The King and Queen’s daughter, Lúthien, an amiable child, had a convivial temperament which rarely evoked undesired emotions in her progenitors’ peaceable life. However, a most egregious event had now befallen: Miss Lúthien had been so recalcitrant and opprobrious to the poor desires of her parents as to fall in love! And not only fall in love, but to devise secret rendezvous in the forest with the miscreant! Her parents, uncomprehending such uncanny behaviour from their usually submissive daughter, consulted one another concerning the preceding events.
“My dear Melian, What shall we do! To think that Lúthien has chosen such an inopportune time to do such a thing! With the war and Morgoth’s forces brewing in the North! How selfish and unexpected! Oh, my poor nerves.”
“My dear Thingol, how well I understand your nerves. They have been my constant companion these eight hundred and thirteen years. But I think we need not fear for Lúthien.” This was as if to say that their daughter’s abstruseness would not intrude upon their familial felicity.
“You know, I feel she has gone mad.”
“My husband, you exaggerate.”
“I will call her to us and she will explain these circumstances for herself.”
When she came, her countenance was calm, as if nothing had troubled it for the entire span of her life. She looked curiously at her parents.
“Why, what is it, father?”
“Lúthien,” he said gently, “I have heard such rumors about your conduct to make me fear. Now, tell me: have you been meeting with someone in the woods.”
She blinked innocently. “Of course, father. Did not you know?”
Thingol, stunned by so refractory a statement given by so innocent a tongue, leaned back in his chair in surprise and stared at his daughter, wondering how so Quixotic a notion could have overturned a once stable mind without any pretense of insanity accompanying it.
“And who … who is this miscreant?”
She laughed, “My dear father, he is no miscreant. He is my fiancé.”
The poor Elf King looked with horror-laden visage at his daughter. “Your fiancé! Why – “
His wife leaned over and whispered to him, “Now, my dear, perhaps we should summon him and speak to him ourselves.”
“Very well,” he grumbled. He turned to his progeny. “Bring the villain here. We will deal with him as is fit.”
Lúthien nodded, “Yes, father,” backing away, deeming correctly that her father had no compunction for disregarding her and her fiancé’s prenuptial felicity; and aghast that so romantic a feeling should cause such discord amongst her relations.
Yes, you are correct: this satirical style is imitated from Jane Austen's work. Forgive me: I know I have not done her justice.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.