The Book of Lost Tales 2. Christopher Tolkien
any life of perfect joy that I dismiss you, for such may no longer be found in all the world where sits Melko of the evil heart—and know ye that ye will become mortal even as Men, and when ye fare hither again it will be for ever, unless the Gods summon you indeed to Valinor.” Nonetheless those twain departed hand in hand, and they fared together through the northern woods, and oftentimes were they seen dancing magic dances down the hills, and their name became heard far and wide.’
And thereat that boy ceased, and Vëannë said: ‘Aye, and they did more than dance, for their deeds afterward were very great, and many tales are there thereof that thou must hear, O Eriol Melinon, upon another time of tale-telling. For those twain it is that stories name i·Cuilwarthon, which is to say the dead that live again, and they became mighty fairies in the lands about the north of Sirion. Behold now all is ended—and doth it like thee?’ But Eriol said: ‘Indeed ’tis a wondrous tale, such as I looked not to hear from the lips of the little maids of Mar Vanwa Tyaliéva,’ but Vëannë answered him: ‘Nay, but I fashioned it not with words of myself; but it is dear to me—and indeed all the children know of the deeds that it relates—and I have learned it by heart, reading it in the great books, and I do not comprehend all that is set therein.’
‘Neither do I,’ said Eriol—but suddenly cried Ausir: ‘Behold, Eriol, Vëannë has never told thee what befell Huan; nor how he would take no rewards from Tinwelint nor dwell nigh him, but wandered forth again grieving for Tinúviel and Beren. On a time he fell in with Mablung15 who aided in the chase, and was now fallen much to hunting in lonely parts; and the twain hunted together as friends until the days of Glorund the Drake and of Túrin Turambar, when once more Huan found Beren and played his part in the great deeds of the Nauglafring, the Necklace of the Dwarves.’
‘Nay, how could I tell all this,’ said Vëannë, ‘for behold it is time for the evening meat already’ and soon after the great gong rang.
The second version of the Tale of Tinúviel
As already mentioned (p. 3), there exists a revised version of part of the tale in a typescript (made by my father). This follows the manuscript version closely or very closely on the whole, and in no way alters the style or air of the former; it is therefore unnecessary to give this second version in extenso. But the typescript does in places introduce interesting changes, and these are given below (the pages of the corresponding passages in the manuscript version are given in the margin).
The title in the typescript (which begins with the Link passage already given, pp. 4–7) was originally ‘The Tale of Tynwfiel, Princess of Dor Athro’, which was changed to ‘The Tale of Tinúviel, the Dancer of Doriath’.
(8) ‘Who then was Tinúviel?’ said Eriol. ‘Knowst thou not,’ said Ausir, ‘she was the daughter of Singoldo, king of Artanor?’ ‘Hush thee, Ausir,’ said Vëannë, ‘this is my tale, and ’tis a tale of the Gnomes, wherefore I beg that thou fill not Eriol’s ear with thy Elfin names. Lo! I will tell this tale only, for did I not see Melian and Tinúviel once long ago with my own eyes when journeying by the Way of Dreams?’
‘What then was Queen Melian like,’ quoth Eriol, ‘if thou hast seen her, O Vëannë?’
‘Slender and very dark of hair,’ said she, ‘and her skin was white and pale, but her eyes shone seeming to hold great depths. Clad she was in filmy garments most lovely yet of the hue of night, jet-spangled and girt with silver. If ever she sang or if ever she danced, dreams and slumbers passed over the heads of those that were nigh, making them heavy as it were with a strong wine of sleep. Indeed she was a sprite that, escaping from Lórien’s gardens before even Kôr was built, wandered in the wild places of the world and in every lonely wood. Nightingales fared with her singing about her as she went—and ’twas the song of these birds that smote the ears of Thingol as he marched at the head of that second16 tribe of the Eldalië which afterward became the Shoreland Pipers, the Solosimpi of the Isle. Now had they come a great way from dim Palisor, and wearily the companies laboured behind the swift-footed horse of Oromë, wherefore the music of the magic birds of Melian seemed to him full of all solace, more beautiful than other melodies of Earth, and he strayed aside for a moment, as he thought, from the host, seeking in the dark trees whence it might come.
And it is said that it was not a moment that he hearkened, but many years, and vainly his people sought him, until at length they must perforce follow Oromë upon Tol Eressëa, and be borne thereon far away leaving him listening to the birds enchanted in the woods of Aryador. That was the first sorrow of the Solosimpi, that after were many; but Ilúvatar in memory of Thingol set a seed of music in the hearts of that folk above all kindreds of the Earth save only the Gods, and after, as all story tells, it blossomed wondrously upon the isle and in glorious Valinor.
Little sorrow, however, had Thingol; for after a little, as him seemed, he came upon Melian lying on a bed of leaves…
(9) Long thereafter, as now thou knowest, Melko brake once more into the world from Valinor, and wellnigh all beings therein came under his foul thraldom; nor were the Lost Elves free, nor the errant Gnomes that wandered the mountainous places seeking their stolen treasury. Yet some few there were that led by mighty kings still defied that evil one in fast and hidden places, and if Turgon King of Gondolin was the most glorious of these, for a while the most mighty and the longest free was Thingol of the Woods.
Now in the after-days of Sunshine and Moonsheen still dwelt Thingol in Artanor and ruled a numerous and hardy folk drawn from all the tribes of ancient Elfinesse—for neither he nor his people went to the dread Battle of Unnumbered Tears—a matter which toucheth not this tale. Yet was his lordship greatly increased after that most bitter field by fugitives seeking a leader and a home. Hidden was his dwelling thereafter from the vision and knowledge of Melko by the cunning magics of Melian the fay, and she wove spells about all the paths that led thereto, so that none but the children of the Eldalië might tread them without straying. Thus was the king guarded against all evils save treachery alone; his halls were builded in a deep cavern, vaulted immeasurable, that knew no other entrance than a rocky door, mighty, pillared with stone, and shadowed by the loftiest and most ancient trees in all the shaggy forests of Artanor. A great stream was there that fared a dark and silent course in the deep woods, and this flowed wide and swift before that doorway, so that all who would enter that portal must first cross a bridge hung by the Noldoli of Thingol’s service across that water—and narrow it was and strongly guarded. In no wise ill were those forest lands, although not utterly distant were the Iron Mountains and black Hisilómë beyond them where dwelt the strange race of Men, and thrall-Noldoli laboured, and few free-Eldar went.
Two children had Thingol then, Dairon and Tinúviel…
(10) ‘her mother was a fay, a child of Lórien’ for manuscript ‘her mother was a fay, a daughter of the Gods’.
(11) ‘Now Beren was a Gnome, son of Egnor the forester’ as in manuscript; but Egnor changed to Barahir. This however was a much later and as it were casual change; Beren’s father was still Egnor in 1925.
(11) Manuscript version ‘and all the Elves of the woodland thought of the Gnomes