Season 1 Episode 2
Scene opens on two Dwarves approaching Minas Tirith, both astride ponies. One is Gimli, the other a much younger Dwarf, who stares ahead of him in amazement at the looming City. As the camera zooms in, we hear Gimli making comments about how the City is looking since he last visited, things like how the layout of the streets has been improved and repaved “with finest white marble from the Glittering Caves, you know…” As they pass the City Gates, he remarks: “Ah, fine pair of gates, those. Built to last a lifetime, well nigh-indestructible…made of mithril and steel….absolutely priceless – I certainly hope that is not a dent!” [Strains to inspect invisible damage as they ride through, almost losing his balance! The other dwarf looks rather concerned.
Farin: Careful, Lord Gimli!
Cut to scene of them entering the Courtyard of the Fountain. Trumpets sound.
Gimli: Ah, nice of them to put out all the trimmings just for a humble Dwarf…
[Sounds of horses and harness, clatter of armour. Camera shift behind Gimli to show Aragorn, riding with an escort. Farin glances back. His eyes widen. Aragorn gestures silence, grinning broadly.]
Farin: [apprehensive] My Lord. . . ?
Gimli: Look around ye, laddie. This is a fine example of Dwarvish stonework --
Farin: Lord Gimli! [turns and points behind them.]
[Gimli turns. He gapes. Aragorn laughs as he dismounts. Gimli scrambles off his pony and bows, blushing.]
Aragorn: [embraces Gimli] Old friends are always the most welcome. I had not expected you so soon.
Gimli: Ah, we made better time than I thought we would…yer Majesty…
Aragorn: No titles between us, My Lord of the Caves. [turns to escort] Go on, and take my horse. I will walk from here.
[Escort bows in unison and exits, leading Aragorn’s horse.]
Aragorn: [turns to Farin] Surely you know you are supposed to obey your elders?
Farin: That is what Mother says, but it is not easy.
Gimli: [ruffles Farin’s hair] Ye have nae met my squire yet. This is Farin, me late Uncle Oin’s grandson. Farin, this is King Elessar. He went adventuring with me when he was a bit younger.
Farin: [bows] Your Majesty…
Aragorn: Oh no. Not you too…
Gimli: Ye dinnae find the crown ye fought sae hard tae win tae yer liking?
Aragorn: Like most things, it has good points and bad points. There are times I would give much to be back in the Pony, with a mug of good ale and no greater worry than whether I should keep my boots on. [chuckles] Today I have spent inspecting some waterworks on the north wall. As if I know anything about constructing aquaducts!
Gimli: Och! Now there’s a problem I can help ye with. Ye should see the fountains we are carving in the caves! Sheets an’ spires o’ water sparklin’ in the light that filters in from narrow shafts cut through crystals. Rainbows are dancing on our walls. I brought Legolas in tae see our work, an’ he…
[Camera pulls back and follows the group as they walk up the hill, voices fading.]
* * *
Cut to Palace entrance:
Aragorn, Gimli, and Farin enter, still talking.
Gimli: I would be glad tae take a look at those plans for ye. From what yer tellin’ me, it sounds like yer architect ought tae be stirrin’ pots in the kitchen!
Farin: [hesitantly] Speaking of kitchens, I am a little hungry after our journey.
Aragorn: Of course you are. If you head down that corridor [points] and turn left at the end, you will reach the kitchens. Cook always has a remedy for an empty stomach!
Farin: [looks to Gimli]
Gimli: [nods] Go on wi’ ye.
[Farin dashes off]
Aragorn: He will no doubt find Eldarion somewhere along the way.
Gimli: Yer lad must be getting tall. Last I saw of him, he had just lost a tooth . . .
Cut to end of hallway.
[Farin slows and glances down both directions. Camera shifts to Eldarion, who turns. They stare at each other for a moment, then walk toward each other.]
Eldarion: [proudly] I heard you miles back.
Farin: [throws shoulders back] Aye, ye may have. But I can knock ye down.
Eldarion: [stands as tall as he can] You could try. I am big for eight years old.
Farin: An’ I am nearly three and forty. [more quietly] But I can nae grow a beard yet.
Eldarion: [eyes widen] Three and forty . . .! Are you a Dwarf, then?
Farin: [bemused] What did ye think I was?
Eldarion: I have never seen a Dwarf child. [grins] That means Gimli has arrived!
Farin: Aye. He is my uncle – cousin, really, but he has always been like an uncle to me since my father died…
Eldarion: Ada did not tell me there was anyone else coming. It will be great fun to have someone around besides my sister. [holds out a hand] My name is Eldarion.
Farin: [takes hand] I am Farin.
Eldarion: I was going to get something to eat. Are you hungry?
Farin: Starving. Do adults nae need tae eat?
Eldarion: Not much. But we are growing boys. They are only growing bellies! [Farin giggles. Camera follows boys down corridor. Fade out]
Camera open on White Tree.
[Farin and Eldarion balance on the wall around the tree. A jug and a basket of sugared nuts sit to one side. The boys are tossing nuts at each other and catching them in their mouths. Guards watch, smiling.
Shift to Aragorn and Gimli, crossing the courtyard.
Shift to Eldarion, who sees Aragorn and Gimli approach. Eldarion jumps off the wall with a shout and runs to his father and Gimli. Farin tries to see what is happening, stumbles, and falls off the wall.]
Eldarion: [hugs Gimli] Gimli! My tooth grew back. See? [pulls his cheek aside]
Aragorn: Do I not get a hug?
Eldarion: I see you every day, Ada.
Farin: [brushes his tunic. Gapes at Eldarion] You are a prince? Why did you not say so?
Eldarion: Because everyone treats me different once they know.
Gimli: I am glad ye two are getting along well. We are going tae have a long ride through Ithilien together.
[Eldarion and Farin cheer excitedly]
Aragorn: Now I think we had all best clean up before dinner. That is, if either of you have any room left. [Aragorn, Gimli, Eldarion and Farin exit.]
Camera shift to two guards, who move to pick up jug and basket. Guards look at each other, grin. One throws a nut, the other tries to catch it in his mouth. The nut bounces off his chin. Laughter as Camera fade.
* * *
Cut to scene towards end of evening dinner. Hubub of general conversation between the adults, Farin is drawn out of his a shell a bit and we learn some of his family history. Eldarion tells Farin that his mother has been teaching him the history of the Elves, etc. but he doesn’t know anything about Dwarves. Farin suggests he asks Gimli,, as he “tells a good story or two.
Eldarion: I wonder, Gimli, Mother has been telling me the tales of the creation of our world, and of the Valar, and the awakening of the Elves. But she has not said anything of the Dwarves yet. Can you tell me how your people came to be part of Middle-earth?
Gimli: Ah, Laddie, that I can….did your good mother tell you about Aulë the Smith, eh? [Eldarion nods, eagerly] Well, it was he that first thought of us Dwarves. All on his own, he did. It was not part of Eru’s vision, you know. You see, Aulë was a master craftsman, and he longed for children of his own to pass on all his knowledge and expertise, and he was too impatient to wait for Eru’s own children, the Elves, to awaken……
[here we go to CGI/live action visual clips of the creation of the Dwarves with Gimli’s voiceover]
Aulë created his own children, the Dwarves. However, he didn’t have a clear idea of what Eru’s Children would be like, and because of the chaos caused by Melkor, Aulë made the Dwarves strong and unyielding, and not willing to endure the domination of others. However Aulë did not have the power to give independent life to his creations.
Then Eru became aware of what Aulë had done, and he spoke to him: ‘Why have you done this? Why do you attempt a thing which you know is beyond your power and your authority?'
Aulë replied that he only wished for other beings to love and teach, with whom to share in the beauty of the world. He admitted that his impatience had driven him to folly and he submitted his creations to Eru to pass judgment on his work. Believing the Eru would condemn the Dwarves to be destroyed, Aulë took up a great hammer to smite the Dwarves, and he wept and the Dwarves shrank from the hammer in fear. They bowed down their heads and begged for mercy.
But Eru had compassion upon Aulë and his desire, because of his humility. And the voice of Eru said to Aulë: 'Your offer I accepted even as it was made. Do you not see that these things have now a life of their own, and speak with their own voices? Else they would not have flinched from your blow, nor from any command of your will.' Then Aulë put down his hammer and was glad....
Cut back to Gimli
Gimli: Eru accepted us Dwarves as his adopted children, but because he had already decreed that the Elves were to be his first-born race, he set us to sleep until after the Elves had awakened. He also warned Aulë that although Dwarves and Elves were both his children, the Dwarves were created outside the vision created during the Music of the Ainur, and often strife would arise between our two races. And how true he was, Laddie, I can tell you.
Eldarion: But you and Legolas are great friends? So Dwarves and Elves are not always enemies.
Gimli: Aye, Laddie, you are right enough, but ‘twas not always so. There is many a dark tale I could tell you … [Gets a disapproving look from Aragorn] Ahm…but maybe that should wait for another time.
Eldarion: [disappointed] Oh….
Aragorn: Come, now...it is time you two were heading for your beds. We will have an early start tomorrow. [Eldarion groans, and stifles a yawn. Farin grins at Eldarion and the pair take their leave from the table. Cut ]
* * * * * * *
TO BE CONTINUED...
The History of the Silmarils - Season 1, Episode 2
The History of the Silmarils - Season 1, Episode 2
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
~Diana Cortes
CONTINUED...
Fade into scene next morning, of party setting out from Palace
Arwen & daughter wave the party off. Cut to shots of them riding down the winding streets of the city and out of the main gates. Eldarion is bouncing in his saddle with excitement. Farin is not so eager as he has been in the saddle for days! Maybe some overhead shots of the party as it reaches the Rammas Echor, then cut to shots of the outline of Osgiliath hazy in the distance.
As the party approaches Osgiliath we hear Aragorn describing how the city was once the most beautiful in Middle-earth, founded by Elendil as the capital of Gondor when he fled the Downfall of Númenor and established the twin kingdoms in Middle-earth. He points out various landmarks. The party dismounts to take a look around. Gimli shows particular interest in the great bridge:
Aragorn: The two halves of the great city were spanned by this enormous stone bridge, one of the greatest accomplishments of Dúnedain engineering . Great stone towers and houses were built along the Great Bridge.
Gimli: So how is the rebuilding work coming along here? I can see the stone masons are competent enough…ah….[somewhat surprised, he spots a couple of Elvish craftmen pouring over some architectural blueprints] … Elves? I must go and see if they need a hand with any of the technical details. [He wanders off to speak with the Elves.]
Aragorn: [To Eldarion, he points] Do you see that? The great dome all broken and open to the sky? that was once home to the great Palantír of the Southern Kingdoms. It was placed in that tower on the bridge and the domed ceiling was painted to resemble a starry sky. Its name was the Dome of Stars – Osgiliath in Elvish and thus this city was named for it.
Eldarion: Er,.. what is a palantír?
Aragorn: A seeing stone… [looks solemn, and stares into the distance for a second, then recites slowly]
“Tall ships and tall kings
Three times three,
What bought they from the foundered land
Over the flowing sea?
Seven stars and seven stones
And one white tree.”
Eldarion: I understand some of that rhyme – is it the White Tree of Gondor at the palace? And the seven stars on your banner? But I have never heard about the stones before.
Aragorn: The stones were made by the Elves of Valinor in the West, by the Noldor and maybe even Fëanor himself. They were rather like crystal balls, that you could use to communicate with people a long way away.
Eldarion: Elven magic! Did the Elves bring them to Middle-earth, then?
Aragorn: The Master Stone was kept in the tower of Avallonë on the island of Tol Eressëa, and some were given to the Men of Númenor as a gift during the Second Age. Elendil brought seven with him on his flight to Middle-earth, and they were distributed around his new kingdom.
Eldarion: Ada, is it still there? I want to have a look…
Aragorn: [laughs] No, son. The stone of Osgiliath was the first to be lost – during the civil war of the kin-strife – you do remember that from your History lessons, don’t you? [Eldarion frowns for a moment then nods enthusiastically] – it was thrown into the River Anduin and swept out to sea. All the others have perished, or been rendered unusable, except one. That is the Stone of Orthanc, where the fallen wizard Saruman had his stronghold for many years. Using the stone, he became ensnared by Sauron who had captured the Stone of Minas Ithil. I have set the Orthanc Stone up there again so that I can keep an eye on what goes on in the farthest reaches of the kingdom. [sees Eldarion hopping up and down again] Yes, one day I will take you with me to see it!
Eldarion: Thank you, Ada! [turns to Farin] He always keeps his word, you know? [turns back to his father] So what did the stones look like? How did the Elves make them? Who is this Fëanor person you mentioned?
Aragorn: Hmm, we have been neglecting the family history, I see. Especially on your Mother’s side… Do you realize, young man, that you can trace your ancestry back to Fëanor’s father, Finwë, on your mother's side of the family?
Eldarion: [thinks for a bit] Is that a long way back? [Aragorn nods] So, who was he, then? [hopeful] A handsome prince? a brave warrior Elf?
Aragorn: [smiles] Both, and much more!
Farin: I believe, Sir, that I could fill the Prince in a little [to Eldarion] He was a Prince of the Noldor: the Noldor were beloved of Aulë the Smith, and were the first to discover and carve gems, even before us Dwarves.
Aragorn: True-spoken, Farin. The Noldor are accounted the best of the Elves and all the peoples in Middle-earth in lore, warfare and crafts. In Valinor their thirst for knowledge and their skill became great, and in many things they soon surpassed their teachers. They dwelt in the city of Tirion. Fëanor, son of Finwë and Míriel, was the greatest of their craftsmen, mightiest in skill of word and of hand, and creator of the Silmarils….
* * * * *
[Fade into Fëanor’s story, first scene maybe shortly after Fëanor’s birth. His father Finwë holds the baby, cooing over him , but his silver-haired mother Míriel is lying wan and drained in bed, and has no interest in the baby. She is melancholy:]
Finwë: Our son is strong and healthy - he will make a fine and skilful craftsman like his father - he shall be named Curufinwë. What say you?
Míriel: Let me look at him.... [Finwë brings the baby over for her to hold, but she makes no move to take her son. She looks into his face and for a second the baby's eyes meet hers. She gazes at him for a moment then closes her eyes and looks away. Finwë gathers the baby back close to him again]
Míriel: ...I shall not bear you another child. All the strength that I possessed has gone into this son and his spirit burns within him like a fire! His name shall be Fëanor...
Finwë : That is a fine and worthy name for the Prince of the Noldor....but, why speak you so? [hopefully] surely there is healing here with the Valar to protect us? In Aman all the weary can find rest.
Míriel: [shakes her head sadly, then seeing Finwë’s face fall, changes her mind] Perhaps I will go to the house of Irmo in Lórien a while, then.
Finwë : It is a sad thing that you must be parted from Fëanor so soon after his birth, he will need you.
Míriel: It is indeed unhappy, and I would weep if I were not so weary, but do not blame me, it is the will of Eru…
* * * * *
Cut to gardens of Lórien.
Míriel lies down on the grass among the fragrant flowers. Finwë sits beside her, his hand gently covering hers. She shuts her eyes and seems to drift off to sleep. However, her spirit leaves her body and passes to the Halls of Mandos. The maidens of Estë appear in the gardens to tend Míriel’s body, and at this point Finwë realizes she has died. He lets out a cry of anguish and doubles over her body. After a while, Lórien appears, and leads Finwë gently away.
Cut to scene of Finwë picking Fëanor up out of his cradle and hugging him.
Finwë : You are my life now, little one. [fade to darkness]
* * * * *
Fade back to Aragorn & Eldarion
Eldarion: That is very sad, Ada, it must have been truly awful for Fëanor to grow up without his mother...
Aragorn: Yes, it was indeed a terribly sad thing to have happened, but Finwë was devoted to his son, and Fëanor grew swiftly. His spirit was like a candle which burns much brighter and with more heat than any other. Tall, elegant, and masterful, with piercingly bright eyes and very dark hair, he shone with his audacity. He was always focused on his own pursuits and potential, seldom taking counsel from anyone... [fade back to clips of Fëanor growing up, studying letters under Rúmil, and working in Mahtan’s forge, etc illustrating the voiceover]
Aragorn: He studied under Rúmil of Tirion, the Loremaster who invented the first Elvish alphabet. Fëanor improved on this with his own version of the letters - Tengwar - which the Elves have used ever since. He was apprenticed to the smith Mahtan, who had studied with Aulë, and he learned much about crafting things in metal and stone. It was Fëanor who first discovered how to make gems greater and brighter than those found in the earth. He even made crystals that made things far away seem as clear as if viewed with the eyes of Manwë's eagles…the Palantíri.
He married Mahtan’s daughter, Nerdanel, who was also strong willed, but more patient than her husband, and she was able to restrain him at first when his temper got the better of him. She bore him seven sons - some of who took after her temperament, but others inherited the fiery spirit of their father. [We see montge of relevant clips, ending with one of the boys playing, twins bouncing on Nerdanel’s knees]
Cut to clip of Finwë's marriage to Indis, with Fëanor looking displeased in the corner.
Aragorn: As for Finwë, eventually he stopped visiting Míriel's grave, and thought to take another wife, though the shadow of Míriel was forever in his heart. The wedding of his father was not pleasing to Fëanor, and he made no effort to get along with his stepmother. He stayed away from Finwë’s house after this, busying himself with gathering knowledge and learning new crafts. Indis bore Finwë four children, including their sons Fingolfin and Finarfin...
[cut back to Aragorn & Eldarion]
Eldarion: [sighs] I suppose his father preferred his new family to his eldest son?
Aragorn: On the contary, Fëanor was ever foremost in his father’s thoughts, and he had the greater share of his love, but Fëanor had no love for his half-siblings … ‘twas this breach in the House of Finwë that was the beginning of the sorrow and strife to fall on him and his heirs …
Eldarion: [looks disgruntled] If his sisters were like mine I can understand that...why do we have to bother with girls, Ada?
Aragorn: [chuckles] Give yourself a few years, son….now, you remember Melkor, who caused all that trouble for the Valar, breaking their Lamps, and corrupting the Elves? Whilst Fëanor and the craftsmen of the Noldor worked in peace and contentment, and Finwë’s other sons grew to their full stature, Melkor complete the terms of his imprisonment, having spent three ages alone in the Halls of Mandos. At length, he was brought again before the thrones of the Valar for judgement… [cut into live action]
* * * * *
MORE TO FOLLOW...
Fade into scene next morning, of party setting out from Palace
Arwen & daughter wave the party off. Cut to shots of them riding down the winding streets of the city and out of the main gates. Eldarion is bouncing in his saddle with excitement. Farin is not so eager as he has been in the saddle for days! Maybe some overhead shots of the party as it reaches the Rammas Echor, then cut to shots of the outline of Osgiliath hazy in the distance.
As the party approaches Osgiliath we hear Aragorn describing how the city was once the most beautiful in Middle-earth, founded by Elendil as the capital of Gondor when he fled the Downfall of Númenor and established the twin kingdoms in Middle-earth. He points out various landmarks. The party dismounts to take a look around. Gimli shows particular interest in the great bridge:
Aragorn: The two halves of the great city were spanned by this enormous stone bridge, one of the greatest accomplishments of Dúnedain engineering . Great stone towers and houses were built along the Great Bridge.
Gimli: So how is the rebuilding work coming along here? I can see the stone masons are competent enough…ah….[somewhat surprised, he spots a couple of Elvish craftmen pouring over some architectural blueprints] … Elves? I must go and see if they need a hand with any of the technical details. [He wanders off to speak with the Elves.]
Aragorn: [To Eldarion, he points] Do you see that? The great dome all broken and open to the sky? that was once home to the great Palantír of the Southern Kingdoms. It was placed in that tower on the bridge and the domed ceiling was painted to resemble a starry sky. Its name was the Dome of Stars – Osgiliath in Elvish and thus this city was named for it.
Eldarion: Er,.. what is a palantír?
Aragorn: A seeing stone… [looks solemn, and stares into the distance for a second, then recites slowly]
“Tall ships and tall kings
Three times three,
What bought they from the foundered land
Over the flowing sea?
Seven stars and seven stones
And one white tree.”
Eldarion: I understand some of that rhyme – is it the White Tree of Gondor at the palace? And the seven stars on your banner? But I have never heard about the stones before.
Aragorn: The stones were made by the Elves of Valinor in the West, by the Noldor and maybe even Fëanor himself. They were rather like crystal balls, that you could use to communicate with people a long way away.
Eldarion: Elven magic! Did the Elves bring them to Middle-earth, then?
Aragorn: The Master Stone was kept in the tower of Avallonë on the island of Tol Eressëa, and some were given to the Men of Númenor as a gift during the Second Age. Elendil brought seven with him on his flight to Middle-earth, and they were distributed around his new kingdom.
Eldarion: Ada, is it still there? I want to have a look…
Aragorn: [laughs] No, son. The stone of Osgiliath was the first to be lost – during the civil war of the kin-strife – you do remember that from your History lessons, don’t you? [Eldarion frowns for a moment then nods enthusiastically] – it was thrown into the River Anduin and swept out to sea. All the others have perished, or been rendered unusable, except one. That is the Stone of Orthanc, where the fallen wizard Saruman had his stronghold for many years. Using the stone, he became ensnared by Sauron who had captured the Stone of Minas Ithil. I have set the Orthanc Stone up there again so that I can keep an eye on what goes on in the farthest reaches of the kingdom. [sees Eldarion hopping up and down again] Yes, one day I will take you with me to see it!
Eldarion: Thank you, Ada! [turns to Farin] He always keeps his word, you know? [turns back to his father] So what did the stones look like? How did the Elves make them? Who is this Fëanor person you mentioned?
Aragorn: Hmm, we have been neglecting the family history, I see. Especially on your Mother’s side… Do you realize, young man, that you can trace your ancestry back to Fëanor’s father, Finwë, on your mother's side of the family?
Eldarion: [thinks for a bit] Is that a long way back? [Aragorn nods] So, who was he, then? [hopeful] A handsome prince? a brave warrior Elf?
Aragorn: [smiles] Both, and much more!
Farin: I believe, Sir, that I could fill the Prince in a little [to Eldarion] He was a Prince of the Noldor: the Noldor were beloved of Aulë the Smith, and were the first to discover and carve gems, even before us Dwarves.
Aragorn: True-spoken, Farin. The Noldor are accounted the best of the Elves and all the peoples in Middle-earth in lore, warfare and crafts. In Valinor their thirst for knowledge and their skill became great, and in many things they soon surpassed their teachers. They dwelt in the city of Tirion. Fëanor, son of Finwë and Míriel, was the greatest of their craftsmen, mightiest in skill of word and of hand, and creator of the Silmarils….
* * * * *
[Fade into Fëanor’s story, first scene maybe shortly after Fëanor’s birth. His father Finwë holds the baby, cooing over him , but his silver-haired mother Míriel is lying wan and drained in bed, and has no interest in the baby. She is melancholy:]
Finwë: Our son is strong and healthy - he will make a fine and skilful craftsman like his father - he shall be named Curufinwë. What say you?
Míriel: Let me look at him.... [Finwë brings the baby over for her to hold, but she makes no move to take her son. She looks into his face and for a second the baby's eyes meet hers. She gazes at him for a moment then closes her eyes and looks away. Finwë gathers the baby back close to him again]
Míriel: ...I shall not bear you another child. All the strength that I possessed has gone into this son and his spirit burns within him like a fire! His name shall be Fëanor...
Finwë : That is a fine and worthy name for the Prince of the Noldor....but, why speak you so? [hopefully] surely there is healing here with the Valar to protect us? In Aman all the weary can find rest.
Míriel: [shakes her head sadly, then seeing Finwë’s face fall, changes her mind] Perhaps I will go to the house of Irmo in Lórien a while, then.
Finwë : It is a sad thing that you must be parted from Fëanor so soon after his birth, he will need you.
Míriel: It is indeed unhappy, and I would weep if I were not so weary, but do not blame me, it is the will of Eru…
* * * * *
Cut to gardens of Lórien.
Míriel lies down on the grass among the fragrant flowers. Finwë sits beside her, his hand gently covering hers. She shuts her eyes and seems to drift off to sleep. However, her spirit leaves her body and passes to the Halls of Mandos. The maidens of Estë appear in the gardens to tend Míriel’s body, and at this point Finwë realizes she has died. He lets out a cry of anguish and doubles over her body. After a while, Lórien appears, and leads Finwë gently away.
Cut to scene of Finwë picking Fëanor up out of his cradle and hugging him.
Finwë : You are my life now, little one. [fade to darkness]
* * * * *
Fade back to Aragorn & Eldarion
Eldarion: That is very sad, Ada, it must have been truly awful for Fëanor to grow up without his mother...
Aragorn: Yes, it was indeed a terribly sad thing to have happened, but Finwë was devoted to his son, and Fëanor grew swiftly. His spirit was like a candle which burns much brighter and with more heat than any other. Tall, elegant, and masterful, with piercingly bright eyes and very dark hair, he shone with his audacity. He was always focused on his own pursuits and potential, seldom taking counsel from anyone... [fade back to clips of Fëanor growing up, studying letters under Rúmil, and working in Mahtan’s forge, etc illustrating the voiceover]
Aragorn: He studied under Rúmil of Tirion, the Loremaster who invented the first Elvish alphabet. Fëanor improved on this with his own version of the letters - Tengwar - which the Elves have used ever since. He was apprenticed to the smith Mahtan, who had studied with Aulë, and he learned much about crafting things in metal and stone. It was Fëanor who first discovered how to make gems greater and brighter than those found in the earth. He even made crystals that made things far away seem as clear as if viewed with the eyes of Manwë's eagles…the Palantíri.
He married Mahtan’s daughter, Nerdanel, who was also strong willed, but more patient than her husband, and she was able to restrain him at first when his temper got the better of him. She bore him seven sons - some of who took after her temperament, but others inherited the fiery spirit of their father. [We see montge of relevant clips, ending with one of the boys playing, twins bouncing on Nerdanel’s knees]
Cut to clip of Finwë's marriage to Indis, with Fëanor looking displeased in the corner.
Aragorn: As for Finwë, eventually he stopped visiting Míriel's grave, and thought to take another wife, though the shadow of Míriel was forever in his heart. The wedding of his father was not pleasing to Fëanor, and he made no effort to get along with his stepmother. He stayed away from Finwë’s house after this, busying himself with gathering knowledge and learning new crafts. Indis bore Finwë four children, including their sons Fingolfin and Finarfin...
[cut back to Aragorn & Eldarion]
Eldarion: [sighs] I suppose his father preferred his new family to his eldest son?
Aragorn: On the contary, Fëanor was ever foremost in his father’s thoughts, and he had the greater share of his love, but Fëanor had no love for his half-siblings … ‘twas this breach in the House of Finwë that was the beginning of the sorrow and strife to fall on him and his heirs …
Eldarion: [looks disgruntled] If his sisters were like mine I can understand that...why do we have to bother with girls, Ada?
Aragorn: [chuckles] Give yourself a few years, son….now, you remember Melkor, who caused all that trouble for the Valar, breaking their Lamps, and corrupting the Elves? Whilst Fëanor and the craftsmen of the Noldor worked in peace and contentment, and Finwë’s other sons grew to their full stature, Melkor complete the terms of his imprisonment, having spent three ages alone in the Halls of Mandos. At length, he was brought again before the thrones of the Valar for judgement… [cut into live action]
* * * * *
MORE TO FOLLOW...
Last edited by Elentári on Thu Apr 21, 2011 11:12 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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
~Diana Cortes
NEXT INSTALMENT:
Camera Fade In on Melkor’s cell.
The room is comfortable and clean, though dark and somewhat gloomy. A bed with pillows and a thick comforter stands against one wall. One small window with diamond panes lets in light and a view of the sea outside. The floor and walls of the cell are hollowed out of the dark rock. Melkor sits at a table, covered in a plain white robe. Focus on Melkor flexing his hands. We hear footsteps approaching. Melkor glances up, smiles grimly, then deliberately relaxes and turns toward the window. When the door opens, he appears to be staring dejectedly outside. Vairë enters and steps to one side of the door. She leaves the door open.
Vairë: It is time. My Lord Mandos wishes to speak with you. [motions toward the door. Several Maiar enter, carrying the same chains that bound Melkor earlier. ] I am sorry we must bind you again, but it is only for a little while.
Melkor: [contritely] Do not trouble yourself over it. I would wear the chains always as a reminder of my errors.
The Maiar bind Melkor, taking care that the shackles do not wrinkle his robe. They lead Melkor out of the cell and walk down corridors, their footsteps echoing on the hard floor. The walls are lined with tapestries that shown the creation of Arda, the Two Lamps, etc and the past events that Melkor has been involved in. As Melkor passes he glances at the scenes, and the flicker of a smile crosses his face...Eventually they enter a dark hall, lit only by a single lamp containing the dew of Telperion, in the centre of the hall. The floor and columns are of jet and dark vapours swirl around them. Mandos is seated on a stone throne, far enough from the light for his face to be in shadow. Melkor is brought before him, and Mandos rises.
Melkor: Do you think there is a chance my brother will relent?
Mandos: [speaks gently, lays a hand on Melkor’s shoulder. ] You have proven yourself contrite during your stay, and at worst your greatest sin was one of pride and exuberance. These are easy to forgive. Look Manwë in the eye and show him your true heart, and I believe he will see your repentance.
Melkor: I do not deserve such forgiveness.
Mandos: Those who truly deserve forgiveness rarely require it, my friend. Now come. Gather your courage.
Cut to scene of Melkor being led, still bound, pass the Golden Gates of the city of Valmar to the Ring of Doom, in the shadow of the Two Trees.
Aragorn: [voiceover] Melkor looked upon the glory and the bliss of the Valar and envy was in his heart; he saw also the Elves that enjoyed the protection and prosperity of the Valar and hatred filled him. When he saw the bright gems that the Noldor had created he lusted for them; but, he hid his thoughts, and postponed his vengeance…
Cut to Ring of Doom.
At the front of the Ring in a semi-circle sit the Valar in fair and noble form. They are arrayed in their finery and seated upon ornate thrones, each carved from different materials, subtly decorated and coloured to blend almost as one with the Valar who sat upon it. Each is different but yet blends seamlessly with the others and the Ring of Doom itself. Three levels between the Thrones and the floor are filled with Elves sitting on benches or standing, silently watching. More Elves stand near the entrance. All Elves are finely dressed and glitter with jewels.
Focus on Finwë sitting with his younger sons among other Elf Lords. Finwë glances toward the door. Camera swings to Fëanor, standing near the door with other young Elves. Maedhros and Maglor stand beside him, holding his hand as they are still very young. Maglor sticks his fist in his mouth. Maedhros gently pushes his brother’s hand down then hugs his brother. One of Manwë’s heralds approaches them.
Eonwë: [gestures toward boy] Are they not too young for this?
Fëanor: They are old enough to see, and old enough not to forget. [ruffles boys’ hair ] You will remember what you see, will you?
Maedhros: [serious] Of course, Ada.
Maglor: [nods silently.]
A loud gong rings. Mandos’s Maiar enter, leading Melkor. As Melkor enters the Hall, all activity and talk stops dead and an eerie silence takes over. We hear the chains on him and hear him labouring under them. Melkor continues, stumbling a little as the chains are heavy. When he reaches the centre of the floor Melkor falls to his knees and there is a loud clink of chains hitting hard on the floor.]
Manwë: For three ages, my brother, you have been confined in the halls of Mandos. You have had time to rethink your actions. Why do you now ask for release?
Melkor: [bows head; replies in a soft voice almost a whisper pushed out with great effort.] Because I grow weary of regret without recompense. Within my cell I may do no more than mourn for the damage my arrogance caused.
[Cut to Tulkas and Oromë, sitting together. Oromë gives Tulkas a narrow eyed look. Tulkas nods silently. Cut to Manwë. He nods, glances at Varda who is beside him, and nods again.]
Manwë: And if you had your freedom?
Melkor: [raises his head a little, and seems to become filled with a kind of fervour; his eyes glaze over; as he speaks he spreads his arms in supplication…] I would do all in my power to unmake the damage my folly wrought. I would labour to remake the Earth into a paradise for the Children to enjoy in peace. [Falls forward, spreading himself face first on the floor]
Manwë: [looks at other Valar. Focus on Aulë, looking thoughtful. Yavanna, Oromë, Ulmo all shake heads. Tulkas clenches his fist on the arm of his throne.]
Varda: [leans toward Manwë] My Lord, perhaps our brother could use his talents among us for a space of time. Thus he could earn the trust of those who are not yet convinced of his contrition.
Nienna: [rises, descends to floor to stand beside Melkor. Bows to Manwë.] My lord, I would speak for the prisoner. I have watched him as he sat in my brother’s house, and I believe his heart is truly changed. What is more, his hands are skilled and his mind is yet clever and quick, though now weighted by grief and guilt. The Eldar could profit much from his knowledge. Why would you confine him any longer?
Manwë: If we gave you leave to walk in Valmar alone, what would you make of your parole?
Melkor: [still keeps his eyes averted,] I would offer all my skill to assist the Children in their endeavours… [adopts hopeful tone] I have not yet had the opportunity to work with Eru’s Firstborn. I would value the opportunity to spend time with beings of such skill and beauty. [Cut to Fëanor, who obviously believes none of this. Maedhros looks from Fëanor to Melkor, then back to Fëanor.]
Manwë: That is well said. You have long been confined, and many here did not know you before. Here is my judgement: [stands] You shall have the freedom to walk where you will in Valmar alone. Such as your skill and talent allow, you are free to use your crafts as you will for the betterment of all. [turns to Eldar] Friendship freely offered will do much to mend what needs mending most. I would ask your aid in this; that you receive our brother Melkor among you and learn what you will of him without reference to what has gone before and cannot be called back.
[Gong strikes. Maiar come to unchain Melkor. They start to help him rise but he shrugs away their assistance. He looks around as the . Valar rise and leave their thrones. For a second his eyes glitter with satisfaction. Elves also rise, with much talking. Cut to Tulkas, Ulmo and Oromë gathered near the thrones]
Oromë: This cannot be allowed! Does Manwë think that the fangs of the wolf grow less sharp through confinement?
Ulmo: [placatiingly] Peace! Those who would defend against rebellion must not themselves become rebels.
Tulkas: Do not think Melkor will go unwatched.
[Cut to Elves gathered around Melkor. Melkor makes a show of rubbing his wrists where the chains sat. Melkor’s gaze fastens on a brooch set with gems worn by an Elf lady. His eyes widen a bit.]
Melkor: [touches brooch] Never have I seen such skill. The craftsmanship nearly rivals your own beauty.
Elf Lady: [shy smile] Thank you. My lord received it in trade.
Melkor: But who was the craftsman? I must meet him.
Elf Lady: Lord Curufinwë, the eldest son of our High King Finwë. Most call him Fëanor for his fiery spirit. [Points] He stands there. [Melkor turns. Camera shift to Fëanor, who gives Melkor a contemptuous stare… Melkor’s eyes narrow. Fëanor turns his back to Melkor, lifts Maglor onto his shoulder, takes Maedhros’ hand, and walks out. Shift back to Melkor. Melkor licks his lips, and rubs his hands eagerly, then schools his face to neutrality and turns back to welcoming Elves ]
* * * * *
ONE MORE PART TO FOLLOW...
Camera Fade In on Melkor’s cell.
The room is comfortable and clean, though dark and somewhat gloomy. A bed with pillows and a thick comforter stands against one wall. One small window with diamond panes lets in light and a view of the sea outside. The floor and walls of the cell are hollowed out of the dark rock. Melkor sits at a table, covered in a plain white robe. Focus on Melkor flexing his hands. We hear footsteps approaching. Melkor glances up, smiles grimly, then deliberately relaxes and turns toward the window. When the door opens, he appears to be staring dejectedly outside. Vairë enters and steps to one side of the door. She leaves the door open.
Vairë: It is time. My Lord Mandos wishes to speak with you. [motions toward the door. Several Maiar enter, carrying the same chains that bound Melkor earlier. ] I am sorry we must bind you again, but it is only for a little while.
Melkor: [contritely] Do not trouble yourself over it. I would wear the chains always as a reminder of my errors.
The Maiar bind Melkor, taking care that the shackles do not wrinkle his robe. They lead Melkor out of the cell and walk down corridors, their footsteps echoing on the hard floor. The walls are lined with tapestries that shown the creation of Arda, the Two Lamps, etc and the past events that Melkor has been involved in. As Melkor passes he glances at the scenes, and the flicker of a smile crosses his face...Eventually they enter a dark hall, lit only by a single lamp containing the dew of Telperion, in the centre of the hall. The floor and columns are of jet and dark vapours swirl around them. Mandos is seated on a stone throne, far enough from the light for his face to be in shadow. Melkor is brought before him, and Mandos rises.
Melkor: Do you think there is a chance my brother will relent?
Mandos: [speaks gently, lays a hand on Melkor’s shoulder. ] You have proven yourself contrite during your stay, and at worst your greatest sin was one of pride and exuberance. These are easy to forgive. Look Manwë in the eye and show him your true heart, and I believe he will see your repentance.
Melkor: I do not deserve such forgiveness.
Mandos: Those who truly deserve forgiveness rarely require it, my friend. Now come. Gather your courage.
Cut to scene of Melkor being led, still bound, pass the Golden Gates of the city of Valmar to the Ring of Doom, in the shadow of the Two Trees.
Aragorn: [voiceover] Melkor looked upon the glory and the bliss of the Valar and envy was in his heart; he saw also the Elves that enjoyed the protection and prosperity of the Valar and hatred filled him. When he saw the bright gems that the Noldor had created he lusted for them; but, he hid his thoughts, and postponed his vengeance…
Cut to Ring of Doom.
At the front of the Ring in a semi-circle sit the Valar in fair and noble form. They are arrayed in their finery and seated upon ornate thrones, each carved from different materials, subtly decorated and coloured to blend almost as one with the Valar who sat upon it. Each is different but yet blends seamlessly with the others and the Ring of Doom itself. Three levels between the Thrones and the floor are filled with Elves sitting on benches or standing, silently watching. More Elves stand near the entrance. All Elves are finely dressed and glitter with jewels.
Focus on Finwë sitting with his younger sons among other Elf Lords. Finwë glances toward the door. Camera swings to Fëanor, standing near the door with other young Elves. Maedhros and Maglor stand beside him, holding his hand as they are still very young. Maglor sticks his fist in his mouth. Maedhros gently pushes his brother’s hand down then hugs his brother. One of Manwë’s heralds approaches them.
Eonwë: [gestures toward boy] Are they not too young for this?
Fëanor: They are old enough to see, and old enough not to forget. [ruffles boys’ hair ] You will remember what you see, will you?
Maedhros: [serious] Of course, Ada.
Maglor: [nods silently.]
A loud gong rings. Mandos’s Maiar enter, leading Melkor. As Melkor enters the Hall, all activity and talk stops dead and an eerie silence takes over. We hear the chains on him and hear him labouring under them. Melkor continues, stumbling a little as the chains are heavy. When he reaches the centre of the floor Melkor falls to his knees and there is a loud clink of chains hitting hard on the floor.]
Manwë: For three ages, my brother, you have been confined in the halls of Mandos. You have had time to rethink your actions. Why do you now ask for release?
Melkor: [bows head; replies in a soft voice almost a whisper pushed out with great effort.] Because I grow weary of regret without recompense. Within my cell I may do no more than mourn for the damage my arrogance caused.
[Cut to Tulkas and Oromë, sitting together. Oromë gives Tulkas a narrow eyed look. Tulkas nods silently. Cut to Manwë. He nods, glances at Varda who is beside him, and nods again.]
Manwë: And if you had your freedom?
Melkor: [raises his head a little, and seems to become filled with a kind of fervour; his eyes glaze over; as he speaks he spreads his arms in supplication…] I would do all in my power to unmake the damage my folly wrought. I would labour to remake the Earth into a paradise for the Children to enjoy in peace. [Falls forward, spreading himself face first on the floor]
Manwë: [looks at other Valar. Focus on Aulë, looking thoughtful. Yavanna, Oromë, Ulmo all shake heads. Tulkas clenches his fist on the arm of his throne.]
Varda: [leans toward Manwë] My Lord, perhaps our brother could use his talents among us for a space of time. Thus he could earn the trust of those who are not yet convinced of his contrition.
Nienna: [rises, descends to floor to stand beside Melkor. Bows to Manwë.] My lord, I would speak for the prisoner. I have watched him as he sat in my brother’s house, and I believe his heart is truly changed. What is more, his hands are skilled and his mind is yet clever and quick, though now weighted by grief and guilt. The Eldar could profit much from his knowledge. Why would you confine him any longer?
Manwë: If we gave you leave to walk in Valmar alone, what would you make of your parole?
Melkor: [still keeps his eyes averted,] I would offer all my skill to assist the Children in their endeavours… [adopts hopeful tone] I have not yet had the opportunity to work with Eru’s Firstborn. I would value the opportunity to spend time with beings of such skill and beauty. [Cut to Fëanor, who obviously believes none of this. Maedhros looks from Fëanor to Melkor, then back to Fëanor.]
Manwë: That is well said. You have long been confined, and many here did not know you before. Here is my judgement: [stands] You shall have the freedom to walk where you will in Valmar alone. Such as your skill and talent allow, you are free to use your crafts as you will for the betterment of all. [turns to Eldar] Friendship freely offered will do much to mend what needs mending most. I would ask your aid in this; that you receive our brother Melkor among you and learn what you will of him without reference to what has gone before and cannot be called back.
[Gong strikes. Maiar come to unchain Melkor. They start to help him rise but he shrugs away their assistance. He looks around as the . Valar rise and leave their thrones. For a second his eyes glitter with satisfaction. Elves also rise, with much talking. Cut to Tulkas, Ulmo and Oromë gathered near the thrones]
Oromë: This cannot be allowed! Does Manwë think that the fangs of the wolf grow less sharp through confinement?
Ulmo: [placatiingly] Peace! Those who would defend against rebellion must not themselves become rebels.
Tulkas: Do not think Melkor will go unwatched.
[Cut to Elves gathered around Melkor. Melkor makes a show of rubbing his wrists where the chains sat. Melkor’s gaze fastens on a brooch set with gems worn by an Elf lady. His eyes widen a bit.]
Melkor: [touches brooch] Never have I seen such skill. The craftsmanship nearly rivals your own beauty.
Elf Lady: [shy smile] Thank you. My lord received it in trade.
Melkor: But who was the craftsman? I must meet him.
Elf Lady: Lord Curufinwë, the eldest son of our High King Finwë. Most call him Fëanor for his fiery spirit. [Points] He stands there. [Melkor turns. Camera shift to Fëanor, who gives Melkor a contemptuous stare… Melkor’s eyes narrow. Fëanor turns his back to Melkor, lifts Maglor onto his shoulder, takes Maedhros’ hand, and walks out. Shift back to Melkor. Melkor licks his lips, and rubs his hands eagerly, then schools his face to neutrality and turns back to welcoming Elves ]
* * * * *
ONE MORE PART 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
~Diana Cortes
LAST PART:
We see some brief clips, without dialogue, of Melkor's rehabilitation, talking and working with various families in and around Valmar, with shots of the architecture, landscape and majestic beauty of the city which is far beyond anything ever seen so far.
Cut to a beautiful sunny day in the Great Square ... a group of Elves gather and are talking together ... Melkor approaches....
Melkor: a fine greeting to you all on this most wondrous of days
Elf 1: and to you, Melkor... it is a beautiful day
Melkor: The Elves should be glad the Valar summoned them back here to live with them so that they can enjoy Aman in all its glory
Elf 2: We are thankful... but "summoned" would not be the word we use.
Melkor: Of course not, but the Valar did ask you and you did come. Do you ever miss the lands you were born into?
Elf 3: There are times we like to recall the beauty of all that land and open spaces... the crash of the seas on the shore ... the mountains ... Aman is beautiful but our old lands sometimes call out for us.
Melkor: and what about your kinfolk that you left behind who did not make the journey... you miss them as well?
Elf 1: at times, yes, we miss them at times... perhaps some day ...
Melkor: But we all have the Valar to thank for the Elves being here in Aman to enjoy life with them in their fine halls and cities. Being divided from your kinfolk is a very small price to pay for being here with the Valar. Nothing gained is without a small loss.
[As Melkor departs the other Elves begin to look at each other and draw closer to each other talking in lowered voices....Cut.]
* * *
Cut to a scene of Melkor approaching Fëanor. Elves are working together to create a screen for trailing vines. Fëanor is sculpting a mould for silver swans to decorate the screen. Melkor approaches.
Melkor: That is fine work.
Fëanor: [ignores him]
Melkor: I would show you a way to make these silver birds seem alive.
Fëanor: These are swans, not jail crows. [picks up mould and walks off. Melkor stares after him, clenching his fists in anger. Cut.]
* * *
Cut to a scene of Fëanor sitting at an upper window, overlooking the walls of the city, with a view of the Two Trees. Below him he observes Melkor hustling his rumours around the Great Square. He is lost in thought. Nerdanel enters the room
Nerdanel: There you are! You have been so quiet I thought you were out with Maedhros… [crosses to her husband, who puts out his arm and pulls her close to him. She nestles down against his chest.] What is troubling you, my Love?
Fëanor: Nothing….it is just Him again! [gesticulates down towards the crowd in the Square.]
Nerdanel: Oh, you mean Melkor? Why, what has he done now to upset you?
Fëanor: It seems he has been going behind my back telling others of our clan that he has been teaching me in secret, and helping me to perfect my skills – ME! Can you believe it? I need no help from any fallen Valar! I will be the greatest craftsman to ever walk in Valinor on my own merit and hard work…
Nerdanel: I do not doubt it, my Love – you are driven by the fire of your own heart, and are master of your own path… [soothes his brow]
Fëanor: Yes! and I know just the thing that will bring me the renown I seek. You see the Two Trees yonder, the Glory of our Blessed Realm? I have a plan to make gems that will capture the light of the trees and preserve it for ever!
Nerdanel: Such a feat would truly be celebrated down the ages if you were to succeed. Have you an idea how you might accomplish this?
Fëanor: Not yet…but this thought has been consuming me day and night since it came to me and I fear I will need to summon all the lore and power and skill that I possess in this task.
Nerdanel: If anyone can do this, it will be you…
Fëanor: [smiles at her] With your love and support anything will be possible [kisses her ardently. Camera fade]
* * *
Fade into scene in Great Square of Melkor instructing and talking to a group of Elves who are enthralled. Maybe he does some tricks for the children…
Cut to a shot of Fëanor working away in his forge/workshop, glancing angrily across the Square at Melkor. We see him wiping sweat from his brow as he labours over some crystals whilst the other Elves fawn over Melkor's every word. Melkor notices Fëanor’s activity and concentration but pretends not to be interested, although he tries to find out what he is up to, and the other Elves are full of rumours about the magnificent task Fëanor is attempting.
We intercut a succession of contrasting scenes of Fëanor working on the gems, perfecting them, pouring himself into his great creation, and Melkor pouring himself into destroying those he hates by spreading his lies and stirring dissension among the Elves, conjuring visions in their hearts of the mighty realms they could have ruled at their own will, in power and freedom in the East; whispering that the Valar have brought the Elves to Aman because they fear that the beauty and power given to the Elves by Eru will grow too great for the Valar to govern, and so that Men will rule Middle-earth instead of them. We see the Noldor gossiping amongst themselves, passing on Melkor’s lies, maybe elaborating on them.
Cut to scene in his workshop – a Eureka moment, where Fëanor finally accomplishes his task: a blinding light starts in the centre of the screen and fills it so that the entire theatre turns into daylight. Fëanor throws himself to the ground covering his eyes from the glare. The light diminishes gradually and he rises- and we see the silmarili in all their glory through his eyes...
Fëanor: Yes! [holds one of the jewels aloft in his hand – the camera pans around the Silmaril, showing the radiance and inner fire of the jewel. Nerdanel and his sons come running and all exclaim over his works.]
Nerdanel: [awestruck] You have done it! These are not mere glittering crystals - they seem alive with light!
Maglor: Father, they are incredible - the fire within them burns fiercely and the brilliance is amazing!
Caranthir: See how they rejoice in light! They receive it and gave it back in hues more marvellous than before! Father, you have truly outdone even Aulë this time!
Fëanor: I am spent... [he is utterly exhausted, and seems a little diminished, as if part of his spirit has gone into the making of the jewels…]
Maedhros: Father, wait till everyone sees these - your reputation is assured for ever - even the Valar must bow down in the face of your mighty talent!
Nerdanel: [softly, in awe] These jewels are surely sacred, since they contain the light of the blessed Trees. Let us take them before the Valar for their Blessing. [The others nod in agreement, Fëanor seems strangely reluctant for the public exposure of his work...Fade.]
* * *
Fade into scene at Máhanaxar, the Ring of Doom.
The Valar and their attending Maiar are seated on their thrones as before. The atmosphere is charged with excitement, and crowds of Elves are jostling for a chance to catch a glimpse of the jewels. Flushed with his triumph, Fëanor enters the Ring, carrying the Silmarils in an ornate silver casket. He stops before Manwë and bows low.
Manwë: Curufinwë Fëanáro, esteemed eldest son and heir of Finwë, High-King of the Noldor, word has reached us of your remarkable feat. Grant us the honour of seeing for ourselves the miracle you have accomplished.
Melkor: [mockingly] Yes, let us all see these “glittering jewels”, these masterful gems you have made!
[Fëanor opens the casket slowly, and as the lid rises, a blazing light leaps out, filling the arena with dazzling beams of starlight, yet shot with every hue and colour imaginable. There is a collective gasp from the Elves and Valar alike. Melkor swallows hard, and looks like his legs might give way beneath him.]
Yavanna: Truly, the light of the Two Trees lives in these jewels – incredible!
Fëanor: They are made of a substance which I invented myself – like the crystals of diamonds, yet stronger than adamant. No violence can mar or break it in this world – I have named it “silima”, hence these great jewels shall be known as the Silmarils! I bring them before you, Mighty Ones, for your Blessing. [bows again]
Varda: Mighty Eru, I call down your Blessing on these jewels and I declare them sacred in your name. No mortal flesh, nor hands unclean, nor anything of evil will may touch them without being scorched and withered.
Manwë All who dwell in Aman are filled with wonder and delight at your work, Fëanor, and your efforts have pleased us mightily… [there is a sudden deathly hush . Manwë looks across at Mandos who has risen] Yes Brother?
Mandos: [solemnly proclaims] I prophesy… that the fates of Arda, earth, sea and air, lie locked within these three jewels…[turns suddenly to face Fëanor, lowering his voice] and to you I say Beware! for your heart is fast bound to these things above all else… [Fëanor looks at Mandos, but cannot hold his gaze and he looks away again.]
Manwë stands and the other Valar follow suit. Eonwë and some other Maiar start the dispersal of the crowds, who file out slowly, still captivated by the light of the Silmarils. Melkor hovers till the last few Elves are exiting, and approaches Fëanor, hoping for a closer a look.
Fëanor is himself absorbed thought as he stares down at his treasures. As Melkor’s shadow falls across the casket he is roused from his reverie. He looks up and sees the hunger and lust in Melkor’s face. Scowling, Fëanor snaps shut the lid of the casket and stalks away. Melkor is left staring after him, the memory of the Silmaril’s radiance a gnawing fire in his heart…Fade
END OF EPISODE
*************************************************************
We see some brief clips, without dialogue, of Melkor's rehabilitation, talking and working with various families in and around Valmar, with shots of the architecture, landscape and majestic beauty of the city which is far beyond anything ever seen so far.
Cut to a beautiful sunny day in the Great Square ... a group of Elves gather and are talking together ... Melkor approaches....
Melkor: a fine greeting to you all on this most wondrous of days
Elf 1: and to you, Melkor... it is a beautiful day
Melkor: The Elves should be glad the Valar summoned them back here to live with them so that they can enjoy Aman in all its glory
Elf 2: We are thankful... but "summoned" would not be the word we use.
Melkor: Of course not, but the Valar did ask you and you did come. Do you ever miss the lands you were born into?
Elf 3: There are times we like to recall the beauty of all that land and open spaces... the crash of the seas on the shore ... the mountains ... Aman is beautiful but our old lands sometimes call out for us.
Melkor: and what about your kinfolk that you left behind who did not make the journey... you miss them as well?
Elf 1: at times, yes, we miss them at times... perhaps some day ...
Melkor: But we all have the Valar to thank for the Elves being here in Aman to enjoy life with them in their fine halls and cities. Being divided from your kinfolk is a very small price to pay for being here with the Valar. Nothing gained is without a small loss.
[As Melkor departs the other Elves begin to look at each other and draw closer to each other talking in lowered voices....Cut.]
* * *
Cut to a scene of Melkor approaching Fëanor. Elves are working together to create a screen for trailing vines. Fëanor is sculpting a mould for silver swans to decorate the screen. Melkor approaches.
Melkor: That is fine work.
Fëanor: [ignores him]
Melkor: I would show you a way to make these silver birds seem alive.
Fëanor: These are swans, not jail crows. [picks up mould and walks off. Melkor stares after him, clenching his fists in anger. Cut.]
* * *
Cut to a scene of Fëanor sitting at an upper window, overlooking the walls of the city, with a view of the Two Trees. Below him he observes Melkor hustling his rumours around the Great Square. He is lost in thought. Nerdanel enters the room
Nerdanel: There you are! You have been so quiet I thought you were out with Maedhros… [crosses to her husband, who puts out his arm and pulls her close to him. She nestles down against his chest.] What is troubling you, my Love?
Fëanor: Nothing….it is just Him again! [gesticulates down towards the crowd in the Square.]
Nerdanel: Oh, you mean Melkor? Why, what has he done now to upset you?
Fëanor: It seems he has been going behind my back telling others of our clan that he has been teaching me in secret, and helping me to perfect my skills – ME! Can you believe it? I need no help from any fallen Valar! I will be the greatest craftsman to ever walk in Valinor on my own merit and hard work…
Nerdanel: I do not doubt it, my Love – you are driven by the fire of your own heart, and are master of your own path… [soothes his brow]
Fëanor: Yes! and I know just the thing that will bring me the renown I seek. You see the Two Trees yonder, the Glory of our Blessed Realm? I have a plan to make gems that will capture the light of the trees and preserve it for ever!
Nerdanel: Such a feat would truly be celebrated down the ages if you were to succeed. Have you an idea how you might accomplish this?
Fëanor: Not yet…but this thought has been consuming me day and night since it came to me and I fear I will need to summon all the lore and power and skill that I possess in this task.
Nerdanel: If anyone can do this, it will be you…
Fëanor: [smiles at her] With your love and support anything will be possible [kisses her ardently. Camera fade]
* * *
Fade into scene in Great Square of Melkor instructing and talking to a group of Elves who are enthralled. Maybe he does some tricks for the children…
Cut to a shot of Fëanor working away in his forge/workshop, glancing angrily across the Square at Melkor. We see him wiping sweat from his brow as he labours over some crystals whilst the other Elves fawn over Melkor's every word. Melkor notices Fëanor’s activity and concentration but pretends not to be interested, although he tries to find out what he is up to, and the other Elves are full of rumours about the magnificent task Fëanor is attempting.
We intercut a succession of contrasting scenes of Fëanor working on the gems, perfecting them, pouring himself into his great creation, and Melkor pouring himself into destroying those he hates by spreading his lies and stirring dissension among the Elves, conjuring visions in their hearts of the mighty realms they could have ruled at their own will, in power and freedom in the East; whispering that the Valar have brought the Elves to Aman because they fear that the beauty and power given to the Elves by Eru will grow too great for the Valar to govern, and so that Men will rule Middle-earth instead of them. We see the Noldor gossiping amongst themselves, passing on Melkor’s lies, maybe elaborating on them.
Cut to scene in his workshop – a Eureka moment, where Fëanor finally accomplishes his task: a blinding light starts in the centre of the screen and fills it so that the entire theatre turns into daylight. Fëanor throws himself to the ground covering his eyes from the glare. The light diminishes gradually and he rises- and we see the silmarili in all their glory through his eyes...
Fëanor: Yes! [holds one of the jewels aloft in his hand – the camera pans around the Silmaril, showing the radiance and inner fire of the jewel. Nerdanel and his sons come running and all exclaim over his works.]
Nerdanel: [awestruck] You have done it! These are not mere glittering crystals - they seem alive with light!
Maglor: Father, they are incredible - the fire within them burns fiercely and the brilliance is amazing!
Caranthir: See how they rejoice in light! They receive it and gave it back in hues more marvellous than before! Father, you have truly outdone even Aulë this time!
Fëanor: I am spent... [he is utterly exhausted, and seems a little diminished, as if part of his spirit has gone into the making of the jewels…]
Maedhros: Father, wait till everyone sees these - your reputation is assured for ever - even the Valar must bow down in the face of your mighty talent!
Nerdanel: [softly, in awe] These jewels are surely sacred, since they contain the light of the blessed Trees. Let us take them before the Valar for their Blessing. [The others nod in agreement, Fëanor seems strangely reluctant for the public exposure of his work...Fade.]
* * *
Fade into scene at Máhanaxar, the Ring of Doom.
The Valar and their attending Maiar are seated on their thrones as before. The atmosphere is charged with excitement, and crowds of Elves are jostling for a chance to catch a glimpse of the jewels. Flushed with his triumph, Fëanor enters the Ring, carrying the Silmarils in an ornate silver casket. He stops before Manwë and bows low.
Manwë: Curufinwë Fëanáro, esteemed eldest son and heir of Finwë, High-King of the Noldor, word has reached us of your remarkable feat. Grant us the honour of seeing for ourselves the miracle you have accomplished.
Melkor: [mockingly] Yes, let us all see these “glittering jewels”, these masterful gems you have made!
[Fëanor opens the casket slowly, and as the lid rises, a blazing light leaps out, filling the arena with dazzling beams of starlight, yet shot with every hue and colour imaginable. There is a collective gasp from the Elves and Valar alike. Melkor swallows hard, and looks like his legs might give way beneath him.]
Yavanna: Truly, the light of the Two Trees lives in these jewels – incredible!
Fëanor: They are made of a substance which I invented myself – like the crystals of diamonds, yet stronger than adamant. No violence can mar or break it in this world – I have named it “silima”, hence these great jewels shall be known as the Silmarils! I bring them before you, Mighty Ones, for your Blessing. [bows again]
Varda: Mighty Eru, I call down your Blessing on these jewels and I declare them sacred in your name. No mortal flesh, nor hands unclean, nor anything of evil will may touch them without being scorched and withered.
Manwë All who dwell in Aman are filled with wonder and delight at your work, Fëanor, and your efforts have pleased us mightily… [there is a sudden deathly hush . Manwë looks across at Mandos who has risen] Yes Brother?
Mandos: [solemnly proclaims] I prophesy… that the fates of Arda, earth, sea and air, lie locked within these three jewels…[turns suddenly to face Fëanor, lowering his voice] and to you I say Beware! for your heart is fast bound to these things above all else… [Fëanor looks at Mandos, but cannot hold his gaze and he looks away again.]
Manwë stands and the other Valar follow suit. Eonwë and some other Maiar start the dispersal of the crowds, who file out slowly, still captivated by the light of the Silmarils. Melkor hovers till the last few Elves are exiting, and approaches Fëanor, hoping for a closer a look.
Fëanor is himself absorbed thought as he stares down at his treasures. As Melkor’s shadow falls across the casket he is roused from his reverie. He looks up and sees the hunger and lust in Melkor’s face. Scowling, Fëanor snaps shut the lid of the casket and stalks away. Melkor is left staring after him, the memory of the Silmaril’s radiance a gnawing fire in his heart…Fade
END OF EPISODE
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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
~Diana Cortes
