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PostPosted: Wed Apr 27, 2011 7:04 am 
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Season 1 Episode 5

Scene opens on Halls of Ilmarin on the slopes of Mount Taniquetil.
The Halls and gardens are bathed in the golden light from the Two Trees, visible away to the West. Camera pans across the grounds, where we see Elves arriving and entering the Halls. Camera travels with them into the Halls, which are decked out in colourful swags of flowers and fruit. The scent of pine boughs fills the air. Several large tables are laden with food for the feast – cooked meats, fresh bread, cheeses, fruits, salads, etc, We see servants ladling from huge bowls of punch and pouring fresh juices and wine for the guests. The Valar are mingling with the guests, dressed in their finest robes, to all appearances beautiful and majestic Elves.

Manwë and Varda personally greet the Elves as they arrive. After a while Manwë calls for silence:


Manwë: Beloved Children of Eru….Friends! it gives us great joy to welcome you all here for this glorious feast of thanksgiving. We look forward to sharing your company and praising Eru in music and song. First let us thank Eru for the bounty of this land, and ask for His Blessing on us and our endeavours in His Name [holds arms outstretched in supplication, with his face lifted upwards, his eyes closed. Recites ‘Grace/Blessing’ in Elvish, then opens his eyes and gestures towards food] Friends – let us enjoy the fruits of the Harvest!

Elves, Maiar and Valar start partaking of the feast. Guests drift towards smaller tables set up around the room, some spill outside onto terraces and on to the lawns. Camera travels around, picking out little tableaux and snatches of conversation.

* * *

Cut to scene of a horseman approaching city of Valmar.
As he comes closer we see that it is Fëanor. He rides pass the gates of the city, heading northwards, with the Ring of Doom and the Two Trees on his left. As he passes close to the Trees he pauses, drinking in the beauty of their light. Then his eyes drift to the Ring, the site of his public humiliation years before. He grimaces and kicks his heels into his horse’s flanks, urging him into a gallop again. Cut to horse and rider reaching the slopes of Mount Taniquetil. As he ascends higher up the mountain path, Fëanor looks back southwards across the route he has ridden. For a second his eyes seem to pick out a dark mass moving along the skirts of the Pelóri, then he blinks, and it is gone. He rubs his eyes and strains to see again, but there is no movement. With a shake of his head he continues upwards.


* * *

Cut back to scene inside Halls.
The feasting has slowed, and musicians are in full flow. Manwë and Varda are seated, enjoying a paen to Eru sung by one of the Vanyar, accompanied by a harpist. Fëanor arrives quietly, and lingers in the doorway, listening to the music. He is noticed only by the singer who is facing him. When the song is ended, the singer gives a bow first to Manwë and Varda, then gives a mock bow to Fëanor. All eyes turn in his direction. Fëanor is dressed in his everyday clothes, with no ornamentation or sign of his rank. He ignores the startled, querying expressions and whispers as he walks forward across the Hall towards Manwë and Varda.

Cut to close up of Nerdanel who is sitting at a table with her father, and Indis. Nerdanel gives a small gasp and her father pats her arm to reassure her. Fingolfin and Finarfin glance at each other with querying looks. Cut back to Manwë who stands and holds out his arms in greeting.


Manwë: [to Fëanor] Curufinwë Fëanáro…I am greatly pleased to see you have not denied my bidding, although it seems you do not find any pleasure in this occasion from the way you are attired… Nonetheless, in my love thou remainest and wilt be honoured in my hall… [to general assembly] We have enjoyed a time of peace, since the shadow of the Enemy has departed from this land, and the Light of the Trees is undimmed. Whilst doubts persist, and some cry of evil omens that the Enemy was not hunted down, if our fears should be realized, then we must stand united in thought and purpose. For that is the way the Enemy works – destroying us from within, setting brother against brother. It is for this reason that I seek to heal the evil that has arisen among the Noldor. [turns to table where Finwë’s sons are seated with Indis and her daughters] Fingolfin, stand forth beside your brother! I would have you two reconciled.

[Fingolfin stands, glances at his brother Finarfin for reassurance. Finarfin nods in encouragement. Fingolfin approaches Manwë and stands next to Fëanor.]
Fëanor: [hesistantly, as though he is struggling to swallow his pride] Brother…my actions were reprehensible…I allowed the lies of the Enemy to cloud my judgment in matters that I should have trusted to my heart. I ask your forgiveness…
Fingolfin: [holds out his hand] It is already forgotten, Brother…As I promised, I do now release you and will hold no grudge against you. [Fëanor takes his hand in silence] Half-brother in blood, full brother in heart will I be. You shall lead and I will follow. May no new grief divide us! [bows head]
Fëanor: I hear you….So be it! [The brothers embrace. Finarfin steps forward and bows to Fëanor in subservience also.]

The whole assembly of guests stand with cheers and applause. Elves surround the threesome, congratulating with hugs and back-slapping. Indis nods ad smiles in encouragement at Nerdanel, who is hanging back, reluctant to make the first move towards Fëanor. Eventually Fëanor catches sight of Nerdanel…their eyes meet and Nerdanel give him a small smile. Fëanor moves shyly towards Nerdanel. After a slight hesitation they fall into each other’s arms. Varda nudges Manwë and he gestures for the music to continue. Elves are soon dancing and singing in celebration. Fëanor bows to Nerdanel in mock formality to invite her to dance with him, and laughing, she accepts. Camera pans over the scenes of jubilations and out over the slopes of the mountain, across the deserted city of Valmar, which is bathed in the silver and golden radiance of the Two Trees at the hour of their lights mingling. Cut.


* * *

Scene opens on street in Valmar:
We see a close up of a elaborately scripted hand written announcement on cloth inviting all to the feasting and celebration at Taniquetil. It is hanging attached to a wall. A stiff wind blows it off and we see it dance and prance through the empty streets of the city of Valmar until it blows out of the Golden Gates and the camera is outside them. We see the Two Trees, taller than the largest Redwoods - Telperion and Laurelin at the time of day when both are shining together casting both a silver and gold aura over the landscape and the gleaming exterior of the city. A dark cloud moving near ground level approaches the Mound on which the two Trees stand. The winds seem to whip up stronger and the two Trees sway and some leaves fall from each .

The winds seem to break up the dark cloud, revealing Melkor and Ungoliant, as they ascend Ezellohar. Melkor bears a long jet black spear of shiny metal. Its end bears four shorter barbs - two thrusting forward and two going backwards. Ungoliant rushes towards Telperion but Melkor raises a gloved hand and stops her in her tracks.


*

Cut briefly to the feasting on Taniquetil
Camera focus in on Yavanna sitting at a table with others with a goblet in her hand and looking very happy. Festive music is playing.


*

Cut back to Melkor
He raises his spear high over his head. Just at that moment the wind dies suddenly. There is a deathly hush in the air, like everything is holding its breath. Melkor notices the change and hesitates for a moment looking around him half expecting the Valar on his tail. Then with all his might thrusts it with great effort into the trunk of Telperion crying out as he does so in a bestial and horrid scream of both exertion and release.


*

Cut back to Yavanna who reacts as though slapped hard across the face... she shakes her head and her eyes open wide and she is thrust back deeper upon her chair, her goblet tips and falls spilling a dark wine like blood across a white linen covered table...

*

Cut back to Trees
Melkor withdraws his spear the barbs rip at the core and bark of Telperion ripping out large sections of it leaving a wound that is several feet around. Ungoliant is fidgeting and moving like a cat on a hot tin roof in anticipation ... Melkor motions her forward and she spring, her agility that of a much smaller animal, and spreads her many legs, fixing herself to Telperion. Her beak goes to the gaping wound and she begins to suckle and drink from the Tree making obscene noises and moving her body and legs on the tree in a crude imitation of mating.

The only sounds are natural ones – Ungoliant’s obscene sounds, the cracking of the Tree wood, Melkor breathing harshly, almost panting from his exertion, and the pleasure he is getting from the desecration - no music at all.

As Ungoliant does this Telperion begins to die. Leaves fall - first just a few, then in torrents like a rainstorm. The silver light wanes and dies altogether leaving the scene lit only in gold. Each flower and leaf loses its colour as it falls and by the time it hits the ground is devoid of any colour at all. The branches are naked and some begin to wither and crack loudly, and the smaller ends break off and begin to fall. Some hit Melkor and Ungoliant but they are oblivious to it. The great Tree splits in several parts and begins to teeter and waver losing large upper branches which fall around them. Melkor uses his arms to ward off a particularly large section which he brushes aside like a much smaller twig.

When the glory of Telperion is destroyed, Ungoliant detaches herself from the remains of the trunk.


*

Cut back to Yavanna:
She has nearly lost consciousness and appears covered in sweat and in great fear and pain.. We see the Hall through her eyes - the music now appears discordant and faces are blurred and the room dizzying... many are focused on Yavanna but most in the area still have no idea what is happening and the feasting and merriment continues .Focus on Fëanor and Nerdanel who decide to take a stroll out on the terraces.


*

Cut back to Melkor
He spears the second Tree, and motions to Ungoliant to feast upon Laurelin and the scene is repeated. But this time instead of seeing all the detail of the assault, we intercut it with Yavanna losing even more strength and suffering more pain...


*

Cut to scene on terrace outside Halls of Ilmarin.
Nerdanel and Fëanor are wrapped in each other’s arms, each conscious only of the other;

Fëanor: [whispers] I have missed you.
Nerdanel: I have missed you too.
Fëanor: How could I have been so foolish and pig-headed?
Nerdanel: You are not foolish. Even the Valar were deceived by Melkor’s lies.
Fëanor: How could I have placed more importance upon mere jewels than on the best wife a man could have? [lifts her chin with one finger. Focus on Fëanor, who is smiling bitterly.] Do you know, I shut those things in a wall and have not looked at them since?
Nerdanel: [places finger upon his lips] Hush, beloved! I behaved just as foolishly! You are my husband, and even if I could not make you see sense I should still have supported you, not driven you away with harsh words that I regretted as soon as they left my mouth.
Fëanor: They are forgotten already…dear, sweet Nerdanel…forgive me! [They kiss deeply, and then Nerdanel rests her head on Fëanor’s chest as they stand looking out over the plains below. Fëanor buries his face in her hair, drinking in her scent.] Of course, those jewels are not so far away now. I would love to see them in your hair.
Nerdanel: Really?
Fëanor: Absolutely. I want to see you wearing the Silmarils . . . [whispers] and nothing else.
Nerdanel: [giggles softly,] The stars are visible early this evening, surely it is only just the hour of the Lights’ Mingling? [Fëanor’s head snaps up suddenly as he realizes something is wrong.]
Fëanor: [confused] What in Eru’s name – No! [turns toward Ezellohar. Focus on Fëanor, horrified. shouts] The Trees! The Light is dying! [other Elves outside stop and stare out into the dusk as well.]

*

Cut back to Laurelin
The last leaf falls and the Tree dies. Yavanna collapses completely in a dead faint, breathing shallowly. By now, the entire assembly is aware that something is wrong – Fëanor and other Elves have come running in from outside shouting that the light from the Trees is fading. The musicians have stopped playing and a deathly silence takes over. Aulë glances round, looking for Yavanna, and cries out as he sees her slumped across her chair. He and Estë rush over to her.


*

Cut to a distance shot of the mound of Ezellohar, the Two Trees now barely a quarter of their height, stripped of all foliage, branches ruined some fallen and piled around the base of each tree, a thick pile of both leaves and flowers perhaps twenty or more feet deep in places.....and like swimmers rising from the water first Melkor then Ungoliant raise their heads above the remains and the music comes in striking a very loud and ominous chord of evil triumph. They shake off the leaves and flowers and Melkor is shocked to see that Ungoliant is now twice her previous girth and appears to be giving off smoke or fumes which create their own areas of fog that appears unhealthy and sulphurous... he points to the Wells and Ungoliant shambles forth, barely able to waddle in her bloated form and begins to drink deeply... Melkor steps several paces back and turns his own helm away in disgust at both the sight and the sounds.

Once she has drained the Wells completely, Melkor beckons with an outstretched arm to Ungoliant ordering her to come with him and flee. As he does the wind suddenly flares up again, and the cloth banner announcement of the feasting that we saw at the scenes start flies and hits him in his arm. He catches the banner, scans it in contempt and throws it away from him. It snags on a wrecked branch lying on the ground and flaps forlornly. Cue very mournful and dramatic music coming into that Tree scene signalling the triumph of Melkor and the death of the Trees.

They depart in pitch dark which appears grey, purple and black on the screen - the city of Valmar no longer shines and appears nearly black as well. The camera withdraws back and we see the entire landscape looking drained of colour as if it had just died.


* * *

_________________
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 Sun May 01, 2011 6:19 am, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Wed Apr 27, 2011 7:19 am 
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PART 2...

Cut back to Halls of Ilmarin – everyone is milling about in grief and terror and confusion. Even the Valar are rattled, having trouble holding their forms – some of them start to become translucent, the edges blurring, others like Aulë subtly emit sparks or wisps of vapour. Varda and Manwë have gone up to the top of the watch tower in an attempt to see what is happening. They look out, and see Valmar foundered in a deep sea of night; the Mountain alone rising above the vast shadow of Darkness.

Varda: My Lord, even I cannot pierce this Darkness. My Light has failed, but this Darkness is more than a loss of light. It seemingly has the power to pierce the eye, to enter heart and mind and strangle the very will from inside. [there is utter silence in Valinor, except in the far distance the wind whistling through the pass of the mountains carries the wailing of the Teleri like the mewing of gulls.]

Manwë: [strains to see in the distance] My eyes alone can see in this gloom a cloud of unnatural Darkness beyond which I cannot penetrate. It seems to be travelling northwards at great speed.
Varda: Can you not perceive the source of this evil Unlight?
Manwë: [Grimaces] My heart tells me it is Melkor, but he has come and gone too swiftly…
Varda: [clasps his hands] It may not be too late…we must act quickly! [cut.]
* * *

Cut to scene of the pursuit setting out:
The host of Oromë thundering across the plains and through the forests, sparks flying up from the hooves of the horses. Oromë sounds his great hunting horn, with Tulkas running at his side. As the hunters come up with the Cloud of Ungoliant the riders are blinded and dismayed, and they become scattered. Oromë blows his horn again, but the note falters, and they rein in. Tulkas stands powerless and beats at the air in vain. As the Darkness passes there is no sign of their quarry. Fade.


* * * * * * *

Fade back to scene at Formenos:
Camera pans over busy compound, Elves working at normal tasks. Sons are gathered with Finwë in a small sparring enclosure. Celegorm and Caranthir are taking a lesson from Finwë, with blunted swords Amrod and Amras stand nearby in a small pen with the young mare, gently touching her and whispering to her.


Finwë: [parries Caranthir and pins him] You leave yourself open when you attack. Do not focus so much on killing your opponent that you kill yourself in the process.
Caranthir: [determined look. Resets. Shadows lengthen, sky grows dark.]
Finwë: Very good. Now this time – [Cut to the mare, suddenly restless. Mare whickers and pulls away from Twins, nervous.]
Amras: [glances up] What is happening to the light?
Finwë: [looks up, realizes something is wrong.] I know not. Stay here.
[Camera shift to open gates. Darkness rises like a cloud.]
Maedhros: Something bad is happening!
Maglor: Illirin! [sprints for gate, still carrying the training sword]
Maedhros: Wait! [rushes after Maglor]
Finwë: [grabs Celegorm’s shoulder] Hold now. We must not lose our heads. [walks toward gate] I have seen this before . . . or something similar, a long time ago . . . [Sons glance toward gate, then toward stable. They run for the stable. Camera follows Sons. A moment later they ride out the gate. Camera follows. Cut.]

* * *

Cut to forest:
The atmosphere dark and windy as if a storm is brewing. Sons ride quickly, clutching swords. Focus on individuals as branches whip by, slapping Sons and drawing blood.

Camera focus shift above trees. Dark storm rumbles above forest, moving fast, left to right. Lightning flashes, striking ahead of the clouds.

Curufin: [shouting over noise of storm] What is happening?
Amrod: [points to storm] It is fading.
Caranthir: Nay! It moves by its own will.
Maedhros: [pause] It is heading for Formenos! [Camera focus on look of horror] Grandfather!
[Sons wheel horses, except for Maglor who hesitates and then continues in original direction. Cut.]

* * *

Cut to Formenos.
Finwë stands in open gates. Darkness gathers at the edge of the trees like a cloud. Camera shift to Ungoliant , barely visible through the murky dusk.

Finwë: [horrified] No! [gestures with training sword] Shut the gates!
[Elves scream and run in all directions. Ungoliant moves toward the gates, trailing darkness behind her. Finwë slams the gates in front of her and throws the bar. Gates shudder as something heavy hits them. ]

Alone in the yard, Finwë runs to the house. Camera follows inside as he discards the training sword and lifts a true sword from a rack. Light shines along the silver blade. Loud crashes sound from the gate as it is hit again.

Finwë walks outside and stands before the main hall. Gates crack. Another blow and the gates burst, the walls fall. Horses run, panicked. Flames shoot up from the forge as the roof falls in. Ungoliant and Morgoth enter the compound. Ungoliant scuttles after the horses.


Melkor: [steps forward as Ungoliant falls back]
Finwë: Dark Vala! Thief and liar! You shall not pass this door…
Melkor: [snearing] Old fool. Do you think you can stop me?
Finwë: Perhaps not. But I shall make such an end here as shall never be forgotten.
Melkor: [slowly draws a war hammer. Slowly raises it. The hammer glows red against the black clouds.] Who will remember your end? Only the rats in the walls! [The hammer falls, striking Finwë in the calf and knocking him to the ground.]
Finwë: [rises slowly. Cries out in pain as he puts weight on the injured leg.]
Melkor: [exaggerated bow] Withdraw, Noldor, and live.
Finwë: You have not passed me yet. [slashes at Melkor, who steps back easily.]

Melkor swings again at Finwë’s injured leg. Finwë manages to evade him, staggering, but keeps his sword raised. Melkor swings again, toying with Finwë, driving him toward the treasury. Before the door to the treasury, Finwë takes a stand. He raises his sword, two handed, and strikes for Melkor’s torso. Melkor catches the blade in one hand. Electric sparks flash along Melkor’s arm and down the sword. Finwë is frozen, eyes wide and staring.


Melkor: Courage is for fools! [Laughs menacingly…hammer falls]
Finwë: [Camera focus] Míriel . . . [Cut]

* * *

Cut to Forest.
Sons ride, Caranthir in the lead. Darkness thickens. Focus on individual Sons as they attempt to bat the clinging darkness away. Horses halt, screaming and panicking, rearing and slashing at everything with hooves.
Sons are thrown. Some roll out of the way of the panicked horses, others ball to protect themselves. We hear untranslated Elvish screams mixed with inarticulate cries of terror. Above the noise suddenly there is heard the sound of terrible laughter.


Caranthir: [camera focus on face, fighting through terror] Grandfather! I am coming! [scrambles to his feet and runs through forest. Cut.]

* * *

Cut to Treasury of Formenos.
Melkor rips the door off the safe. He lifts out the Silmarils in their chest. Focus on his grinning face, lit from below. Melkor tucks Silmarils into his belt, then fills a sack with gems and treasure. Cut.


* * *
Cut to shattered walls, later.
The darkness has cleared and the stars sparkle. Pan over wreckage and flames. Focus on Finwë’s body lying in the empty treasury, now roofless.

Pan to Caranthir, sweaty and bloody from the run through branches, reaching the ruins.

Caranthir: Grandfather? [sees body] No! [throws himself down beside Finwë. Shakes body.] Grandfather? Grandfather!

[Camera shift to edge of trees. Rest of Brothers follow Caranthir, staggering and gasping. They gather around Finwë. Some are crying.]
Celegorm: Ada must be told.
Maedhros: [picking up the ruined sword.] What could have done this?
Amras: We must bring his body back. Indis will want to say farewell.
Caranthir: And then we must avenge him! [focus on Caranthir’s face. His expression mimics Fëanor in madness. Camera pans sons carrying Finwë on their shoulders. Fade.]

* * *

Cut to city of Valmar:
Camera follows Maglor, riding fast, searching the crowd of frightened Elves. Camera shift to Illirin, standing with a group of Elves, two pairs and a young man. All are well dressed, and though upset none seem traumatized. Maglor slides off the exhausted horse and approaches uncertainly. The group looks up as he steps close.

Maglor: [relieved] Illirin! I returned as soon as I saw what was happening.
Illirin: Why?
Maglor: Because I worried for your safety. The light --
Illirin: The trees are gone, but there will be something else soon to take their place. I am unharmed.
Maglor: [steps closer] Thanks be to Eru. [reaches for her, intending to hug her] You are more level headed than most here. I would love you for that even if your beauty were not reason enough.
Illirin: [steps back] What is this you speak of?
Maglor: [confused] I told you I love you.
Illirin: That is sweet. But I am with someone else now.
Young Elf Lord: [puts arm around Illirin] Some things change.
Maglor: You wrote . . . You said you loved me, that you would wait for me . . . I wrote songs in your honour. . . I sent letters . . .
Illirin: I forgot what you looked like a week after you left. [looks up at Young Elf Lord] His father sits at the feet of Manwë. We will have the light of the stars forever. What are your songs beside that? [Illirin and group exit left. Camera shift to Maglor, stunned, standing in the street. Cut.]

* * * * * * *

MORE TO FOLLOW...

_________________
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: Wed Apr 27, 2011 8:33 am 
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CONTINED...

Scene opens on the Ring of Doom:
Crowds are gathered, the Valar are again seated on their thrones, this time the scene is in shadow, for it is night, with the stars of Varda glimmering overhead. Camera pans around various Valar – Tulkas shifting restlessly, with his clenched hands drumming on the arms of his throne; Nienna clasping her hands together in silent agitation, her face shrouded by the hood of her grey cloak; Oromë with his bow across his knees, idly testing the tension in the string; Mandos sits still and silent, his head bowed in sorrow; Aulë fidgets with his hammer, slapping the head in the palm of his hand; Camera pauses on Yavanna, one hand pulling at her hair, the other clutching at the fabric of her gown in obvious distress still; She rises, and walks over to the Green Mound, which is now bare and black. She lays her hands on the wretched remains of the Trees, dark and dead, and as she touches them the branches crack and fall lifeless at her feet. Voices in the crowd lift in lamentation and sorrow. Yavanna turns to face the Valar and the assembled Elves…


Yavanna: The Light of the Trees has passed away. It lives now only in the Silmarils of Fëanor. Fortunate indeed are we for his foresight! Even the mightiest of us may accomplish some works only once, even under Eru’s Blessing. To create the Light of the Trees as I did before is beyond my powers in this world. If I have but a little of that light I can recall life to the Trees before their roots decay.

Manwë: [looks at Fëanor who is standing impassively with Nerdanel and Maglor.] Do you hear the words of Yavanna, Fëanor, son of Finwë? Will you grant her request so that our hurts can be healed and the malice of Melkor can be thwarted? [Fëanor drops his eyes and stares at the floor in front of him. There is a long silence.]

Tulkas: [impatiently] Speak, Prince of the Noldor – say yea or nay! But surely you will not deny Yavanna – the light of the Silmarils did come from her work in the beginning!
Aulë: [rising] Do not be hasty! We are asking Fëanor a greater thing than perhaps many realize. Let him have peace to think about it for a while. [sits again]

Fëanor: [steps forward, and speaks bitterly] Not just the mightiest – even the lesser among us may accomplish a deed only once, and in doing so put his heart and soul into it. It may be that I can unlock my jewels, but I shall never be able to make their like again. If I must break them it would break my heart also, and I shall be slain – first of all the Eldar in Aman!

Mandos: [raises his head suddenly…] NOT the first….. [puzzled looks pass between the Valar and Elves alike. There is silence. Confused, Fëanor broods in the shadows]

Nerdanel: [pleadingly, in an undertone] Please, my Love, you are our only hope….if you could just let the Valar study the jewels maybe they might find a way to release the light…
Fëanor: [harshly interrupting] How do I know they will not destroy them in the attempt? Melkor warned me that the Silmarils were not safe if the Valar possess them. And is he not a Vala as they are, surely he understands their hearts? Yes, a thief will reveal thieves! [raises his voice and addresses the Valar] This thing I will not do of my own free will! If the Valar order me to give up the jewels to them then I shall know indeed that they are no better than Melkor.
Mandos: [gravely] As you have spoken, so shall it be!

Nienna rises, and goes to join Yavanna on the mound of Ezellohar. She casts back her grey hood, and begins to sing a lament of mourning for the bitterness of the world and the Marring of Arda. As she sings her tears course down her face and they wash away the defilements of Ungoliant and cleanse the remnants of the Trees.

Suddenly the sound of horses approaching is heard. Camera swings round to show two Elves hurrying into the Ring, pushing through the crowd, searching for someone. As they come closer we see it is Maedhros and Caranthir. Caranthir is visibly distraught. As he reaches his parents he clutches at his father, then sinks down on his knees, covering his face with his hands. Maedhros is grim-faced and pale. Maglor rushes forward in consternation. Nerdanel bends down and clasps Caranthir to her.


Nerdanel: [anxiously] Caranthir! My son, what distresses you so?
Fëanor: [addresses Maedhros] Where are the others – have you come alone? [Maedhros motions away behind him. and the camera swings around to see the other 4 brothers approaching the Ring of Doom on horseback. They rein in, and dismount, standing quietly together, waiting. ]

Manwë: [gently] Caranthir, the Darkness has spread fear and sorrow over us all, but the Enemy has passed for now. Apart from the Blessed Trees yonder, none here have been harmed, if that is what troubles your thoughts.
Caranthir: [pushes Nerdanel’s arms away and rises… Gulping deep breaths, he tries to calm himself.] Ada…
Maedhros: [interjects] My Lord! We bear new tidings of evil…… [murmurs of consternation]
Manwë: [urgently] Speak, Maedhros, son of Fëanor, that all may hear!

Maedhros: We saw the Light fade from our stronghold in Formenos, we set out to seek the cause of this. As we rode south a Darkness came towards us - a dark storm that moved by its own will. We realized that it was heading northwards with a purpose, towards the very homestead we had left unguarded but for Grandfather. We turned back and made chase. It was no ordinary darkness. It concealed a monstrous spider-like creature which bred a terror and a fear that robbed us of all wit and will when we came upon it. Our horses threw us to the ground and bolted while we lay blind and without strength.

Caranthir: When we recovered our senses we set off on foot. As we neared the stronghold we heard the sound of great blows, heard one piercing cry and saw a sudden flame of fire. From a distance we heard mocking laughter like the roar of the wind…
Manwë: [harshly] Melkor!

Caranthir: Ada, I ran ahead of the others…I found Grandfather alone on the threshold… [swallows, then continues falteringly,] …his head crushed as with a great mace of iron and his sword twisted and untempered as if by lightning-stroke! [the crowd gasps, and shouts of outrage break out. Fëanor blanches and clutches hand to his chest.. Caranthir begins sobbing again. ]

Camera swings round to the other brothers who move aside to show a bier, with the body of Finwë covered by an embroidered cloth. Indis exclaims and collapses sobbing into the arms of her sons and daughters. They lead her away towards the bier.


Maedhros: [hesitantly] That is not all, Ada…. Melkor then broke open the treasury, and took all the jewels that we held in that place.
Fëanor: ….all the jewels? [Maedhros nods, unable to look at him. Fëanor gasps as he realizes the implication] …the Silmarils? [Grabs Maedhros by the front of his jerkin and pulls his face close to his] Look at me!....Tell me he did not take the Silmarils as well! [Maedhros slowly raises his eyes to meet Fëanor’s]
Maedhros: [whispers] Ada...I am so sorry! [Fëanor releases Maedhros, and turns away, hiding his face. Maedhros’ shoulders droop and he stares at the ground. ]

On the Mound, Yavanna also begins weeping. Maedhros and Maglor try to console Caranthir who sobs that they shouldn’t have left Finwë, and that he is to blame, etc. Nerdanel tries to comfort Fëanor, but he pushes her away roughly. He steps up onto the dais before Manwë’s throne and turns to face the assembly. He lifts up his hand and screams aloud:
Fëanor: HEAR ME, MELKOR! I RENAME YOU MORGOTH! CURSE YOU, BLACK FOE OF THE WORLD!

Manwë: [stands] Beloved Child of Eru, we all share your grief and distress over this loss …
Fëanor: [interrupts angrily] Spare me your hypocrisy! I am minded to curse you also, Manwë Súlimo – You and all the Mighty Valar! If you had not summoned me in this hour to come to Taniquetil then I would have been by my Father’s side and his death might have been averted. My Father was dearer to me than the Light of Valinor or anything that I might have created with my hands. Now all that I held close in my heart has been lost! [Cries in anguish and runs from the Ring out into the night. Many other Elves are openly crying and wailing also. ]

* * * * * * *

Scene opens in a very high distance shot over mountains…
We see Morgoth and Ungoliant taking paths down a steep mountainside… Morgoth seems far ahead and Ungoliant scurries to catch up……. The camera slowly closes in until we see the two approaching a 200 foot straight drop …. Morgoth effortlessly slides over the side and works his way down almost as if he was a spider himself …. As Ungoliant begins to work her way down, her bulk shifts some softer rock and when her legs try to embrace it the section comes loose and she slides down very fast and goes head over heels to the ground crashing hard. Morgoth pauses and goes back to see if Ungoliant is alive. She is not moving. He takes his spear from his back and pokes at her front legs and they snap around the spear locking it tightly…


Ungoliant: [hissing] you are not so lucky as to find me dead.
Morgoth: Dead? You make light of yourself. I was hoping the fall had not hurt you.
Ungoliant: You chose these paths because you want to rid yourself of my burden. You are trying to avoid delivering to me all that you promised. “with both hands” you said.. and I hold you to your vow.
Morgoth: That time is not now. Come, if you are able…

[They continue over land that becomes barren plains. It is dimly lit and the vegetation becomes stunted and sickly looking. Fetid pools and swamps appear from time to time. The camera shows more distant shots similar to the Fellowship journeying from Rivendell in FOTR. We see Morgoth out in front and Ungoliant behind. Morgoth seems to be selecting the steepest ravines, the roughest rock outcroppings, the most fetid swamps and other landscape that slows and impedes Ungoliant. They approach a very flat stretch of ground which resembles tundra. Ahead they cannot see and all appears to be grey and white mists and smoke.]

Ungoliant: what is that?
Morgoth: Those are the great mists of Oiumërë …… and beyond The Helcaraxë…
Ungoliant: why are we going this way…. Is there no other path we can take?
Morgoth: You are free to take any path you desire. There are no chains upon you and I hold you to no service to me. This way is the only way for me. There will be no shame upon you if you decide it is not for you.
Ungoliant: [makes guttural noises] and as for the vow you made to me? When will that be paid?
Morgoth: we must go through the Mists and across the Grinding Ice…. Only when we get to Angband will we be truly safe from my brethren who pursue us this very moment.
Ungoliant: Forward I will go with you… but stay close. [fade]

*

Fade back into scene of them going through the Mists
These are various unhealthy colours. At one point Ungoliant slips into a pool of oily looking slime, sinks below the surface and emerges gasping and spewing water.

Morgoth: You are not being very careful. [Ungoliant simply responds with screeches and more guttural noises.]

We see them emerge from the Mists and the Helcaraxë stretches before them seemingly forever. While the start of it looks like a solid sheet of ice, in the distance they see mountains of ice that appear to be moving and shifting, some at great speed and of a height thousands of feet into the air. We can hear the grinding of the ice and the cracking and splitting of ice.

Morgoth: Come – we cross here.
Ungoliant: Fool! We will be crushed before we get even partway across!
Morgoth: Do as you wish. I cross here. You can stay and welcome those who pursue us when they find you here alone.

They begin to cross the ice fields. Scenes of terrible hurricane force winds forcing even Morgoth to bend and struggle against them. Scenes of them climbing ice mountains and nearly being sliced in pieces as large sections of ice fall around them or break away at their feet.

Ungoliant turns the colour of pale ash and even Morgoth appears cold. They approach a narrow ravine through two ice hills. Overhead is a natural arch of ice that forms a tunnel, zigging and zagging for thousands of feet….. the path rises and falls and is very treacherous. Morgoth begins to stride through it and Ungoliant follows after. We see Morgoth several hundred feet ahead and he takes his spear and jabs it several times into the ice canopy and both sides of the walls which are much narrower here than in other places. He moves on. As Ungoliant approaches she pauses and questions if she can squeeze through the narrow passage…. She hesitates and begins to move forward….. her bulk brushing against the sides and canopy begin to dislodge large sections of jagged ice which crashes around and upon her. She tries to retreat but only succeeds in dislodging even more ice. The screen goes white.


*

When it clears we see Ungoliant partially trapped under much jagged ice. One of her legs near the front of her body is trapped under the deepest section of ice. She is positioned in such a way so she can free other limbs but cannot reach the trapped leg. She tries to reach the ice with her beak but can only get as far as where her leg meets her torso missing the ice by a few feet. The deathly silence is broken by a harsh and mocking voice.

Morgoth: What have you gotten yourself into Clumsy One?
Ungoliant: Help me… free me from this ice ….
Morgoth: I made no promise of aid should you need it. You are holding me to my vow and I will honour it. No more and no less. Shall I feed you the jewels of Fëanor to sustain you in your prison of ice? I will gladly do it.
Ungoliant: [her voice rising to a shrill and deafening scream] Free me! [Ice begins to come down in places and she instantly quiets.]
Morgoth: Fool! You will bury both of us completely…. I know I can rise from the tomb but it is not so easy for you. I will wait for you in Angband… [laughs in mocking derision and moves on.]

The camera comes in close on Ungoliant and we see her stretch her head to try to pick at the ice pinning her leg. But despite a mighty effort she only succeeds in getting herself even more pinned in. Cut.]


* * * * * * *

ONE MORE PART TO COME!

_________________
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: Wed Apr 27, 2011 8:33 am 
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CONTINED...

Scene opens on the Ring of Doom:
Crowds are gathered, the Valar are again seated on their thrones, this time the scene is in shadow, for it is night, with the stars of Varda glimmering overhead. Camera pans around various Valar – Tulkas shifting restlessly, with his clenched hands drumming on the arms of his throne; Nienna clasping her hands together in silent agitation, her face shrouded by the hood of her grey cloak; Oromë with his bow across his knees, idly testing the tension in the string; Mandos sits still and silent, his head bowed in sorrow; Aulë fidgets with his hammer, slapping the head in the palm of his hand; Camera pauses on Yavanna, one hand pulling at her hair, the other clutching at the fabric of her gown in obvious distress still; She rises, and walks over to the Green Mound, which is now bare and black. She lays her hands on the wretched remains of the Trees, dark and dead, and as she touches them the branches crack and fall lifeless at her feet. Voices in the crowd lift in lamentation and sorrow. Yavanna turns to face the Valar and the assembled Elves…


Yavanna: The Light of the Trees has passed away. It lives now only in the Silmarils of Fëanor. Fortunate indeed are we for his foresight! Even the mightiest of us may accomplish some works only once, even under Eru’s Blessing. To create the Light of the Trees as I did before is beyond my powers in this world. If I have but a little of that light I can recall life to the Trees before their roots decay.

Manwë: [looks at Fëanor who is standing impassively with Nerdanel and Maglor.] Do you hear the words of Yavanna, Fëanor, son of Finwë? Will you grant her request so that our hurts can be healed and the malice of Melkor can be thwarted? [Fëanor drops his eyes and stares at the floor in front of him. There is a long silence.]

Tulkas: [impatiently] Speak, Prince of the Noldor – say yea or nay! But surely you will not deny Yavanna – the light of the Silmarils did come from her work in the beginning!
Aulë: [rising] Do not be hasty! We are asking Fëanor a greater thing than perhaps many realize. Let him have peace to think about it for a while. [sits again]

Fëanor: [steps forward, and speaks bitterly] Not just the mightiest – even the lesser among us may accomplish a deed only once, and in doing so put his heart and soul into it. It may be that I can unlock my jewels, but I shall never be able to make their like again. If I must break them it would break my heart also, and I shall be slain – first of all the Eldar in Aman!

Mandos: [raises his head suddenly…] NOT the first….. [puzzled looks pass between the Valar and Elves alike. There is silence. Confused, Fëanor broods in the shadows]

Nerdanel: [pleadingly, in an undertone] Please, my Love, you are our only hope….if you could just let the Valar study the jewels maybe they might find a way to release the light…
Fëanor: [harshly interrupting] How do I know they will not destroy them in the attempt? Melkor warned me that the Silmarils were not safe if the Valar possess them. And is he not a Vala as they are, surely he understands their hearts? Yes, a thief will reveal thieves! [raises his voice and addresses the Valar] This thing I will not do of my own free will! If the Valar order me to give up the jewels to them then I shall know indeed that they are no better than Melkor.
Mandos: [gravely] As you have spoken, so shall it be!

Nienna rises, and goes to join Yavanna on the mound of Ezellohar. She casts back her grey hood, and begins to sing a lament of mourning for the bitterness of the world and the Marring of Arda. As she sings her tears course down her face and they wash away the defilements of Ungoliant and cleanse the remnants of the Trees.

Suddenly the sound of horses approaching is heard. Camera swings round to show two Elves hurrying into the Ring, pushing through the crowd, searching for someone. As they come closer we see it is Maedhros and Caranthir. Caranthir is visibly distraught. As he reaches his parents he clutches at his father, then sinks down on his knees, covering his face with his hands. Maedhros is grim-faced and pale. Maglor rushes forward in consternation. Nerdanel bends down and clasps Caranthir to her.


Nerdanel: [anxiously] Caranthir! My son, what distresses you so?
Fëanor: [addresses Maedhros] Where are the others – have you come alone? [Maedhros motions away behind him. and the camera swings around to see the other 4 brothers approaching the Ring of Doom on horseback. They rein in, and dismount, standing quietly together, waiting. ]

Manwë: [gently] Caranthir, the Darkness has spread fear and sorrow over us all, but the Enemy has passed for now. Apart from the Blessed Trees yonder, none here have been harmed, if that is what troubles your thoughts.
Caranthir: [pushes Nerdanel’s arms away and rises… Gulping deep breaths, he tries to calm himself.] Ada…
Maedhros: [interjects] My Lord! We bear new tidings of evil…… [murmurs of consternation]
Manwë: [urgently] Speak, Maedhros, son of Fëanor, that all may hear!

Maedhros: We saw the Light fade from our stronghold in Formenos, we set out to seek the cause of this. As we rode south a Darkness came towards us - a dark storm that moved by its own will. We realized that it was heading northwards with a purpose, towards the very homestead we had left unguarded but for Grandfather. We turned back and made chase. It was no ordinary darkness. It concealed a monstrous spider-like creature which bred a terror and a fear that robbed us of all wit and will when we came upon it. Our horses threw us to the ground and bolted while we lay blind and without strength.

Caranthir: When we recovered our senses we set off on foot. As we neared the stronghold we heard the sound of great blows, heard one piercing cry and saw a sudden flame of fire. From a distance we heard mocking laughter like the roar of the wind…
Manwë: [harshly] Melkor!

Caranthir: Ada, I ran ahead of the others…I found Grandfather alone on the threshold… [swallows, then continues falteringly,] …his head crushed as with a great mace of iron and his sword twisted and untempered as if by lightning-stroke! [the crowd gasps, and shouts of outrage break out. Fëanor blanches and clutches hand to his chest.. Caranthir begins sobbing again. ]

Camera swings round to the other brothers who move aside to show a bier, with the body of Finwë covered by an embroidered cloth. Indis exclaims and collapses sobbing into the arms of her sons and daughters. They lead her away towards the bier.


Maedhros: [hesitantly] That is not all, Ada…. Melkor then broke open the treasury, and took all the jewels that we held in that place.
Fëanor: ….all the jewels? [Maedhros nods, unable to look at him. Fëanor gasps as he realizes the implication] …the Silmarils? [Grabs Maedhros by the front of his jerkin and pulls his face close to his] Look at me!....Tell me he did not take the Silmarils as well! [Maedhros slowly raises his eyes to meet Fëanor’s]
Maedhros: [whispers] Ada...I am so sorry! [Fëanor releases Maedhros, and turns away, hiding his face. Maedhros’ shoulders droop and he stares at the ground. ]

On the Mound, Yavanna also begins weeping. Maedhros and Maglor try to console Caranthir who sobs that they shouldn’t have left Finwë, and that he is to blame, etc. Nerdanel tries to comfort Fëanor, but he pushes her away roughly. He steps up onto the dais before Manwë’s throne and turns to face the assembly. He lifts up his hand and screams aloud:
Fëanor: HEAR ME, MELKOR! I RENAME YOU MORGOTH! CURSE YOU, BLACK FOE OF THE WORLD!

Manwë: [stands] Beloved Child of Eru, we all share your grief and distress over this loss …
Fëanor: [interrupts angrily] Spare me your hypocrisy! I am minded to curse you also, Manwë Súlimo – You and all the Mighty Valar! If you had not summoned me in this hour to come to Taniquetil then I would have been by my Father’s side and his death might have been averted. My Father was dearer to me than the Light of Valinor or anything that I might have created with my hands. Now all that I held close in my heart has been lost! [Cries in anguish and runs from the Ring out into the night. Many other Elves are openly crying and wailing also. ]

* * * * * * *

Scene opens in a very high distance shot over mountains…
We see Morgoth and Ungoliant taking paths down a steep mountainside… Morgoth seems far ahead and Ungoliant scurries to catch up……. The camera slowly closes in until we see the two approaching a 200 foot straight drop …. Morgoth effortlessly slides over the side and works his way down almost as if he was a spider himself …. As Ungoliant begins to work her way down, her bulk shifts some softer rock and when her legs try to embrace it the section comes loose and she slides down very fast and goes head over heels to the ground crashing hard. Morgoth pauses and goes back to see if Ungoliant is alive. She is not moving. He takes his spear from his back and pokes at her front legs and they snap around the spear locking it tightly…


Ungoliant: [hissing] you are not so lucky as to find me dead.
Morgoth: Dead? You make light of yourself. I was hoping the fall had not hurt you.
Ungoliant: You chose these paths because you want to rid yourself of my burden. You are trying to avoid delivering to me all that you promised. “with both hands” you said.. and I hold you to your vow.
Morgoth: That time is not now. Come, if you are able…

[They continue over land that becomes barren plains. It is dimly lit and the vegetation becomes stunted and sickly looking. Fetid pools and swamps appear from time to time. The camera shows more distant shots similar to the Fellowship journeying from Rivendell in FOTR. We see Morgoth out in front and Ungoliant behind. Morgoth seems to be selecting the steepest ravines, the roughest rock outcroppings, the most fetid swamps and other landscape that slows and impedes Ungoliant. They approach a very flat stretch of ground which resembles tundra. Ahead they cannot see and all appears to be grey and white mists and smoke.]

Ungoliant: what is that?
Morgoth: Those are the great mists of Oiumërë …… and beyond The Helcaraxë…
Ungoliant: why are we going this way…. Is there no other path we can take?
Morgoth: You are free to take any path you desire. There are no chains upon you and I hold you to no service to me. This way is the only way for me. There will be no shame upon you if you decide it is not for you.
Ungoliant: [makes guttural noises] and as for the vow you made to me? When will that be paid?
Morgoth: we must go through the Mists and across the Grinding Ice…. Only when we get to Angband will we be truly safe from my brethren who pursue us this very moment.
Ungoliant: Forward I will go with you… but stay close. [fade]

*

Fade back into scene of them going through the Mists
These are various unhealthy colours. At one point Ungoliant slips into a pool of oily looking slime, sinks below the surface and emerges gasping and spewing water.

Morgoth: You are not being very careful. [Ungoliant simply responds with screeches and more guttural noises.]

We see them emerge from the Mists and the Helcaraxë stretches before them seemingly forever. While the start of it looks like a solid sheet of ice, in the distance they see mountains of ice that appear to be moving and shifting, some at great speed and of a height thousands of feet into the air. We can hear the grinding of the ice and the cracking and splitting of ice.

Morgoth: Come – we cross here.
Ungoliant: Fool! We will be crushed before we get even partway across!
Morgoth: Do as you wish. I cross here. You can stay and welcome those who pursue us when they find you here alone.

They begin to cross the ice fields. Scenes of terrible hurricane force winds forcing even Morgoth to bend and struggle against them. Scenes of them climbing ice mountains and nearly being sliced in pieces as large sections of ice fall around them or break away at their feet.

Ungoliant turns the colour of pale ash and even Morgoth appears cold. They approach a narrow ravine through two ice hills. Overhead is a natural arch of ice that forms a tunnel, zigging and zagging for thousands of feet….. the path rises and falls and is very treacherous. Morgoth begins to stride through it and Ungoliant follows after. We see Morgoth several hundred feet ahead and he takes his spear and jabs it several times into the ice canopy and both sides of the walls which are much narrower here than in other places. He moves on. As Ungoliant approaches she pauses and questions if she can squeeze through the narrow passage…. She hesitates and begins to move forward….. her bulk brushing against the sides and canopy begin to dislodge large sections of jagged ice which crashes around and upon her. She tries to retreat but only succeeds in dislodging even more ice. The screen goes white.


*

When it clears we see Ungoliant partially trapped under much jagged ice. One of her legs near the front of her body is trapped under the deepest section of ice. She is positioned in such a way so she can free other limbs but cannot reach the trapped leg. She tries to reach the ice with her beak but can only get as far as where her leg meets her torso missing the ice by a few feet. The deathly silence is broken by a harsh and mocking voice.

Morgoth: What have you gotten yourself into Clumsy One?
Ungoliant: Help me… free me from this ice ….
Morgoth: I made no promise of aid should you need it. You are holding me to my vow and I will honour it. No more and no less. Shall I feed you the jewels of Fëanor to sustain you in your prison of ice? I will gladly do it.
Ungoliant: [her voice rising to a shrill and deafening scream] Free me! [Ice begins to come down in places and she instantly quiets.]
Morgoth: Fool! You will bury both of us completely…. I know I can rise from the tomb but it is not so easy for you. I will wait for you in Angband… [laughs in mocking derision and moves on.]

The camera comes in close on Ungoliant and we see her stretch her head to try to pick at the ice pinning her leg. But despite a mighty effort she only succeeds in getting herself even more pinned in. Cut.]


* * * * * * *

ONE MORE PART TO COME!

_________________
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: Wed Apr 27, 2011 8:52 am 
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LAST SEGMENT:

Fade into scene at the Ring of Doom.
It is dark save for the light of the stars. The Valar are seated solemnly in silence, conversing only with their thoughts. The Maiar and the Vanyar Elves stand or sit beside them some openly weeping.

A sparrow flies in, and tries to land on a branch, of one of the Trees which cracks and lands on the ground. The bird continues its flight, with camera panning behind. We see the last of Noldor Elves winding their way back towards their city of Tirion. A fog drifts in through the Calacirya from the sea, blanketing the city in gloom.

A faint red light appears inside the city gates, and the sparrow heads for the light. As the sparrow gets close enough we see it is Fëanor, carrying a torch. He is marching through the streets, calling for the people to follow him to the High Court of the King on the summit of Túna. More and more people appear behind him, also carrying torches, and the procession winds its way up the hill like a great snake of fire, a red hue illuminating the sky.

The bird lands in a fountain in the Court. Fëanor climbs onto the fountain almost stepping on the bird, with a look of madness in his eyes.


Fëanor: [quietly, almost to himself] All joy has ended… [speaks louder for all to hear] Why, O people of the Noldor… why do we linger after what has happened? Why should we longer serve the Valar, Jealous of what we have become, the almighty powers, [anger rising in his voice] who sat, feasted, and did nothing, to protect and secure their realm against their own enemy?

Elf 1: By what right do you speak for us? The doom of banishment from your father’s kingdom still lays upon you!
Fëanor: My Father lies dead yonder! [gestures towards Finwë’s house] I am his eldest son, and I claim the kingship of all my people, whatever decrees the Valar might make upon me. Even my erstwhile half-brother vowed before Manwë to follow my lead in all things.
Elf 2: Let us fetch your brothers and hear what they think of this rebellious talk [murmurs and grunts of reluctant agreement. A couple of elves run off towards Finwë’s House.]
Fëanor: [quietly, yet loud enough for all to hear] These mighty Valar cannot keep us, whether they try it or not And though Morgoth be their foe, and ours… [Again in a mad tone] ...is he not of the kin of those same Valar, who seek to keep us from being kings of what is rightfully ours?
Elf 1: Have they ever said they would withhold us?

[Fingolfin and Finarfin have come running, followed by their sons and daughters]
Fingolfin: Peace, brother, you are understandably overwrought with grief, as we all are, do not do or say anything that will bode evil for your cause with the Valar… would you leave Eldamar in pursuit of vengeance?
Fëanor: [Quieter again, though with anger simmering] It is vengeance which calls me thence, to the hither lands… yet I would no longer stay in the land of my father’s slayer, and thief of the last of the light which we all held dear.
Finarfin: No good can come of repaying evil with evil, however valiant your intentions…

Fëanor: [heatedly] Have you not also lost your king? And who knows what else being cooped up between the mountains and the sea! How can you still respect those same [sarcastically] Lords and Mistresses who cannot contain one of their own?

Finarfin: [reproachfully] Was he not my father also? yet I am not so rash as to run away at the first sign of peril.
Fëanor: [regains his composure] Here we had light… but now it is dead. And dark levels all, and the last remnant has fled across the sea. [looks around, and we see other Elves nodding in agreement, hanging on his every word ] You see, I am not the only valiant Noldo here… [gaining volume] Shall we return to reclaim our home from the Dark Lord?

[crowds start to buzz with interest and excitement. Some Noldor mutter in disagreement:]
Turgon: Does that mean we should also flee across the sea? You speak the same lies Melkor would have us believe before – that the Valar have defrauded us and held us captive so that Men might rule in Middle-earth in our stead. Why should we believe you now, we have everything we could want here! [part of the crowd nods and calls out in agreement.]
Fëanor: Shall we stay here in constant lament, dropping our vain tears into the wide sea which separates us from what we hold dear? [murmurs of disapproval from the crowd; Fëanor continues loudly] Or shall we return to reclaim what is ours? [loud cheers echo from sections of the crowd] In Cuivenen the water ran sweet under a starry sky and wide lands lay about for us to walk upon, yet the Valar fooled us, and took us from it to be their pets.

Finrod: [irritably] Do not listen. Think my fellow citizens, when have we ever been treated like pets?

Fëanor: Do those lands not still lie there and await the return of those who in folly forsook them? Come with me! we shall return and rule there! Leave the Cowards to keep this city; we shall create better where we go!
[Camera focuses on Galadriel during Fëanor’s speech. We see in her luminous face how his words have found fertile soil in her heart and mind. She glances at Fingon who is standing near her.]
Fingon: [nods encouragingly at her, his face also lit up with excitement. He whispers to her:] We shall all have our own realms to rule! [Galadriel clasps his arm in affirmation and steps forward.]

Galadriel: If none others see the wisdom of these words, I shall stand alone of the Noldor with Fëanor!

[The larger part of the crowd roars and cheers, then the other Elves start to voice opposition to them, fierce arguments begin.
Fëanor steps down from the fountain, looking satisfied with himself, nods to Galadriel and moves towards where his sons are standing tall and proud. Finarfin sees the crowd starting to get out of hand and takes up the position Fëanor has just vacated.]


Finarfin: [shouts above the noise:] Fellow Noldor! I urge restraint and calm… [noise subsides a little] let every Elf stop and think and hard before deeds are done that anyone regrets. [Aegnor nods in agreement] Let each Noldor examine his own conscience and decide whether he wants to take the first step on such a path. We should not abandon our precious city lightly.
Fingolfin: I must make my stand against such folly as my half-brother proposes. I fear this road leads to sorrows none can yet forsee. [Turgon stands beside his father in like accord.]Finrod: [moves to stand by Turgon] I too side with my uncle and cousin. This is foolishness that you speak! [Aegnor and Angrod stand silently by their father, Finarfin, and look questioningly at Galadriel. She hesitates, looks again at Fëanor and his sons, then reluctantly walks over to join her family. Fingon also is beckoned over by his brothers.]

Fëanor: [scornfully] Is sorrow prophesied for us? Here in Aman we have seen it. Here we have come through bliss to woe. Shall we not try the other – to go through sorrow to find joy – or freedom at the least!
Finarfin: Again I beg you reconsider this folly. Have you spared any thought to how we should make this journey? And to what we might find at the end of it?
Fëanor: Fair shall the end be! And though the road will be hard and long, say farewell to bondage! Say farewell also to ease! Say farewell to the weak! Say farewell to your treasures! Greater still shall we make where we go!. [roars erupt from the crowd, shouts of “We shall reclaim what is ours!, “Vengeance on the Dark Lord!”, etc]
Fëanor: Journey light, yet take your swords. For we shall go longer than Oromë, we shall endure longer than Tulkas, but we shall not turn back from our pursuit of Morgoth even unto the ends of the Earth. [Crowd shouts in greater agreement now, though some still shout for Fingolfin to lead them as their King. Fëanor draws his sword menacingly, pacing around the Court.] Brother, you vowed before the throne of Manwë to follow me in all things. What say you now? [Fingon whispers urgently in his father’s ear]

Fingolfin: I do not forget the promise I made… [wearily] I will march with you – against my better judgement - because I do not wish to be sundered from those of my people who are eager to go, nor to leave them to your rash counsels.
Finarfin: Then I also will go, most loath though I am to depart this fair city and the love I bear for Aulë, at least.
Fëanor: [grins in satisfaction] So be it. Those who wish to stay may do so without fear of harassment. As for those of us that depart, [voice rises with passion] we shall always bring war, and hatred to those who stand in the way of our goal. And when we have recaptured the Silmarils, we shall be lords of light, and no race shall oust us. I swear this oath for all to hear:
[Fëanor’s sons jump up and all draw swords to take the oath as well; the swords catch the light of flame, and look as if they are stained with fresh blood]


Be he foe or friend, be he foul or clean,
Brood of Morgoth or bright Vala, Elda or Maia or Aftercomer,
Man yet unborn upon Middle-earth,
Neither law, nor love, nor league of swords,
dread nor danger, not Doom itself shall defend him from Fëanor, and Fëanor’s kin,
Whoso hideth or hoardeth or in hand taketh, finding keepeth or afar casteth a Silmaril.
This swear we all:
Death we will deal him ere Day’s ending,
Woe unto the world’s end! Our word hear thou, Eru Allfather!
To the everlasting darkness doom us if our deed faileth…
On the holy mountain hear in witness, and our vow remember, Manwë and Varda!

[Cut to the sparrow, who flies away back toward Ellezohar. He lands on Manwë’s shoulder, and whispers to his ear what is happening at Tirion. Manwë looks up in concern.]
Varda: What is it? Has some news come?
Manwë: News indeed, yet not that for which I had hoped. [gestures for Eonwë to step forward.] I must send a Herald to Tirion. [addresses Eonwë] Give this message to Fëanor… [voice trails off as screen fades to black.]


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

_________________
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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