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In Wizard's Isle still lay forgot, enmeshed and tortured in that grot cold, evil, doorless, without light, and blank-eyed stared at endless night two comrades. Now alone they were. The others lived no more, but bare their broken bones would lie and tell how ten had served their master well.
To Felagund then Beren said: ' 'Twere little loss if I were dead, and I am minded all to tell, and thus, perchance, from this dark hell thy life to loose. I set thee free from thine old oath, for more for me hast thou endured than e'er was earned.'
'A! Beren, Beren hast not learned that promises of Morgoth's folk are frail as breath. From this dark yoke of pain shall neither ever go, whether he learn our names or no, with Thu's consent. Nay more, I think yet deeper of torment we should drink, knew he that son of Barahir and Felagund were captive here, and even worse if he should know the dreadful errand we did go.'
A devil's laugh they ringing heard within their pit. 'True, true the word I hear you speak,' a voice then said. ' 'Twere little loss if he were dead, the outlaw mortal. But the king, the Elf undying, many a thing no man could suffer may endure. Perchance, when what these walls immure of dreadful anguish thy folk learn, their king to ransom they will yearn with gold and gem and high hearts cowed; or maybe Celegorm the proud will deem a rival's prison cheap, and crown and gold himself will keep. Perchance, the errand I shall know, ere all is done, that ye did go. The wolf is hungry, the hour is nigh; no more need Beren wait to die.'
The slow time passed. Then in the gloom two eyes there glowed. He saw his doom, Beren, silent, as his bonds he strained beyond his mortal might enchained. Lo! sudden there was rending sound of chains that parted and unwound,

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of meshes broken. Forth there leaped upon the wolvish thing that crept in shadow faithful Felagund, careless of fang or venomed wound. There in the dark they wrestled slow, remorseless, snarling, to and fro, teeth in flesh, gripe on throat, fingers locked in shaggy coat, spurning Beren who there lying heard the werewolf gasping, dying. Then a voice he heard: 'Farewell! On earth I need no longer dwell, friend and comrade, Beren bold. My heart is burst, my limbs are cold. Here all my power I have spent to break my bonds, and dreadful rent of poisoned teeth is in my breast. I now must go to my long rest in Aman, there beyond the shore of Eldamar for ever more in memory to dwell.' Thus died the king, as still the elven harpers sing.
There Beren lies. His grief no tear, his despair no horror has nor fear, waiting for footsteps, a voice, for doom. Silences profounder than the tomb of long-forgotten kings, neath years and sands uncounted laid on biers and buried everlasting-deep, slow and unbroken round him creep.
The silences were sudden shivered to silver fragments. Faint there quivered a voice in song that walls of rock, enchanted hill, and bar and lock, and powers of darkness pierced with light. He felt about him the soft night of many stars, and in the air were rustlings and a perfume rare; the nightingales were in the trees, slim fingers flute and viol seize beneath the moon, and one more fair than all there be or ever were upon a lonely knoll of stone in shimmering raiment danced alone. Then in his dream it seemed he sang, and loud and fierce his chanting rang, old songs of battle in the North, of breathless deeds, of marching forth to dare uncounted odds and break great powers, and towers, and strong walls shake; and over all the silver fire that once Men named the Burning Briar, the Seven Stars that Varda set about the North, were burning yet, a light in darkness, hope in woe, the emblem vast of Morgoth's foe.

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'Huan, Huan! I hear a song far under welling, far but strong; a song that Beren bore aloft. I hear his voice, I have heard if oft in dream and wandering.' Whispering low thus Lúthien spake. On the bridge of woe in mantle wrapped at dead of night she sat and sang, and to its height and to its depth the Wizard's Isle, rock upon rock and pile on pile, trembling echoed. The werewolves howled, and Huan hidden lay and growled watchful listening in the dark, waiting for battle cruel and stark.
Thu heard that voice, and sudden stood wrapped in his cloak and sable hood in his high tower. He listened long, and smiled, and knew that elvish song. 'A! little Lúthien! What brought the foolish fly to web unsought? Morgoth! a great and rich reward to me thou wilt owe when to thy hoard this jewel is added.' Down he went, and forth his messengers he sent.
Still Lúthien sang. A creeping shape with bloodred tongue and jaws agape stole on the bridge; but she sang on with trembling limbs and wide eyes wan. The creeping shape leaped to her side, and gasped, and sudden fell and died. And still they came, still one by one, and each was seized, and there were none returned with padding feet to tell that a shadow lurketh fierce and fell at the bridge's end, and that below the shuddering waters loathing flow o'er the grey corpses Huan killed. A mightier shadow slowly filled the narrow bridge, a slavering hate, an awful werewolf fierce and great: pale Draugluin, the old grey lord of wolves and beasts of blood abhorred, that fed on flesh of Man and Elf beneath the chair of Thu himself.
No more in silence did they fight. Howling and baying smote the night, till back by the chair where he had fed to die the werewolf yammering fled. 'Huan is there' he gasped and died, and Thu was filled with wrath and pride. 'Before the mightiest he shall fall, before the mightiest wolf of all', so thought he now, and thought he knew how fate long spoken should come true.

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Now there came slowly forth and glared into the night a shape long-haired, dank with poison, with awful eyes wolvish, ravenous; but there lies a light therein more cruel and dread than ever wolvish eyes had fed. More huge were its limbs, its jaws more wide, its fangs more gleaming-sharp, and dyed with venom, torment, and with death. The deadly vapour of its breath swept on before it. Swooning dies the song of Lúthien, and her eyes are dimmed and darkened with a fear, cold and poisonous and drear.
Thus came Thu, as wolf more great than e'er was seen from Angband's gate to the burning south, than ever lurked in mortal lands or murder worked. Sudden he sprang, and Huan leaped aside in shadow. On he swept to Lúthien lying swooning faint. To her drowning senses came the taint of his foul breathing, and she stirred; dizzily she spake a whispered word, her mantle brushed across his face. He stumbled staggering in his pace. Out leaped Huan. Back he sprang. Beneath the stars there shuddering rang the cry of hunting wolves at bay, the tongue of hounds that fearless slay. Backward and forth they leaped and ran feinting to flee, and round they span, and bit and grappled, and fell and rose. Then suddenly Huan holds and throws his ghastly foe; his throat he rends, choking his life. Not so it ends. From shape to shape, from wolf to worm, from monster to his own demon form, Thu changes, but that desperate grip he cannot shake, nor from it slip. No wizardry, nor spell, nor dart, no fang, nor venom, nor devil's art could harm that hound that hart and boar had hunted once in Valinor.
Nigh the foul spirit Morgoth made and bred of evil shuddering strayed from its dark house, when Lúthien rose and shivering looked upon his throes.
'O demon dark, O phantom vile of foulness wrought, of lies and guile, here shalt thou die, thy spirit roam quaking back to thy master's home his scorn and fury to endure; thee he will in the bowels immure of groaning earth, and in a hole everlastingly thy naked soul

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shall wail and gibber – this shall be, unless the keys thou render me of thy black fortress, and the spell that bindeth stone to stone thou tell, and speak the words of opening.'
With gasping breath and shuddering he spake, and yielded as he must, and vanquished betrayed his master's trust.
Lo! by the bridge a gleam of light, like stars descended from the night to burn and tremble here below. There wide her arms did Lúthien throw, and called aloud with voice as clear as still at whiles may mortal hear long elvish trumpets o'er the hill echo, when all the world is still. The dawn peered over mountains wan, their grey heads silent looked thereon. The hill trembled; the citadel crumbled, and all its towers fell; the rocks yawned and the bridge broke, and Sirion spumed in sudden smoke. Like ghosts the owls were flying seen hooting in the dawn, and bats unclean went skimming dark through the cold airs shrieking thinly to find new lairs in Deadly Nightshade's branches dread. The wolves whimpering and yammering fled like dusky shadows. Out there creep pale forms and ragged as from sleep, crawling, and shielding blinded eyes: the captives in fear and in surprise from dolour long in clinging night beyond all hope set free to light.
A vampire shape with pinions vast screeching leaped from the ground, and passed, its dark blood dripping on the trees; and Huan neath him lifeless sees a wolvish corpse – for Thu had flown to Taur-nu-Fuin, a new throne and darker stronghold there to build. The captives came and wept and shrilled their piteous cries of thanks and praise. But Lúthien anxious-gazing stays. Beren comes not. At length she said: 'Huan, Huan, among the dead must we then find him whom we sought, for love of whom we toiled and fought?' Then side by side from stone to stone o'er Sirion they climbed. Alone unmoving they him found, who mourned by Felagund, and never turned to see what feet drew halting nigh. 'A! Beren, Beren!' came her cry,

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'almost too late have I thee found? Alas! that here upon the ground the noblest of the noble race in vain thy anguish doth embrace! Alas! in tears that we should meet who once found meeting passing sweet!'
Her voice such love and longing filled he raised his eyes, his mourning stilled, and felt his heart new-turned to flame for her that through peril to him came.
'O Lúthien, O Lúthien, more fair than any child of Men, O loveliest maid of Elfinesse, what might of love did thee possess to bring thee here to terror's lair! O lissom limbs and shadowy hair, O flower-entwined brows so white, O slender hands in this new light!'
She found his arms and swooned away just at the rising of the day.