Beren among the Gnomes...

Let's go back to the wonderful Lay of Leithian. This ''synopsis'' of The Silmarillion has proven no such thing at all, but I do enjoy ''going on'' about Tolkien and since this is my blog, I can say what I want anyway! Let us return to the caves of Nargothrond where Felagund is Lord:

Behind closed doors, Finrod the Beloved heard in wonder the tale of Beren, and Beren wept for the loveliness of Lúthien and the cruel doom of Thingol. And so Finrod declared the doom of Beren before his people. By ill luck, Celegorm and Curufin, the sons of Fëanor, were dwelling within the realm of Finrod, for they had fled the Dagor Bragollach and had sought refuge with their cousin Finrod, and upon hearing that Beren would wrest from Morgoth a Silmaril as the brideprice of Lúthien, Celegorm arose, eyes aflame with wrath and the memory of the terrible Oath, drew his sword, and lifted his voice above the crowd:

''Be he friend or foe, or demon wild

of Morgoth, Elf, or mortal child,

or any that here on earth may dwell,

no law, nor love, nor league of hell,

no might of Gods, no binding spell,

shall him defend from hatred fell

of Fëanor's sons, whoso take or steal

or finding keep a Silmaril.

These we alone do claim by right,

our thrice enchanted jewels bright.''

Many wild and potent words he spoke,

and as before in Tûn [Túna] awoke

his father's voice their hearts to fire,

so now dark fear and brooding ire

he cast on them, foreboding war

of friend with friend; and pools of gore

their minds imagined lying red

in Nargothrond about the dead,

did Narog's host with Beren go;

or haply battle, ruin, and woe

in Doriath where great Thingol reigned,

if Fëanor's fatal jewel he gained.

And even such as were most true

to Felagund his oath did rue,

and thought with terror and despair

of seeking Morgoth in his lair

with force or guile. This Curufin

when his brother ceased did then begin

more to impress upon their minds;

and such a spell he on them binds

that never again till Túrin's day

would Gnome of Narog in array

of open battle go to war.

With secrecy, ambush, spies, and lore

of wizardry, with silent leaguer

of wild things wary, watchful, eager,

of phantom hunters, venomed darts,

and unseen stealthy creeping arts,

with padding hatred that its prey

with feet of velvet all the day

followed remorseless out of sight

and slew it unawares at night -

thus they defended Nargothrond,

and forgot their kin and solemn bond

for dread of Morgoth that the art

of Curufin set within their heart.

So would they not that angry day

King Felagund their lord obey,

but sullen murmured that Finrod

nor yet his son were as a god.

Then Felagund took off his crown

and at his feet he cast it down,

the silver helm of Nargothrond:

''Yours ye may break, but I my bond

must keep, and kingdom here forsake.

If hearts here were that did not quake,

or that to Finrod's [Finarfin's] son were true,

then I at least should find a few

to go with me, not like a poor

rejected beggar scorn endure,

turned from my gates to leave my town,

my people, and my realm and crown!''

Hearing these words there swiftly stood

beside him ten tried warriors good,

men of his house who had ever fought

wherever his banners had been brought.

One stooped and lifted up his crown,

and said: ''O king, to leave this town

is now our fate, but not to lose

thy rightful lordship. Thou shalt choose

one to be steward in thy stead.''

Then Felagund upon the head

of Orodreth set it: ''Brother mine,

till I return this crown is thine.''

Then Celegorm no more would stay,

and Curufin smiled and turned away.

(The History of Middle-earth, Volume III, The Lays of Beleriand).

The above painting is a sketch by Ted Nasmith depicting the oath of Fëanor.