"Uncle Frodo, what're you doing?"
"Writing, Sammie."
"I *knew* that. What're you writing about?"
"Elvish history. Beren and Luthien, currently. Would you like me to tell you about it?"
"Yes! Would this take long? Because Mama wants me to help dry dishes in half an hour, and this is much more interesting, so..."
"I don't think that even the heroes of the Elder Days could get you out of dish-drying duty, Sammie. All Beren had to do was fetch a Silmaril."
"What's a Silmaril? And who was Beren? And why did he have to get one, anyway?"
"This desk chair really isn't big enough for two people. Sammie, let's find somewhere a bit more comfortable to sit and I'll tell you."
When the two historians were comfortably situated, Frodo began, "Once there was an elf woman named Luthien Tinuviel. Her mother was Melian, and her father was King Thingol-"
"Melian and Thingol Tinuviel. Got it."
"No, Tinuviel wasn't her last name, it was a nickname. It means 'Nightingale.'"
"Melian and Thingol Not-Tinuviel, and Luthien Nightingale. Got it."
"And, going on, Luthien was the most beautiful woman in the world."
"Got it. What did she look like?"
"Lady Arwen. They're actually related, I think. It's a long story. Well, anyway, beautiful Luthien was out dancing in this forest glade because that's what elf princesses did in those days, when she ran into Beren and they fell in love."
"Was Beren an elf?"
"No, he was a Man. One of the Big People, and he'd been travelling through the wilderness, which is how they bumped into each other in the first place. Well, anyway, Luthien's dad found out, and he wasn't exactly pleased about it. So he called Beren in for a man-to-elf talk, and told him that if Beren got him a Silmaril from Morgoth he could marry Luthien if Luthien wanted to."
"Was everybody in the Elder Days this bossy?"
"I don't know. If Queen Arwen visits again I'll ask her. Maybe she learned some old family stories from Galadriel."
"Morgoth - isn't that where you had to go on your Quest? Ooh, sorry." Frodo had gotten a hint of That Look around the eyes, so Sammie gave him a quick hug and tried to think of a new topic.
"It's okay, Sammie. And that was a good question. Mordor is a country, but Morgoth was a guy. Or a spirit. Whatever he was, he was a very, very, very bad lot. A Silmaril is a kind of magical jewel that everybody fought over in those days." The whole idea seemed a bit silly to Sammie, but maybe elves got bored after a few thousand years of immortality.
Unfortunately, before Frodo could explain just what a Silmaril was good for (if anything), what sorts of adventures Beren went through to get one (if he eventually did), what sort of villainy Morgoth was up to (lots, undoubtedly), and what Luthien does about it all, they were interrupted. By Rose, no less. As the historians were dragged off to the ignonimity of dish-wiping and fresh air, Frodo gave Sammie a conspiratorial wink and whispered, "Next time, we get to the good parts."
~