We know the story of the Quest for the Silmaril from Beren and Thingol's point of view. What about his Steward?

Disclaimer: Elmo is the younger brother of Elu Thingol and Olwe, and the grandfather of Celeborn. (All writing in italics is dialogue from the Silmarillion, and I do not own it.).

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I saw him standing there, bespelled. The light in the young Mortal's eyes spoke of enchantment; the enchantment of love. He turned to my elder brother, who met his eyes with an ice-cold gaze.

"Who are you," bespoke my brother and lord, "that come hither as a thief, and unbidden dare to approach my throne?"

I watched as he stood, frozen, unable to speak, and my niece spoke instead, giving the one who had been ensnared by her beauty her support.

"He is Beren son of Barahir, lord of Men, foe of Morgoth, the tale of whose deeds is become a song even among the Elves." Her gaze pleaded with my brother's for lenience, but he would not back down.

"Let Beren speak!" he commanded. "What would you here, unhappy mortal, and for what cause have you left your own land to enter this, which is forbidden to such as you? Can you show reason why my power should not be laid on you in heavy punishment for your insolence and folly?"

I could think of reasons, Brother...stay thy hand! But alas, I am only Steward, and I have no right to speak so. Olwe would not have liked me to intervene. So I sat quietly and watched as the brash young Mortal, Beren son of Barahir, and my brother Elwe Singollo, called Thingol, discoursed together. But then, Beren asked for the hand of Luthien...the only treasure I knew my brother placed beyond price.

He demanded a price indeed...one so heavy I feared no one would be able to fulfill its condition. No doubt my brother thought so, too. Greed drove him; greed and the desire to claim what was not his.

In truth, were my brother and Beren not more alike than Elu thought? For Elu, too, had made a marriage far beyond that any of our kindred had ever made; why should he be the only to do so? Luthien spoke truly; the deeds of Barahir and of Beren his son were renowned. Why should Beren not wed her? Was he any less worthy than Elu had been of Melian? But the Silmaril...Elu had gone too far. I expected Beren to give up. But instead, Beren laughed.

"For little price do Elven-kings sell their daughters; for gems, and things made by craft. But if this be your will, Thingol, then I will perform it. And when we meet again, my hand shall hold a Silmaril from the Iron Crown; for you have not looked the last upon Beren son of Barahir."

With that, and a final look to Melian and to Luthien, he departed on his quest, leaving me filled with dread.

"What is this thou hast wrought, aran veleg lin?" I demanded once the Mortal had gone, enjoined to speak formally in public though I would fain grab my elder brother and shake him. "Thou hast wrought the doom of Doriath with thy greed!"

"Silence thy tongue, Elmo!" I fell silent.

"If the Mortal returns, he returns," Elu continued, "and if not...he does not." His gaze hardened. "But the Dark Lord is not the only one to guard his jewels well," he added, as Luthien departed. "Make ready Hirilorn, and see that Luthien does not flee."

I would do as my brother and king commanded, little though I liked it...but I could not see that this would end well, for any of us.