Setting:
Rivendell � Year 2933 of the Third Age
Costuming:
Something that would allow for individual freedom, and expressions, but yet inspired by surrounding nature, especially the trees which seemed to be loved so much; free in that individual movement was allowed and clothing was not designed to restrict any type of movement, but encourage it
Something not overly flattering, but yet suggestive of his power as an Elven lord, at the same time down-to-earth and suggesting that he is also one of the Free Peoples, and would never consider himself above the rest; can communicate freely and without fear
Probably didn�t like jewelry much, thinking it much too �arrogant� although Tolkien does recall him having certain jewels strung about his head in some Elvish way; did wear one of the Three, Vilya, bestowed to him by Lord Gil-galad before the Last Battle of the Last Alliance, as well as probably a wedding band, or whatever Elves had to symbolize their union with another
Stage: (Minimal requirements) A simple writing desk and chair as though in a private room; stage left
Characters:
This is a monologue, but during all parts, Elrond will appear to be �communicating� with others who are not �there.� Hence, all surreal characters are listed in italics.
Elrond Half-Elven � Lord of Rivendell
Celebrain � Wife of Elrond, Across the Sea
Lindir � Elvish Minstrel of Rivendell
Gilraen � Wife of Arathorn II, mother of Aragorn II
Synopsis: In a letter to his wife in the Grey Havens, Elrond confides in her of the uncertainties now facing Middle Earth and his part in the coming conflicts. Lindir and Gilraen bring tidings of the growing Shadow, as well as the last heir of Isildur to Rivendell, seemingly part of an endless puzzle spelled out by the stars.
Note of Part Division: To be preformed as a single entirety, without pause between first and second parts; to appear as though were merged. Delay may be taken between parts two and three, however, to the discretion of performer�s interpretations of the text.
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Part One � Letter to Celebrian
Lighting: Performance opens with the lighting of a single spotlight on performer; giving appearance of sharing �private thoughts�
Characters:
Elrond Half-Elven (Delivering monologue) � Lord of Rivendell
Celebrain � Wife of Elrond, Across the Sea
{Enter Elrond, sitting at table, first looking heavenwards, as though for a sign, but then looking down and begins to write a letter} [Fondly, with a sigh] It has been little more than four centuries since you have fulfilled our sea-longing, Celebrian, crossing to the Grey Havens, so far across the sea, and I find myself reluctant to say this, but I must. [Regretfully] It is not possible for me to cross out of Rivendell, for it will soon come to a time of dire need. [With a sigh, exhausted mentally] If only I could set this all behind me and sail across the western seas to the Havens as you have already done, to leave Middle Earth and its troubles behind. But I find that I cannot. [Hesitates before continuing] With every passing day, more of our people are making the crossing, and before this next Age has elapsed, you have my word that I shall be there. [Dryly] Time. Oh what does it mean to us? Nothing but a useless concept of the mortals. [Laughs bitterly]
[Ever so gently] The familiar sun-dappled corridors of Rivendell are quiet now, an errie silence, broken only by the soft steps of an Elven lord, or the heavier footfalls of a visiting hobbit. [With deep sorrow] No longer is this home brightened with the laughter and music of a still present, but ever fading race; our time here, is passing. [Suddenly forcefully brightening] Silent, that is, save for the water, falling now in loud and taunting splashes. Can you hear it now? [Pausing, as though waiting for her to reply] Once crisp and vitalizing, almost forgotten, but always present in our lives? [So bitterly] That is no longer. The Bruinen flows as strongly as ever, from the mountains, through the valley, and towards the Sea. [Assuring] Across which I will pass, when the time is right.
[Continuing on another note, firmly] Still, all of the tidings I send are not ill, and there is good left in the world you have long lost any interest in. Forever clinging onto the last fragments of a glorious summer, the Last Homely Home of our people still stands strong upon its foundations, and many pass through on their westerly journeys. [Concerned, wonderingly] From the tidings of these travelers, it would seem that there is unrest in the East. Perhaps a receding of the light.
[Ruefully, bland and informatively] Thus, far, the stars have been kind to us, and our children are well, but their Choice remains yet to be made. Both Elladan and Elrohir have departed from Rivendell, and headed northward and shall scour the Wilds with the Rangers, driving the Shadow into the light. Still dwelling in Lorien, our daughter has decided to remain amongst your kindred with my approval. [Adding] The Passes are not yet safe for a crossing into Rivendell, especially after the [hesitates, choking] incident upon Redhorn Pass.
[With a small, but sad sigh] Ah, but that is about all there is to tell, and the sound of our home without any of our children still remains cold and foreign to my ears. The world outside this valley, however, will soon come to another Age of war, both lesser and greater than the previous. [Fondly, filled with love] Celebrian, you have never cared much for these things, the affairs of Men. But once we leave these shores, who is to remain? The disappearing Dwarfs, hobbits and whom else? [Slightly spiteful] Men. [With a bit of humor] None of our concern, though. [With hesitation] Although for some reason � {Elrond sets the pen down, looking up from letter, surprised at the interruption}
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Part Two � Arrival of Gilraen
Lighting: Spotlight off; light entire stage, as though performer is now �open� to the rest of the audience
Characters:
Elrond Half-Elven (still delivering monologue) � Lord of Rivendell
Lindir � Elrond�s Elvish minstrel
Gilraen the Fair � Wife of Arathorn II; mother of Aragorn II
{Enter Lindir} [Loudly, to audience] Yes? What is it, Lindir? [Slightly annoyed] I thought you were practicing that ballad for the feast tonight. [Pause of reply; surprised] Someone requesting an audience with ME? [Shocked] Immediately? [Stating obvious] Well, why couldn�t they wait . . . [Suddenly; angered by response] Who do they think they are? [Softer, surprised] Gilraen? [An echo] Wife of Arathorn? [Almost roared] You could have said so sooner! [Grumbles angrily] That�s why you�re just the minstrel, I dare not to think what Rivendell would be like if you were its lord. [Growls] Show her into the study. [With a sigh] Apologies will do absolutely no one any good. [As though defeated] Just go practice that ballad, Lindir. I expect it to be perfect this time. [Sighs] Understand? {Exit Lindir} [Muttered, shaking head] Darn waste of a satisfactory pair of pointy ears, never good for anything but verse . . .
{Elrond stands, as though about to leave, cross from stage left to right, and back again, as though approaching study} [Questioning, curiosity building] But Gilraen the Fair? Here? Unannounced? [Reasoning to himself] That could hardly be what to expect . . . [With a small chuckle] Ah, but believing that all that happened around here was expected would have cost me Rivendell by now. [Suddenly growling] Lindir had better not be imagining things again. [Reminiscing angrily] Last time, after a goblet of wine too many, claimed to see none other than Sauron tapping on the gates. [Frustrated] Darn that minstrel. Must demote him next time I get a spare moment. [Sighs heavily] Now I shall see the truth . . . or perhaps not. {Return to stage left} [Surprised] Why is that study so dark? Draperies must have been pulled down again, [grumbles] honestly, how does Lindir receive my guests? {Elrond �enters� study, makes motion as though opening doors wide}
{Enter Gilraen and Elrond} [To audience, as though Gilraen; friendly, warm] Welcome to Rivendell, Wife of Arathorn � [Surprised, drops voice suddenly] Oh! [Puzzled] Why to you ask me to lower my voice? [Concerned, slightly hurried] What is the matter? And why do you look at me in that way, as though I were a hunter? [Loudly, reassuring] Come now, there is nothing in Rivendell that will harm you. [Firmly] Evil does not come into this valley. Now, once again, what is the matter? [Alert, questioning] Trouble? For whom? [Suddenly slightly afraid] You? Arathorn? Myself? {Gilraen falls to her knees, Elrond makes a move to help her up} [Still surprised, baffled] No, please rise! [Echoing, doubting] You can not tell me? [As though offended] But of course I shall help you! [Firmly] There is no need to thank me. [Slightly relieved, gently] A refuge for all sorts, that is what Rivendell is. Stay for as long as you wish to.
[Surprised, again] A complication? What type of complication? [Interrupting, increasingly agitated] Are you injured? No? Not only yourself? [Very confused] Arathorn? Aragorn?! Of whom do you speak? Your son? Arathorn has a son? Really? [With a sigh, settling himself into chair] No, wife of my dear friend, this is not the time for your tale. [Calls out loudly; to audience] Lindir! {Enter Lindir} [Impatiently] Yes, I know you have been practicing that ballad! That is not what I wish. [After a moment�s thought] Prepare apartments for Gilraen, perhaps Arwen�s. For a long stay. [Quelling Gilraen�s concern] I�m sure she would be honored to have you. [To Lindir, loudly] Have the finest food and drink brought up as soon as you can, something warm. [Firmly, almost as though scolding] And after that, back to the ballad. [Dismissive] You can go, Lindir. {Exit Lindir}
[Turns to Gilraen; firmly, slightly wary] I must insist that you rest, and perhaps the next morning shall be a better time for your tale. [Pauses for her reply, but continues in a more insistent tone] As I possess some skill in the art of healing, I must suggest that rest would be the best treatment for you. I shall question you no further, but if you insist . . . [Large sigh, pauses for her interruption; suddenly wary, patient]Yes, Arathorn was returning from the Wilds, from some sort of military exercise or another, I have heard of that. [Surprise, almost rising from chair] An ambush? [So surprised, slipping to Elvish] Yrch? [Baffled] Pardon, orcs? [Angrily, ventures into own thoughts] That Redhorn Pass! After Celebrian�s experiences . . . [With a deep sigh; suddenly stressed] So many great lives have been ended by arms of those foul creatures . . .
[Surprised and sorrowed] Oh, have I but known! My dear, I can express no words in the Common Tongue to sooth your hurt, but, alas . . . [Another sigh] Yes, I see what you mean. [Firmly, straightening to attention] The Enemy is rising. The Shadow is spreading. Your son would be in danger. Do not worry, I shall do all within my power to keep that evil from this valley in which you are both welcome to stay. [Repeats, as though Gilraen is doubting] For as long as you wish. [Hesitates, continues] Still, the East troubles me, as does the Shadow. [As though quelling any doubts] I shall think of something . . .
{Enter Lindir bearing platters of food} [To the audience, loudly, approvingly] Ah! Lindir, you have returned! [With a sudden fury; each nearly spat] Mutton?! Cheese?! Bread?! Ale?! [Extremely disgusted] What were you thinking, you wooly-headed poor excuse of an Elf? [Roaring] There had to be something better in our pantries than this! A light snack . . . ?! [Growls] Back to that ballad with you! {Exit Lindir, quickly handing platters to Elrond who settles them on the desk} [Softly to her] I must apologize for the behavior of my minstrel. [Grumbles] Probably dropped on the head when he was an infant. [Cheerfully, if a bit more happily] There will be a feast tonight, as soon as Lord Glorfindel arrives with his hunting party.
[Encouragingly to her, motioning to the food] Eat, my dear, you look famished. [Pausing, impressed] Ah, you are famished. There is more where that came from. You will be well looked after here, [Slight sigh] I will see to it myself. [Insistent, firm] It is no trouble. None at all. [Confiding] My own children are grown, but I know that you and Arathorn would have done the same for them, if I had been slain. [Pausing, as though slightly offended] Letting you stay? In fact, I can and will do better than that. [Welcoming, with a forced smile] Alas, the halls of Rivendell have gone too long without the laughter and innocence of a child! I would like the son of Arathorn to dwell here with me, as my foster son and I swear I shall treat him as though my own. [Pauses briefly, flabbergasted] That is, with your permission, of course. [Honestly cheerful] Oh! That is good, then that is settled. [Pauses, insistent; voice suddenly flatter] Keep on eating. [Cheerful again] A bit of good rest and food does a weary soul a whole bunch of good you know. [Flatter] You�re not eating. Come on. There�s plenty more.
[Continuing, wistfully] The last Heir of Isildur, the last in a line of kings, but to be of such importance at such a tender age, could hardly be wished for. [With a small laugh] Still, I can see that he will survive many seasons and perform great deeds, winning fame, honor and glory. It is all written in the stars above. [Pauses, suddenly noticing] Don�t stop. Keep on eating. I am only thinking aloud. [Dreamily] He will rule. One day. [Laughs, hopeful] Ah, it may seem impossible now, with the Enemy intent on finding the last heir. [Insistent] But those demons of the East shall never succeed. [Calculating] His lineage will need to be forgotten. And his name. [Gasps suddenly, and then reassuringly] My dear! Do not despair! For as long as he is alive, there will be hope! [Grins] Ah, there we are. [As an echo] What a perfect name? [Firmly] �Estel,� Elven for hope. Our little Estel. [Sighs] Mmm. [Flatly, but encouragingly] Good. You�re still eating.
[Suddenly remembering] Where is he now? [Calmly, accepting] Ah, with Lindir. [Suddenly realizing, roared] With LINDIR? You trust your SON with LINDIR? [Grumbles] I wouldn�t trust him with a bent nail, much less a little boy! [Reluctantly, as she speaks] Yes, you are right. [Proudly] He will grow up with the mightiest Elven lords which have not yet passed onto the East! [With a small laugh] Yes, the finest music as well. [Looks around] Then in that case, I must find another minstrel. I�ll find something for Lindir to do. [Cheerfully, as though just noticing] Ah, picked all the meat off the bone, have you, now? [Calming a little] That fulfills the stomach, now the mind must rest.
{Enter Lindir} [To audience, cheerfully] Lindir! Ah, there you are. Please take Gilraen to her rooms, and have Estel brought to her. [Repeats] Estel. [Flatly] The little boy. [Horrified] You didn�t LOSE him, now did you? [Frustrated] Which one? The one she gave you. [Roared] No, not to KEEP. [Despairing] Oh Lindir, what am I going to do with you?! [With a pleasant chuckle, to her] No need to thank me, my dear Gilraen. It will be my pleasure to raise little Estel. [Amused murmur] Mmm. A little wild is he? [Laughs] After Arwen, I�m sure I can handle anything. [Grumble] You wouldn�t believe what a loud crier she was. [Cheerfully] Sleep well. Oh, and if you need something, just holler. [Adding] Goodnight. {Exit Gilraen and Lindir}
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Part Three � Farewell to Celebrian
Lighting: Resume spotlight; return to Part I settings, as though returning to an unfinished letter
Characters:
Elrond Half-Elven (still delivering monologue) � Lord of Rivendell
Celebrain � Wife of Elrond, Across the Sea
{Enter Elrond, sitting at desk, resuming writing letter} [Delivered as though speaking to her, but through a letter, cheerfully] Celebrian, we have another child! [Murmured happily] Dear little Estel, the hope of mankind, hidden in Rivendell. [Chuckles] I wonder what Sauron would have to say to that. [Anticipating response] Don�t be tart, my dear, Gilraen is naught but a friend. [Reassuringly] No one could take your place in my heart. [With a laugh] A child. Another. Oh, after Arwen . . . [Sighs, flabbergasted] I thought we had promised. Not our fault, particularly. [Musing] An interesting turn. And what had I been saying about Rivendell being drab? [Laughs, almost bitterly]
[Frowning in thought] Still, it is to be a child without the Choice. [Surprised] Not of the Peredhil! [Bitterly] One to have the chance to be freed of the cursed Elvish life. [Gently] Ah, I am sure you are shocked to hear me vent so, but the truth now, is it not? [Recalling fondly] When I had made my choice, immortality seemed to promise so much, and you, of course, my dear. [Deep sigh] But to live forever in a life of greater sorrows and lesser joys than Man? [Despairing] Oh, we have forsaken happiness! It is possible for us to feel joy, but only for that fraction of time. [Rueful laugh] Ah, but then again, why am I worrying about time? [Disgusted] Useless mortal concept! Useless mortals! A Man ruled Middle Earth to be read in the stars? I have never heard of such silliness. It shall never happen. [Crude laugh] What folly! {Elrond sets down pen, as though finally finished, but looks heavenward, puzzled}
Lighting: Dim for exit
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