working together forging slim knives for hunting. They admire each other's work, smiling often. Melkor enters left. Some Elves greet him, others concentrate on delicate work.


Melkor: Greetings. I see this forge is busy today.
Angrod: Greetings, Lord Melkor
Elf 1: Sit and give us your wisdom, if you will.
Aegnor: [holding up the knife he is sharpening] We hunt with our cousins soon, and we mean to fill our pots with good meat.
Elf 2: [wry expression] You mean to fill your bellies, or I know you not. [draws an arrow head out of the fire, pounds it flat. sparks fly]
Melkor: [indulgent chuckle] Of course you do. How else will you grow to your full strength? [takes the knife Aegnor offers. examines it.] This is beautiful work. Your skill grows daily, though you have yet to match the craft of your uncle Fëanor. [Aegnor blushes, obviously pleased]

Melkor: [hands blade back] Such a knife will serve well to skin a buck or a sheep. But what more could you need, here in this paradise created for your welfare?
[All the Elves slowly lay down work, staring at him in silence]
Melkor: [hastily, as if avoiding an awkward truth] I only mean to say that here nothing will threaten your place. There are no great beasts to fight, nothing to drag you into the darkness. Not even the threat of newcomers who would usurp the favour of your protectors.
Angrod: What newcomers?
Aegnor: [confused] We have no need of protectors...
Melkor: You did not know? [turns to leave] Never mind. Forget I said anything.
Elf 1: Lord Melkor, you cannot leave without explanation now.
Melkor: I think not. No doubt my brother Manwë will tell you when he feels the time is right for you to know all. I would not wish to cause you needless worry. [He leaves. Camera pans over Elves, who look at each other in confusion. We see suspicion grow in their faces. Fade.]

* * *
Camera open Melkor’s workshop.
A forge blazes, throwing firelight over the scene. Melkor holds a crucible over the fire, while Maiar servants prepare moulds on a marble worktop. Something thick and clear bubbles from the crucible, like molten glass. Melkor pulls the crucible back, turns to the worktable, and pours a clear liquid into the moulds.

Cut to same scene: Longer shadows and the forge now glowing coals show that it is later. A Maia holds one of the moulds. He appears nervous. Melkor picks up a small hammer and taps the mould. We hear a crack, and the Maia lets the mould fall open. The clear gem inside shatters.
Focus on Maia, who cringes...
Focus on Melkor, obviously angry. He controls himself and turns away, gripping the head of the hammer. A loud crack, and bits of iron sift through his fingers. Fade.


* * *

Fade back in to Melkor’s workshop, early morning.
Melkor sifts shining sand into a crucible. He picks up a ceramic container, glances about to make sure his servants are not watching, and taps some white dust into the crucible. He shakes the crucible, then puts it in the fire.

Focus on Maiar servants, who watch anxiously. Focus on Melkor, smiling. Shift to crucible. It starts to steam, then tremble. Sparks and bits of molten substance shoot out the top. The crucible explodes. Melkor screams his frustration. Fade.


* * *

Camera opens on Fëanor’s workshop.
Fëanor runs a hunting knife over a turning stone. We see a chip in the blade. Maedhros rubs oil into the blade of another hunting knife. Several knives lay on the workbench beside him. Curufin and Celegorm check fletching on several quivers of hunting arrows. Fëanor lifts the knife he is sharpening and lets light from the door run along the blade. Melkor’s shadow blocks the light.


Maedhros: [tightens grip on knife. Voice neutral.] Lord Melkor. What brings you here?
Melkor: And a Good Afternoon to you, young prince. [examines knives] Wonderful craftsmanship here. Never have I seen blades so strong, yet so light. Are these your work?
Fëanor: [dourly] They are my design...
Melkor: [smiles] But no doubt your sons helped in their making. [puts down knife. Turns to Maedhros]Such beautiful hands… do you plan an outing? [Fëanor and Maedhros turn back to their work without answer]
Celegorm: We hunt with our cousins.
Curufin: [grins wryly] Mother says she needs some quiet.
Maedhros: [glares at brothers] You should try it.
Melkor: My, my! What spirited boys… [to Fëanor] You must have your hands full indeed with such a family.
Fëanor:[responds with a tight lipped glare]
Melkor:Then again, children are a blessing Eru has given to His children. I sometimes wish we Valar had been so favoured. I would enjoy having children of my own. And no doubt this explains the blades I saw being forged among your brother’s people.
Fëanor: My half-brothers attend to their own. As do I.
Melkor: Of course, of course. Still, I saw blades being created that were nearly the equal of these. And, if I may say so, a bit longer. Thicker through the tang, more balanced to the base. [makes sure Fëanor and sons are listening] I wonder what use such weapons would be against deer? Surely they would be too long to remove the hide from a stag without ruining it.
Maedhros: I am certain Uncle has his reasons.
Melkor: Naturally. Only it has been long since Lord Fëanor has come much among his father’s household. Some may forget who is truly the eldest of Finwë’s sons. Not that I can fault the High-King for his second marriage. As I said, children are a blessing.
Fëanor: [curtly] My father loves me well enough.
Melkor: Of course. After all, it was Míriel that Finwë truly loved, was it not? The second wife was only to fill his bed, never to touch his heart. It must be hard for the younger sons to hold their place, knowing that your mother will ever keep your father’s heart for her own. Were I in their shoes, I should wish to supplant the favoured son.
Maedhros: [gathers knives] I think Eru was wise to make certain your kind cannot father children.
Melkor: No doubt. [looks toward door, as if checking the time] Now I must take my leave. Enjoy your hunt. [leaves]

Fëanor stands. Checks knife edge. Sheaths knife.

Maedhros: Ada . . .
Celegorm: Do you think he was right?
Curufin: Could Fingolfin supplant you?
Celegorm: Would Grandfather let him?
Maedhros: I would put no trust in anything that one said.
Fëanor: [throws coal on the forge. Pumps bellows until flame flares. Picks up bar stock] I think it is time we turned our hands to other weapons… [cut.]

* * *

Cut to clips of other Noldor in the city secretly forging swords and axes and spears…Camera fade.

* * *

Camera focus on Melkor’s workshop. Melkor pours clear molten liquid into a mould. Mould shatters. Melkor strikes a Maia. Maia flies into wall, slides to the floor and lays still.

Cut to Melkor’s workshop, again, later. Maiar servants gather around workbench. Melkor opens a mould. The gem is black and smoky. Shift to Maiar servants running out the door, shoving each other out of the way. Melkor screams frustration. Fade.


* * *

Camera fade in to Varda’s Vats of Light.
Melkor approaches, carrying a wooden bowl, cloaked, looking around to make certain he is unobserved. He draws a soft pouch from his clothing and pours three clear gems into his hand. The gems sparkle in the light from the Vats. Melkor dips light into the bowl and drops gems into the light. They glow brightly. Focus on Melkor, smiling in satisfaction.

Melkor lifts gems out of light. They glow. Melkor laughs in triumph, clasps gems in hands and raises over his head, dancing in joy. One gem slips from his hands and rolls into a shadow. Melkor pauses.

Focus on fallen gem. No light shines from the shadow. Melkor examines two gems in his hand. He wipes one with a finger. The light clings to his finger like honey, leaving the gem unremarkable. Melkor hurls remaining gems away.
Camera shift to horses and riders leaving town, distant. Melkor watches them go.


Melkor: I will find your secret, Spirit of Fire. And when I do, I will revel in your despair as I strip everything from you, piece by piece. [Camera fade]

* * *

Cut to Fëanor’s workshop.
All is dark, the forge glows softly. Melkor slips in through the outside door. He glances at a bar of silver and some tools, including tongs, lying on a workbench.

Melkor: [chuckles and lifts silver bar.] So hardworking you will not lay aside your art to enjoy your hunt? And how will you feel when your efforts serve only to my benefit? [replaces the silver and turns his attention to jars on a shelf. He opens one, grimaces, replaces it and picks another. A door opens. Melkor glances up nervously. He shrinks into the shadows by the bin of iron bar stock. Nerdanel enters, wearing a leather apron over a gown with tightly laced sleeves. Her hair is tied back under a plain scarf]

Nerdanel: [smiles, shakes her head indulgently] Well, all finally quiet. I wager they will come home starved and filthy. No matter. It is my turn now. [throws coals on the forge. Reaches for bellows.]

[Melkor shifts. Bar stock rattles]

Nerdanel: [glances up] Is someone there?
Melkor: [shrinks further into shadows]
Nerdanel: [shrugs. Blows forge to flame. Turns to shelf, reaches for silver bar stock. Freezes. Camera shift to Melkor, outlined by flaring fire]
Nerdanel: [holds silver as a weapon] Show yourself.
Melkor: [holds up hands] Greetings, my lady. I had not expected to find you about.
Nerdanel: That is apparent. What are you doing here?
Melkor: Your lord asked that I look in on things while he was away. He feared he had left his workshop in shambles and you would be displeased --
Nerdanel: [backs toward tools on forge] Liar! Why do you come to spy in our home?
Melkor: Should you not be attending to your younger children? Twins can be so mischievous.
Nerdanel: [lifts silver] Touch my boys and all will see just how truly invincible you are!
Melkor: But I only meant –
Nerdanel: Off with you!
Melkor: I am going. [moves toward door. Hesitates at the last moment, turns back towards Nerdanel]
Melkor: Lady, I swear by Eru I mean you no harm!
Nerdanel: [grimly] And I am Varda, Queen of the Stars! [seizes tongs, thrusts them into the forge, and pulls out a large flaming chunk of coal wich she jabs towards Melkor.] Get you gone!
Melkor: [eyeing the coal] That cannot harm me. I am a creature of flame and darkness.
Nerdanel: Then you should not be worried… [shoves coal closer to Melkor’s face] Move.
[Melkor stumbles backwards.. Nerdanel backs him out the door and slams it.]
[From outside we hear a bolt shoot home. Shift to Melkor, glaring, bared teeth]
Melkor: [mutters] Harridan! [louder] Lady, you will badly regret this day’s mischief! [fade]

* * *

Camera pans across the city of Valmar and out over the walls towards the plains:
Wee see Aulë’s great court, filled with a specimen of each of the trees of Arda; the Court of Aulë is filled with magic webs woven of the light of Laurelin and Telperion and with the glint of the stars. We see his forge, and his carpentry workshop, then the camera travels up the path and inside the Mansions of Aulë. Scene of feasting in a great hall: The Noldor craftsmen and their families are enjoying the hospitality of Aulë and Yavanna. There is a great boar roasting on a spit, tables are laden with sweetmeats and fruits of all kinds. Wine and mead is flowing freely. Focus on Aulë drinking from a large flagon, and merrily regaling the Noldor with tales of the creation of Arda, maybe how he created the Two Lamps, etc. Fëanor and some of his sons are lounging in a corner with some friends and neighbours.


Elf 1: I deem our Lord Aulë is sufficiently mellow as to let slip some secrets if we press him hard enough!
Elf 2: Now is our chance – Fëanor, you are highest in his favour, you should ask what truth there is in Melkor’s riddles…
Fëanor: Perhaps I will chance my arm… [gets up and approaches Aulë, who is having his flagon refilled by Yavanna. She offers some to Fëanor, who holds out his goblet.] Many thanks, my Lady! [bows]
Aulë: Ah, Master Smith – I have been looking forward to sharing some discourse with you all evening, why have you been so reticent tonight?
Fëanor: Forgive me, my Lord, but since my recent success creating, ahm, certain gems, I have found little respite from the attentions of my fellow Elves.
Aulë: Well, you are without doubt the most famous Elf in Valinor now. You should stand up and be proud of your achievements. We Valar certainly are!
Fëanor: Oh, yes, we Noldor are blossoming under the protection of the Valar, are we not? Even exceeding expectations, perchance? Soon, our skills and our creative power might well grow too great for your comfort. Perhaps we shall need more room to exercise our talents and think for ourselves…
Aulë: [rather befuddled] I am not sure that I follow your meaning...speak plainly, young lord! [other Elves have started to listen in and Maedhros and Maglor approach cautiously.]
Fëanor: I mean, that is why we were brought here, is it not? To keep us safe from Melkor’s evil in Middle-earth. But, surely, now that he is reformed, there is no danger to us anymore. We could go back and build our own kingdoms there…unless the Valar have other plans for Middle-earth?
Meadhros: Yes, why should we not have Middle-earth for our own, if there are no other Children of Eru to govern and cultivate that land? There are no others coming, are there?
Aulë: [flustered] We, uh, ...we are simply fulfilling the Will of Eru…We feared to leave you in the deceits of the starlit dusk and we longed to have you live in fellowship with us, to teach you our knowledge…
Maglor: You did not bring us here out of jealousy, then, or so that others might rule Middle-earth in our stead?
Aulë: Certainly not, what manner of ideas are these? Who has spread such idle rumours?
Fëanor: Oh, whispers are heard, here and there; people talk when they have nothing better to do. People listen, and enlarge on what they have heard in passing. But I warn you, there is talk abroad of “newcomers” to supplant us. [Aulë blanches, glances at Yavanna in consternation who looks worried, too, and he empties his flagon hurriedly. Camera fade]

* * *

Cut to scene, next morning, of Aulë entering Manwë’s Halls on Mount Taniquetil.
His form is a little wavery, perhaps reflecting some inner turmoil. Manwë is on the terrace of the watchtower with Varda. Aulë shades his eyes from the early morning sunlight as he steps outside.


Manwë: Brother, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company this early in the morning? [concerned] You do not seem yourself...is all not well?

Aulë: My spirit is somewhat troubled…I fear my news is urgent and cannot wait.
Varda: [archly] Drink this, Brother, it should ease your spirit...…[hands him a glass of clear liquid.]
Aulë: [takes glass and downs it in one. Sinks gratefully into a chair.] Thank you. Wisest amongst us, I bow to your superiority in matters of the Eldar, but I fear unrest amongst the Noldor, at least. They came to my house last night for feasting, and left with talk of dissension and rumours of the coming of Men.
Varda: How can this be? Who among us has dare reveal Eru’s plans to the Eldar?
Aulë: [rises to his feet hurriedly in indignation] I swear I have said nothing, nor has Yavanna. I fear the hand of our errant brother in all of this… [groans and sinks back down, clasping his head in his hands]
Manwë: No, I cannot believe Melkor is involved in this – he has sworn that he has learned the error of his ways and is atoning for his wrong doings. The Eldar must have been idly speculating!
Aulë: Not just talk, I have noticed that they have shields displaying the tokens of their houses and kindred that vie one with another; there is an increase in the number of hunting knives and axes being made. Brother, I beg you; we should stamp on the sparks of these lies before the fire has a chance to take hold. Call a meeting, speak to the Eldar!
Varda: It is good advice, husband.
Manwë: [nods] So be it. [camera fade]

* * * * * * *

_________________
There is magic in long-distance friendships. They let you relate to other human beings in a way that goes beyond being physically together and is often more profound.
~Diana Cortes


Last edited by Elentári on Mon Apr 25, 2011 7:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Mon Apr 25, 2011 7:21 pm 
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CONTINUED...

Scene opens outside Fëanor's house:
Camera focus on Fëanor and Sons returning from their hunt.
They are joking with Fingon, Turgon and Aredhel. Dogs run beside the horses. Game animals are strapped over one of the pack animals. As they near the gates, the cousins make their farewells and they ride off. Nerdanel enters left, with Amrod and Amras.


Amrod: [admiring the catch] Who shot the stag?
Maglor: Aredhel brought him down.
Celegorm: [slides off his horse] And it was one fine shot, too. [hands a bow with a broken string to Amrod] Afterward it was not so good. I promised to repair this for her!
[Camera shift to Nerdanel and Fëanor. Fëanor dismounts and walks toward her. Camera focus on his face, smiling. They embrace.]
Fëanor: [presses face into her hair] I missed you.
Nerdanel: [soft laugh] You smell like a campfire.
Fëanor: No, I smell like old blood and sweat.
Nerdanel: I thought you would be home today. There is bath water hot.
Fëanor: [chuckle]
Caranthir: [complete disgust] For the love of Eru!
Amras: [wrinkles his nose] Disgusting. [to Maedhros] Will they never cease?
Maedhros: Not if they are fortunate, little brother. [looks at their prey] Care to help lay these up?
Amras: [excited whoop]
[Camera follows Fëanor and Nerdanel as they walk toward the house, arms around each other]
Nerdanel: [over shoulder] There is bath water for all of you. [cut.]

* * *

Cut to Master Bath. Fëanor lounges in a large brass tub. Nerdanel hands him a cup of wine. She is barefoot and wearing a light wrap.
Fëanor: You know, if we stay in here another hour those boys should have our catch taken care of before I get dressed.
Nerdanel: [sits on the edge of the tub, just out of reach] Something happened while you were away.
Fëanor: Nothing you could not handle, I trust. [sips wine]
Nerdanel: Melkor came to your workshop.
Fëanor: What did that jailcrow want?
Nerdanel: He did not say. He left almost as quickly as I discovered him. [sets wine on floor. Moves closer to Fëanor.] He frightens me.
Fëanor: You need have no fear of him. He is nothing but a chained dog.
Nerdanel: That may be, but his growl may do worse than his bite ever could.
Fëanor: [Shrugs and pulls her toward the water. Camera fade]

* * *

Camera opens on bedroom of Fëanor and Nerdanel n their bedchamber:
They are asleep, but Fëanor is obviously dreaming, tossing and turning. We are pulled into his dreams and see a montage of very brief clips:
- Fëanor riding a horse as Balrogs run along side and he is clearly one of their group... he looks confused and out of place but rides along just the same
- Fëanor using the silmarils to soak up the last drops of light from the Two Trees as Melkor and Ungoliant stand by laughing at him
- Fëanor bouncing up and down on the knee of Melkor like a small child as Melkor laughs sarcastically in a bizarre dark courtroom scene while all his monsters laugh at Fëanor
- Fëanor watching all his relatives climb into coffins and silently nod to him as the lids are closed
- Fëanor watching as the swan boats are afire while thousands of other Elves are turned into Elven icicles
- Fëanor stands on a high hill watching hundreds of thousands of Men landing ashore in armour and with strange looking weapons]


Fëanor: [in his sleep] Curse you Melkor! Curse you, you black foe of the world…
cut back to the dream:
- a body erupts into sudden flame, and Fëanor wakes from his sleep… he is scared to death knowing that much of his dream will become reality but he just does not know which…


Nerdanel: What is it, my Love, is something wrong?
Fëanor: No… just a dream…
Nerdanel: A dream? You almost threw me out of the bed, you nev-
Fëanor: [abruptly] --It was nothing! What time is it?
Nerdanel: Laurelin and Telperion blended about two hours ago.
Fëanor: Well, it is near enough the hour for rising and I must get to work. I need to pick up some materials; I will be taking Celegorm and Curufin with me. [Fëanor gets up and begins getting dressed]
Nerdanel: Can it not wait just a little longer? All you do lately is work, what is so urgent?
Fëanor: [irritably] Nothing that concerns you!
Nerdanel: [taken aback at Fëanor’s furtiveness] …Why have you been acting like this lately, whenever I mention your work, you used to be so full of joy. Now it seems like you are hiding something.
Fëanor: [angrily] I said it is nothing. [Begins to leave room, but stops at the door. More quietly] I am sorry… you are right, perhaps I have been working too much. When I get home, maybe you would enjoy a walk in the gardens of Lórien with me?
Nerdanel: [a little non-committal] That might be nice. [Fëanor leaves the room, wakes the boys, and leaves the house with them.]
Curufin: What are we doing today Ada?
Fëanor: We are picking up some prime steel, from Aulë; tomorrow, I will show you how to make a knife. [cut.]

* * *

Cut back to Nerdanel, later in the day,
She is preparing something for Fëanor when he gets home. She brings it into his workshop, and notices something she has not seen there before, a sword on the forge. She looks around the workshop more closely and she sees many weapons, shields and pieces of Armour half-hidden. She drops what she has prepared for Fëanor, in shock of what she sees.

Nerdanel: So this is his secret work... [fade.]

* * *

Camera open on Finwë’s home, a day or so later.
Finwë, Fingolfin, Finarfin are speaking. Sons of Fëanor enter, led by Twins. Finwë stops the conversation to hug his young grandsons. Fëanor and Nerdanel enter
.

Finwë: Welcome. It has been a long time since you visited. [ruffles Amrod’s hair] The young ones have grown so much.
Fëanor: It has not been so long, Ada. They are simply growing fast now.
[Young voices outside. Fëanor’s sons leave except for Maedhros, Maglor, and Celegorm.]
Fingolfin: It is good to see you again, brother. We were just discussing some rumours heard recently.
Finarfin: Surely you have heard the tales of the Others who will fill Middle Earth in our place?
Fëanor: [guarded] I have.
Finarfin: People are growing restless.
Finwë: Your brother thinks we ought to make clear to our people that we have no intention to return to the dark lands. Here, beneath the light of the Trees, we have everything we could possibly want.
Fëanor: You make us sound like house pets.
Fingolfin: It would put an end to the unrest if Ada would make himself clear –
Fëanor: Who decided that we were content to be kept in comfort and safety? Who decided that we had no interest in returning to Middle Earth?
Finwë: Well, Fingolfin thought –
Fëanor: So you take his part now? Has he become eldest son of the house?
Fingolfin: You were much away, brother. Someone had to step in.
Fëanor: Well, you need trouble yourself no longer. [Camera focus on face, grim look] I have returned to my due place. [Camera pan to Finwë, who looks worried and confused. Fingolfin, who appears resolved to fight. Finarfin, who steps back.. Fade]

* * *

Cut to Fëanor’s house, that evening.
A meal is laid on a long table. Sons are busy eating. Fëanor and Nerdanel sit at opposite ends.

Fëanor: [rips a chunk of bread, clearly upset] Who does he think he is?
Nerdanel: [calmly] Your brother.
Fëanor: Half-brother! He means to take my place.
Nerdanel: I doubt it.
Fëanor: What know you of this?
Nerdanel: I know what I hear. The gossip is not confined to men, you realize.
Fëanor: [slight sarcasm] And what do the women say?
Nerdanel: That you have a foul temper.
Fëanor: [grumble]
Nerdanel: [evenly] Some say in truth that Fingolfin is seeking to replace you. Others warn that it is you who poses the danger.
Fëanor: [stands] I threaten none who have not first offered to rob me. [Sons put down food, watch argument building]
Nerdanel: You know who started this.
Fëanor: I know where you would lay the blame.
Nerdanel: Tell me not that he has never spoken such to you.
Fëanor: I paid no attention. [Camera pans Sons, who glance at each other]
Nerdanel: Then what were those things in the workshop? You left them on the bench.
Fëanor: None of your affair. Concentrate on your fine silver and leave steel to the men.
Nerdanel: I like that! [stands] This is my home too. I will not have secrets kept!
Fëanor: Woman! I tell you this is not your business. What was said that day can be ignored.
Nerdanel: Eru give me patience! Melkor is a Vala and cannot be ignored.
Fëanor: Will you leave it alone?
Nerdanel: Not until you listen!
Fëanor: [hurls cup at her. Misses. Wine splatters over the table.]
Nerdanel: [throws a napkin at him] You can clean that up yourself! [storms off]
[Camera pans Sons. They rise, uncertain, and slip away. Maedhros is last and hesitates.]

Maedhros: Ada?
Fëanor: [waves him off] Just go.
[Maedhros leaves. Camera pans table to Fëanor, who stands, hands clenched. Camera drop to wine dripping slowly off edge of table.]

* * *

Cut to evening in the garden.
Nerdanel stands looking up at stars. Fëanor enters, uncertain, and stands behind her.

Fëanor: Before you say it, I am a dolt!
Nerdanel: Father said I should never disagree with you.
Fëanor: I am sorry. So sorry. [gently turns her to face him. Camera focus on Nerdanel. Tears shine on her cheeks]
Fëanor: [wipes a tear away] I would sooner lose my Silmarils than hurt you.
Nerdanel: Will you tell me about those huge knives?
Fëanor: [shakes his head] Is it not sensible to prepare for what might come?
Nerdanel: Is it sensible to lie to me?
Fëanor: [sighs] I heard a rumour of trouble and thought I would be ready when it came.
Nerdanel: You are too ready for trouble, and too quick to see it.
Fëanor: [hugs her close] Perhaps you are right. Still something in his voice warned me of trouble. [resolved] I will melt them down and make better hinges for our doors!
Nerdanel: [soft laugh] Not so much, my Love. You may be right in this, for your eyes are keen.
Fëanor: Keen enough to see that you are the most precious thing I have near me. I would see you happy again.
Nerdanel: Then make no more of those . . . What did you call them?
Fëanor: Swords.
Nerdanel: Make no more swords. You have enough now.
Fëanor: I swear by the light of the Trees . . . [Fade]

* * * * * * *

_________________
There is magic in long-distance friendships. They let you relate to other human beings in a way that goes beyond being physically together and is often more profound.
~Diana Cortes


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PostPosted: Mon Apr 25, 2011 7:39 pm 
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We cut to scene in Great Square of Tirion
Fëanor is addressing a group of Noldor. Melkor is watching from a distance, lounging in the shade of Galathilion, the White Tree.

Fëanor: Brothers! For too long we have sat back, listening to rumours and riddles spread by the jail-crow, Melkor. What if there is some truth in his oily words? I, myself have questioned the Lord Aulë, who is closest in friendship and benevolence to us, and even he could not look me in the face and give me a straight answer!
Crowd: [mutters in dissatisfaction]

Fingon: Surely you do not doubt the word of the Valar, our benefactors and guardians? What possible truth can there be in any of this? [some of the crowd murmurs in agreement]
Fëanor: Our guardians? What do we need protecting from? Only ourselves, it seems! We were brought here to be controlled, to be confined, ‘ere our power grows too great to be governed by the High and Mighty Valar. That is what Melkor would have us believe.
Aegnor: And do you believe it? you are a prince among the Noldor. What do you have to fear from the Valar?

Fëanor: [with mounting passion] I fear nothing except the loss of my freedom and the loss of my inheritance. The Valar treat us like their house pets and play with us as babes and little children. How do we know if the Valar are indeed defrauding us, holding us in thraldom for others to come and take the Lordship of the lands we left? Just think what we could achieve if we returned to Middle-earth and set up our own kingdoms. If some other race of people is to come after us, then why should we not befriend them and teach them as the Valar have “helped” us?
[more murmurs of assent. Cut to Fingolfin and Finarfin who have entered the Square, and are close enough to hear the speech, but are not part of the crowd.]

Finarfin: [low voice] Something must be done about our brother – by what right does he speak for our people?
Fingolfin: You speak truly. We must talk to Father. Persuade him to curb his pride. [cut back to crowd around Fëanor]
Angrod: Uncle, you may be right…and what of the others of our people that we left behind? What has become of them? Maybe they are ruling Middle-earth and enjoying even more glory than we are here. [mutters of consternation rise from the crowd]

Fëanor: You see, there is so much that is being kept from us. I, for one, would depart from Valinor back to Middle-earth, taking any of my people who would follow me. Who is with me? [crowd looks at one another, a few hands are raised reluctantly. Suddenly Caranthir comes running up to Fëanor]
Caranthir: Ada, The High-King has summoned our lords to council. Lord Manwë is coming to address the Noldor, and would have you there, wearing the Silmarils.
[the crowds starts to disperse in a hurry, still chatting about what they have heard, with Fingolfin and Finarfin leading off in the direction of the meeting hall.]

Fëanor: I do not feel like wearing the jewels today…I prefer that they stay at home with my wife… [Melkor rises and comes over to Fëanor]
Melkor: So, you have decided to listen to me after all…most wise.
Fëanor: [scowls] What do you want with me? I make my own wisdom and my own future.
Melkor: Ah, yes…Fëanáro…the Spirit of Fire.. I know how fiercely the flame can burn when fanned by the wind. You should be careful your flame does not burn you out…
Fëanor: Enough of your riddles! Leave me!

Melkor: In good time…I could not help overhearing that Manwë has requested your presence with the Silmarils…you know how displeased the Valar are that you keep the Silmarils tucked away here in Tirion, instead of their safe-keeping? [Fëanor folds his arms in defiance] Ah, but I am keeping you talking when you should be at your father’s side. Hurry now or you will find your half-brothers have got their words in first. [Fëanor makes to answer with a rude retort, then a bell tolls for the meeting, and he turns and runs off. Melkor looks after him with a satisfied smile.]

* * *

Cut to view of Meeting Hall in Tirion.
We see many Noldor arriving, they are gathered around Finwë and his two younger sons . Fëanor has not yet arrived.


Elf 1: But Lord, even you cannot dispute his claims.
Finwë: I do not dispute them. I simply see them as half truths… and that my friends, makes the whole lies.
Elf 2: But even if he is telling half of the truth, don’t we have a right to know the whole truth. We were led here of our free will, and should not be treated like prisoners.
Finwë: It is for that reason that the Valar may withhold anything from us! Were any of you forced to come here? Were you not given the choice of staying at Cuivenien? What makes you believe that we have become so powerful that we may overthrow those who brought us from the darkness?

[Fëanor approaches from the back of the crowd. He is anxious pushing to the front to get his say in, he cannot hear what is being said in the front. He is fully armed]

Elf 3: We do not wish to overthrow them, but we no longer wish to be their pets; if we want to leave we should be allowed!
Fingolfin: We are allowed to. Ask any of the Valar yourselves! And as for our brother Fëanor, [turns to Finwë] will you not curb his pride – by what right does he speak for us as if he were King? It was you, Father who spoke before our people long ago and convinced us to answer the summons of the Valar and take the long road to these Blessed shores. If you do not regret that decision, you have two sons at least to step forward and help honour your pledge.

[Fëanor reaches the front of the crowd but only hears from “If you do not regret...]
Fëanor: So it is even as I guessed...My half-brother would be before me with my father in this as in all matters. [draws his sword] I am sure you are quite ready to take my place as soon as I have gone, you serpent! Get back to your proper place! [Fingolfin bows to Finwë and makes to leave the chamber, but Fëanor follows after him to the door, setting the point of the sword against his chest]

Fëanor: [fiercely] See, half-brother, this is sharper than your tongue. Try once more to usurp my place and the love of my father, and the Noldor will be rid of one who wishes to be their King under thraldom!

Finwë: [horrified] Never has a blade been drawn on another in Aman, to this day… Put that away, and learn to pay attention to what we say next time. I see great evil coming from this act. [Suddenly we hear Bells ringing]

Fëanor: [puts sword away] I do not regret what has happened here this day… I am needed. [Turns and walks out the Hall. All elves stay for a moment, astounded by what has just happened, then slowly the file into the street, heading towards the Máhanaxar, until only Fingolfin, Finwë and Finarfin are left. Finwë looks deep in thought and sadness]

Finarfin: Come, Father, we must let the Valar decide what will happen today.
Finwë: It is not today but tomorrow I fear. [Both walk away.]

* * *

Cut to scene of Nerdanel outside her house.
There is no dialogue, only sad music... we see one of her neighbours comes running up to her with the news of what has happened. Nerdanel lifts her hands to her face in horror and the neighbour comforts her. Fade.


* * *

Cut to opening shot of clouds in the sky…
An eagle flies through the clouds…. it sees a shining white and gold city below and swoops down. It lands on a high building just inside the city gates. The building has a large glass atrium atop it and within the atrium are many birds of many species. The eagle looks puzzled as it wants to cavort with his kind – and they with him – but the glass divides them and frustrates them. One bird flies up to the glass atrium but slows and then bounces off. Then a series of bells rings out from the outside of the walls. The eagle turns to see where the sound came from and we see a large crowd of people gathered both inside and outside the Máhanaxar – The Ring of Doom. The eagle lifts off from the glass top and begins to sly towards the Máhanaxar and the camera becomes the eagle and we see the crowd becoming larger as we near.

Camera enters the Máhanaxar and the Valar are sat on their individual thrones in a half circle, each a bit different to suit the owner, but all flow together in a pleasing symmetry. Opposite them is a slightly raised platform on which stands Fëanor. He stands tall and proud and is finely arrayed. Behind him are various members of his family. On a smaller dais, closer to the thrones of the Valar is a chair on a three step elevation. On it sits an Elf.


Manwë: You have heard these words of rebellion directly from the lips of our brother Melkor?
Elf: Yes my lord. Many times on many occasions. Lord Melkor would talk of you and our people. At first, it sounded like he was praising you and the wisdom of you bringing us to Aman… but every time he left us we began to argue amongst ourselves because of evil words that he cleverly would sow.
Varda: And are there others hear who also witnessed such talk from Melkor? [Many hands go up in the crowd and a murmur of assent goes up. We see Tulkas becoming agitated on his throne. He stands.]
Tulkas: Enough. We have our proof. Our suspicions are answered and I will seek him out and bring him back here to answer for his sedition. [Tulkas hurries and leaves.]

Manwë dismisses the Elf thanking him for his testimony and help. He then motions to the larger platform and motions to Fëanor to come and take the seat before them. Fëanor turns to his family and hesitates as if he will not answer the summons… he turns a step back to the crowd and looks over them for several seconds … he then smiles, turns and confidently strides and climbs the three steps to the to the chair.

Manwë: Curufinwë Fëanáro…. Please sit.
Fëanor: I would prefer to remain standing if it pleases your Lords. [Manwë inclines his head slightly].
Manwë: Did you also hear this talk of rebellion from Melkor as he went among you and your people?
Fëanor: Your brother says many things, most of which are as poison. He is like a snake who would slither under your bed and then strike when your guard is down.
Manwë: And you repeated and expanded on the words of Melkor did you not, Fëanor?
Fëanor: I need no harbinger of evil to tell me what to think or believe.
Manwë: And what is it you believe?
Fëanor: Our people… my people … the people of King Finwë are being held here in Aman in thraldom. We were brought here from our own lands to be the pets and children of the Valar as their playthings. Our old lands are being made ready for another race, newcomers who will take it and render it unfit for elvenkind.

Mandos: Thou speaks of thraldom. There are no chains of bondage upon you or the people of Finwë. You came of your own free will and you stay of your own will. And if you so desire, you can leave.
Fëanor: Proud words which ring hollow as I was summoned… ordered …. Brought here to stand before you accused of I do not know what.
Manwë: You committed an unlawful deed breaking our peace. You drew a sword, a weapon of death, upon your own brother Fingolfin in anger. And you must answer for that deed.
Fëanor: Fingolfin is my half-brother. [Fëanor emphasizes the word half]. He was not harmed by myself or anyone else. You are meddling in affairs of my family that are of no concern to you.
Varda: The breaking of the long years of peace is a deep concern for the Valar. This is a land of peace and we will not see it broken or threatened.

Fëanor: So the mighty Valar will tell me how to treat my half-brother? Will you also tell every Elf here how to live their own lives? Will you tell them what to do with the long hours of their day? Will you tell them how to bed their spouses and what food they may and may not eat? Where does the interference of the Valar in our lives stop? When will our thraldom come to an end?
[As Fëanor says these words, the crowd of Elves begins to murmur and talk among themselves, some agreeing with Fëanor and others seeing the Valar in a new light. Manwë and his fellow Valar sense what Fëanor is attempting to do.]

Mandos: If thraldom it be, thou cannot escape it. .Manwë is King of Arda and not of Aman only. And this deed was unlawful, whether in Aman or outside of Aman and that is what you shall answer for.
[These words have a sobering effect both on Fëanor and the crowd which is now silent. Fëanor slightly lowers his head realizing he has failed to turn the issue but after a few seconds raises it and tries to put on an air of nonchalance.]

Mandos: Therefore this doom is now made. For twelve years thou shall leave Tirion where this threat was uttered. In that time, take counsel with thyself and remember who you are. After that time has ended, this matter shall be considered as redressed and set in peace if the others who were harmed shall release thee. [On the larger platform, Fingolfin steps forward and cries out to Mandos]

Fingolfin: I release my brother now of any harm. I need no twelve years for him to repent of something which did me no harm.

There is a moment of silence…Camera cuts quickly to focus on close-up of Nerdanel, her bowed head rises and her face lights up as hope flares for a few seconds. Cut back to Fëanor. Fëanor turns his head and looks at Fingolfin, unspoken words of gratitude in his eyes but shakes his head…then turns back to the Valar with a look of defiance on his face. He turns, walks slowly down the three steps and out through the crowd of Elves who part to allow his through. Cut back to Nerdanel, her shoulders slump, her face creases in anguish and tears flow silently.

Some Elves remove their hats as he walks by, some bow to him, some curtsey, and others simply stand in awe. His wife and sons leave the platform and follow him, Maedhros with his arm around Nerdanel, trying to console her. Many elves follow them in turn. Varda turns to look at Manwë with a look of infinite sadness upon her face.


Varda: It is maybe, the nature of the Children of Eru that as they grow they should become wilful, and should desire to escape from tutelage, remembering it with little gratitude…
[As Manwë reaches out a hand to her, the eagle lands softly upon his shoulder. Fade.]


END OF EPISODE
*************************************************************

Characters for the Tale of Fëanor and the creation of the Silmarils:

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There is magic in long-distance friendships. They let you relate to other human beings in a way that goes beyond being physically together and is often more profound.
~Diana Cortes


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