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Post by Maeglin on Dec 12, 2005 11:41:35 GMT -5
Point out suggested cuts and or changes to the Lay of Leithian script here. We will proceed scene by scene; more-or-less finished products will be transferred to the neat Leithian edited scenes thread.
To start off:
PROLOGUE
(We see the closing stages of the Battle of Sudden Flame. The forces of good, Men and Elves, are outnumbered, and their battleline is splitting up; leaders retreat in different directions. Numberless orcs pursue them; Balrogs and maybe Glaurung are visible in the distance.)
FINROD: Back! Back! We must go south.
MOUNTED ELF: Lord King, your brothers Aegnor and Angrod are slain.
FINROD: May Mandos be kind to them; now we are concerned with saving ourselves. Back! To the Fen of Serech! (He sheds a single tear as he rides back.)
(Finrod and his much diminished army of Elves retreat onto marshy terrain, but not swiftly enough. Orcs swarm around them. There is no escape.)
EDAIN RIDERS: BARAHIR!
(A troop of human horsemen, shouting their chieftain's name, charge into the Orcs, who scatter and flee, many slain as they run.)
BARAHIR: King Felagund. It would seem I arrived not a moment too soon. Come, let's get out of this plain of death.
(Cut to Finrod and Barahir alone in Finrod's hall.)
FINROD: (formal) This day you have saved my life. I swear that if I may repay this debt in any way, I shall, with friendship unto death to you, your son and your son's sons. Take this ring in token of my oath.
(Finrod hands over the serpent ring.)
BARAHIR: King Felagund, it is nothing-nothing. My people still tell tales of the days when you came and sang at our campfires in my grandfather's time; the first among the Elves that we Men had seen...
(Flash to Felagund strumming at a harp before a fire, around which many Edain are hunched. We return to Finrod and Barahir. Both are close to tears with emotion.)
BARAHIR: You seemed a lord of wisdom; one of the Valar come out of the west. And you gave us land to settle from your own domains. You were kind, and did not laugh at us, did not call us sickly or weak, as other princes did...
(Flash to Caranthir looking at Haleth with condescension, laughing scornfully. We return to Finrod and Barahir.)
BARAHIR: You accepted us as brothers, nay, as children, and held us to your heart. It was my duty to save you, nothing more.
FINROD: (smiling) Nevertheless, take the ring; and should anything befall you, I will hold to my oath.
(Cut to Doriath, Thingol's Caves-an anteroom in Menegroth.)
THINGOL: The Battle of the Sudden Flame has stricken all Elvendom to the quick. In this I pity the Noldor, kinslayers though they be. They say the High King Fingolfin has been killed fighting Morgoth himself. Bitterly have the Noldor paid for the rape of the swan-ships. Beleg-double the guard on the marches.
BELEG: Aye, my lord.
THINGOL: Oh, and Daeron...have you seen my daughter?
DAERON: No doubt she wanders the woods. I shall seek her.
(We cut to Luthien alone in a glade, singing, as the title LAY OF LEITHIAN, or Luthien if we prefer, comes up.)
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Post by Huinesoron on Dec 13, 2005 9:22:14 GMT -5
PROLOGUE
(Wide opening shot over Ard-Galen as seen from the Ered Wethrin. We see the closing stages of the Battle of Sudden Flame. The forces of good, Men and Elves, are outnumbered, and their battleline is splitting up; leaders retreat in different directions. Numberless orcs pursue them; Balrogs and maybe Glaurung are visible in the distance. Pan/zoom down from the mountains to the pass of Sirion, where Finrod and a diminished army - which includes all the Ten from later, and Orodreth (and possibly Celegorm and Curufin, or did they come later?) are seen fighting off a small group of orcs. As we reach them, Finrod slays the last one and then looks to the North at the howling host heading towards him)
FINROD: Sound the retreat! We must go south!
(Trumpets sound desperately, and the elves begin to ride to the south. Edrahil rides up beside Finrod)
EDRAHIL: King Finrod, your brothers Aegnor and Angrod are slain.
FINROD: (closes his eyes to hold back the tears) May Mandos be kind to them; now we are concerned with saving ourselves. (He turns to the host at large) Back! To the Fen of Serech!
(Finrod and his much diminished army of Elves retreat onto marshy terrain, but not swiftly enough. Orcs swarm around them. There is no escape as the orcs close in. Suddenly:)
EDAIN RIDERS: BARAHIR!
(Sound of primitive horns, and a troop of human horsemen, shouting their chieftain's name, charge into the Orcs, who scatter and flee, many slain as they run. The leader comes to a halt beside Finrod and gives a nod)
BARAHIR: King Felagund. It would seem I arrived not a moment too soon. Come, let's get away from this plain of death.
(Cut to Finrod and Barahir alone in Finrod's hall.)
FINROD: (formal) This day you have saved my life. I swear that if I may repay this debt in any way, I shall, with friendship unto death to you, your son and your son's sons. Take this ring in token of my oath.
(Finrod hands over the serpent ring.)
BARAHIR: King Felagund, it is nothing, nothing. My people still tell tales of the night you came and sang at our campfires in my forefather Bëor's time; the first among the Elves of the West that we Men had seen...
(Flash to Felagund strumming at a harp before a fire at night, around which many Edain are hunched. We return to Finrod and Barahir. Both are close to tears with emotion.)
BARAHIR: You seemed a lord of wisdom; one of the Valar come out of the West. And you gave us land to settle from your own domains. You were kind, and did not laugh at us, did not call us sickly or weak, as other princes did...
(Flash to Caranthir looking at Haleth with condescension, laughing scornfully. We return to Finrod and Barahir.)
BARAHIR: You accepted us as brothers, nay, as children, and held us to your heart. It was my duty to save you, nothing more.
FINROD: (smiling) Nevertheless, take the ring, and should you have need, know that friendship no less than duty will bind me to aid you.
(Cut to Doriath, Thingol's Caves-an anteroom in Menegroth. Thingol is pacing back and forth while Beleg and Daeron look on)
THINGOL: The Battle of the Sudden Flame has stricken all Elvendom to the quick. In this I pity the Noldor, kinslayers though they be. They say the High King Fingolfin has been killed fighting Morgoth himself. Bitterly have the Noldor paid for the rape of the swan-ships, and bitter shall their lot be from here on. Morgoth will not sit idly after this victory. Beleg - double the guard on the marches.
BELEG: Aye, my lord. (He bows quickly and walks out)
THINGOL: Oh, and Daeron... have you seen my daughter?
DAERON: No doubt she wanders the woods. I shall seek her.
(We cut to Luthien alone in a glade, singing, as the title LAY OF LUTHIEN comes up.)
~
A range of edits, some to introduce characters or names - using Edrahil as the mounted elf, or having him say King Finrod - some to enhance or clarify the visuals, and some - 'the first of Elves' to 'Elves of the West' - to clarify the story. Very few pieces have been lengthened, although I added a couple of lines to Thingol's speech to Beleg to make sense of his order to Beleg. And an edit of 'grandfather' to 'forefather Bëor', because I'm not sure where 'grandfather' came from.
As usual, if I've misinterpreted something, feel free to change it back.
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Post by Maeglin on Dec 13, 2005 9:40:00 GMT -5
That's excellent. One thing-Orodreth, Celegorm and Curufin weren't there. At that point Orodreth was being assailed by Sauron at Minas Tirith, I think, and escaped due to the intervention of the brothers, retreating from the ruin of their own realm. Then they all strolled back to Nargothrond and had tea.
So I'll edit them out. Also, we may have to cut the Caranthir flashback later.
General note: on average, each scene has been allowed slightly more than three minutes.
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Post by Huinesoron on Dec 13, 2005 15:43:01 GMT -5
Oh, right. I wasn't sure where they were. -- wait, Orodreth can't have been under attack at Minas Tirith, that's /behind/ the line Finrod was defending... isn't it? I thought it was... inward of the Pass of Sirion... um?
-- he was probably over in the east anyway, though.
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Post by Maeglin on Dec 14, 2005 4:27:18 GMT -5
I'm pretty sure he was at Minas Tirith. The line of the Noldor was by now in complete chaos, after all...
Here are the next two scenes.
SCENE 1
(Daeron enters the glade. Luthien is still singing; perhaps the hymn to Elbereth; and does not notice him.)
DAERON: Ah...
(Luthien turns, startled, stopping her singing.)
DAERON: Nay, do not stop for me, my lady. I could listen to you until the unmaking of the world. Yet your voice is a grief to me...it shows me the weakness of my own.
LUTHIEN: What nonsense, Master Minstrel. Everyone knows that your songs are greater even than those of Maglor, son of Feanor. Give me a sample of your latest work.
DAERON: (strumming his harp) Oh, she went lightly, so lightly, in beauty, a beauty that outshone all Elbereth's stars...
LUTHIEN: (teasing, chiding) Another love song. To which lady is this one composed?
DAERON: (blushing) I've...only ever written them for one lady, madam.
LUTHIEN: (sympathetic) Daeron, you can tell me. We've been friends from the cradle.
DAERON: They're...they're all for you, Luthien, fairest creature of all Ea.
(Awkward silence)
LUTHIEN: Daeron, you do me far too much honour. Come, we must away to my father.
SCENE 2
(Cut to a band of twelve men-Barahir, Beren and their outlaws-running for cover as arrows fly and sheltering in a ruined farmhouse. Beren, seen here for the first time, is taller than his father, strong and handsome.)
BARAHIR: How many did we lose this time?
DAGNIR: Furin was cut down by the Orcs...
HATHALDIR: And Nalir went back to help him. He's probably down too.
BARAHIR: Young fool. What about Gorlim?
BEREN: He ran back to protect his house, father. You know Eiliniel wouldn't leave Dorthonion? He feared for her...
(Gorlim rushes in, a big man wielding an axe, with unkempt black hair and beard.)
GORLIM: (sobs) It's too late...gone...the Orcs came...burnt...couldn't find her.
BARAHIR: (sternly) Be thankful that you live to avenge her. So how many are we all?
GILDOR: Thirteen...
(A silence falls.)
BEREN: Father, how can we defend Dorthonion with only thirteen men? Let us flee to Dor-Lomin while we survive. There is no hope for our land.
BARAHIR: (taking his hand) My son, if you alone survived with a sword in your hand, ready to fight Morgoth unto death itself, there would still be hope. (To the outlaws) Onward. We must find a safer refuge.
These two are pretty quick, but cutting is always useful nevertheless.
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Post by Huinesoron on Dec 15, 2005 11:51:24 GMT -5
Um. I'm afraid my edit went and lengthened them. Well, see what you think.
~
SCENE 1
(Daeron enters the glade. Luthien is still singing - perhaps the hymn to Elbereth - and does not notice him.)
DAERON: (softly) Ah...
(Luthien turns, startled, stopping her singing.)
DAERON: No, do not stop, my lady. I could listen to you until the unmaking of the world. Yet your voice... your voice is a grief to me, for it shows me the weakness of my own.
LUTHIEN: What nonsense, Master Minstrel. All Beleriand knows that your songs are greater even than those of Maglor, son of Feanor (both elves scowl slightly at the name of Feanor, but Luthien smiles again after a moment) Come, give me a sample of your latest work.
DAERON: (thinks for a moment, and then strums his harp) Oh, she went lightly, so lightly, in beauty, a beauty that outshone all Elbereth's stars...
LUTHIEN: (teasing, chiding) Another love song, Daeron? To which lady is this one composed?
DAERON: (blushing) I've... only ever written them for one lady, Princess.
LUTHIEN: (sympathetic, but slightly impatient) Go on, you can tell me. We've been friends from the cradle.
DAERON: They... they're all for you, Luthien, fairest of all the Children of Iluvatar.
(Awkward silence)
LUTHIEN: (softly) Daeron... (she shakes her head) You do me far too much honour. Come, we must away to my father.
(She runs off - almost fleeing - and Daeron follows, shaking his head)
SCENE 2
(Cut to a band of twelve men - Barahir, Beren and their outlaws - running for cover as arrows fly. They shelter in a ruined farmhouse. Beren, seen here for the first time, is taller than his father, strong and handsome. One of the outlaws - Belegund - peers back over the wall, on guard)
BARAHIR: How many did we lose this time?
DAGNIR: Furin was cut down by the Orcs...
HATHALDIR: And Nalir went back to help him. He's probably down too.
BARAHIR: Young fool. (He glances around) What about Gorlim?
BEREN: He ran back to protect his house, father. You know Eiliniel wouldn't leave Dorthonion? He feared for her...
BARAHIR: Then he is-
BELEGUND: Ware!
(The Outlaws all assume defensive positions - very quickly, with no fumbling - but Gorlim rushes in, a big man wielding an axe, with unkempt black hair and beard.)
BARAHIR: Gorlim, you-
(Gorlim throws his head back, his hair flying back from his face to reveal tears running freely)
GORLIM: (sobs) It's too late... gone... the Orcs came... burnt... couldn't find her!
(Barahir reaches out as if to touch Gorlim's shoulder, but instead hits it. Gorlim looks at him, startled)
BARAHIR: (sternly) Be thankful that you live to avenge her, man. (He hold's the other's gaze for a moment, until Gorlim looks down) So, how many are we now?
GILDOR: Thirteen...
(A silence falls.)
BEREN: Father, how can we defend Dorthonion from the Dark Lord's host with only thirteen men? The orcs strike nightly, and the Lord of Wolves is ever on our tails. Let us flee to Dor-Lomin while we survive. There is no hope for our land.
BARAHIR: Do you think I do not know the peril we are in? (He sighs and takes Beren's hand) My son, if you alone survived with a sword in your hand, ready to fight Morgoth unto death itself, there would still be hope for this realm. (Beren nods, and Barahir looks at the outlaws) Onward. We must find a safer refuge.
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