Yet Were Its Making Good, For This by LadySternchen  

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Caged

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Mablung drummed his fingers against his thigh impatiently while he waited for Beleg to rid himself of his bow and baggage, seemingly without a care in the world. That, at least, was as it always had been. For Beleg, with his abode in the forests, far away from Menegroth and the madness that had fallen upon it lately, there was not a care in the world- at least until now, Mablung thought grimly.

He still failed to wrap his head around the events of these past months. The Girdle had been breached- that was not supposed to happen. The person doing the breaching was a Mortal- that should even less be possible, for Elu had long since made it very clear that no man had any business being within Doriath's borders. And then Lúthien had somehow fallen in love with said Girdle-breaching man, Daeron had betrayed her to a very upset Elu, who had since sent Beren to Angband to steal one of the Silmaril’s from Morgoth’s crown- and that, of all things, should certainly not have happened.

Everything that had befallen since… well, Mablung thought wryly, either this was a very bizarre dream his mind sought to mock him with, or else a considerable number of people within Menegroth had recently taken leave of their senses.

When Beleg finally seemed to be ready, Mablung seized his chance and pulled him away from the gates and onto a tree, ignoring Beleg’s faint protest.

“What… Mablung, I need to make my presence known… Mablung, stop!”

Beleg pulled his hand from Mablung’s grip, staring at him.

“Oh no, you need to hear me out first before you step before the king and queen. I need to tell you what has befallen.”

There was unease flickering in Beleg’s eyes, but Mablung did not have time to be concerned with that now. Instead, he plowed straight into the story, allowing none of Beleg’s calls of wonder or indignation to interrupt him. By the time he had ended, Beleg just looked at him in utter bewilderment. He opened his mouth a couple of times, but seemed to think better of it each time.

At last, he just asked:
“He did what, again?”

“Locked Lúthien in a treehouse.”

“Ah” was all that Beleg said, before they lapsed into silence. After a while, he asked again: “He is aware that his daughter is also Melian’s, is he not?”

“I suppose so.”

“And this is no foul jest?”

“Unfortunately not.”

Mablung watched Beleg pinch the bridge of his nose for a moment.

“Has Elu gone mad?”

“Evidence suggests as much.” Mablung answered stiffly, and there at last, a mirthless snigger escaped Beleg.

“That is no laughing matter, Beleg.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other, with the same stunned disbelief that filled all Mablung’s heart etched into Beleg’s features.

“No, in all honesty, what does he think he may gain from that? I do not know if even Melian could restrain Lúthien, so Elu does not truly think a treehouse can?”

Mablung shrugged, every last hint of amusement gone from him.

“Do not ask me. It is a matter of time only before Lúthien gets bored with playing helpless and I tell you, that will be ill for all of us. I am afraid, though, that we rather deserve it. We all played along.”

Beleg smiled a true smile now.

“Don’t be so gloomy, Mablung. It will turn out alright, and after a while, we will all be laughing about it.”

“I do not think so.” Mablung replied solemnly “Do you not see what has been done? Have you not listened to what Galadriel and Angrod have told us about the Silmarils? Elu asked Beren to get one…”

“Which is ridiculous. Nobody can ever hope to win one of those jewels back, least of al a mortal Man. Elu truly told Beren to be gone and that sooner would orcs learn to dance before he…”

“Yes.” Mablung interrupted, testily “So he did, thinking himself incredibly clever. But the fact is that he did not say what he meant. He gave Beren an option, and Beren is determined. I tell you, this will come back on us. As Elu should have known!”

For the first time since Elu had asked for the Silmaril, Mablung’s anger at the his king’s actions broke through the restraints of love and loyalty that had held it subdued. Oh, Mablung would have loved to just shake Elu back into his right mind. How could he do something so inexpressibly foolish? And Beleg, it seemed, saw the whole affair as laughable rather than dramatic.

“Do not judge him so harshly, Mablung. You know what Lúthien means to him, so you could hardly expect him to keep a cool head? You know how he gets when he feels trapped. It’s like pushing a wild beast into a corner- they will lash out and tear everything asunder without pausing to think. That is why you don’t push wild beasts into corners. Nor our dear king. 
But he will calm down, and think about what he has done, and hide in a tree himself for a while because he will be so ashamed of his own actions. And once tempers cool a little, they will talk it out, and all will be perfectly fine. But I really need to go and greet the king and queen. And maybe once I return, you will be in better spirits.”

With that, he let himself slide from the branch on which they had sat, turning only to add with a smirk:

“…although you’re adorable when you’re grumpy!”

Mablung scowled after his friend, but did not follow. He avoided being within Menegroth as much as possible at the moment, or being anywhere near Hírilorn where Lúthien was imprisoned. True, as they had discussed, the only reason why the princess still remained in that tree was because she was still biding her time, but he felt like he was betraying her nonetheless. Had he not sworn, long ago, to protect her as he protected her father? What cruel irony that the one he should protect her from now actually was her father. In this, he could be loyal but to one of them.

It hurt deeply to have them fight each other like this, and to see Melian caught up in that fight as well. Mablung remembered in all detail the moment that Elu had first introduced him to little Lúthien, and he allowed himself to escape back into this memory for a little while.

Elu walked through their camp, with his newborn daughter cradled against his chest so that her tiny head rested on his shoulder. When he spotted Mablung, he walked over to him, and so Mablung first gazed into Lúthien’s -very open- eyes; he was instantly enchanted.

“Alas…” Elu said, with a very brave attempt at a smile “…judging by your expression, I gather that she is still looking?”

“I am afraid so. But, oh Elu, she adorable.”

“I never denied that. But she is also…” he carefully picked her from his shoulder “… very much not interested in sleeping, which little elflings must do, even the most curious ones. Even half-Maiar elflings.”

Lúthien looked up into her father’s face with bright interest, waving her tiny arms around excitedly. When one of her fists touched her face, she instantly turned her mouth towards it to suckle on her fingers with passion. Mablung felt Elu tense.

“Ai Lúthien… Nana will not be happy when we tell her you are hungry again.” Elu told his daughter, then turned to Mablung  and added quietly “Melian is exhausted. She has had a hard time giving birth, and this little one has not let her sleep at all since then, and she is still in a lot of pain whenever Lúthien latches, and… oh, I hate seeing Melian like this and not be able to do anything to help. Thônwen is sitting with her now, and I had hoped carrying Lúthien around a little would perhaps get her to settle down, but I hoped in vain, it seems.”

Mablung smiled at Elu, with an unlooked-for tenderness within his heart. His feelings at the news of Lúthien’s begetting might have been marred by his own desire, his feelings now were not. The warmth and affection that welled up within him as he heard Elu talk like this about Melian left no room for any bitter feeling.

“It will be alright. I shall not claim to know much about children, but I seem to remember from when my sisters were born that it does get better after the first few days.”

Elu nodded, even as Lúthien started to protest about him not moving, or else about her empty stomach.

“Thônwen said that, too. I hope you are both right.” 

How, Mablung wondered, as the wind’s soft caress brought him back again to the here and now, could something that had started with such tenderness have come to this? To a treehouse in Hírilorn and a heart burning with the fear of loss?