Beren admires the architecture and decorations as they walk, especially around Luthien's rooms, expressing some curiosity about the dwarves who crafted the halls. 

Her father takes long enough to summon her that they've gotten washed and had time to settle into a discussion about the city's creation and history. 

The guard who delivers the summons looks vaguely like she'd really prefer this be someone else's job, and she cautions Luthien that her father's in a poor mood.

She sighs and thanks the guard. They'll be along presently.

"Really, try not to get in a fight," she says as she stands.

"I'll leave any fights to you," she says with a grin, standing as well. "Give you some practice."

"Elu Thingol can be... vindictive. He banned even the language of the kinslayers when we received word of their deeds."

She rolls her eyes a bit. "A petty kind of vindictiveness, then."

"I'll be polite."

Nod.

Off they go.

Luthien's father is on his throne, his court clearly in session. Her mother is physically present as well, though her gaze is distant in a way that suggests she's currently tending to something far off - foresight, or the many magics protecting and aiding Doriath, or the like. 

Elu Thingol does not look at all happy. "Luthien," he says. "It warms my heart to see you again. Who is your guest?"

"Father," she says, curtsying. "Your welcome is a joy to the spirit."

"This is Beren daughter of Barahir, traveler and orc-slayer, scion of Beor."

Beren bows. "Your halls are lovely," she says, "And your lands peaceful. A tribute to their king, and a balm for a weary soul."

He frowns at her. 

And, to Luthien: "No mortal is permitted in these lands."

She lifts her chin. "It was my understanding Mother had permitted an exception."

Melian's gaze turns briefly to the physical world. "I did not perceive her crossing, and my Girdle was not disturbed."

There's uneasy murnurs from the court - some remarking under their breath, but not quietly enough, that not even insects can slip beneath Melian's notice. 

And Melian's gaze drifts away again. 

"She is not a threat."

"And how can you know this? The Enemy seeks ever to undo us, and her agents are many and subtle."

"And living only in fear brings her victory that much closer."

"It is not fear but wisdom that guides me. You have seen nothing of the Enemy."

"And I still have not."

"All my efforts are so that you will not."

"She cannot be allowed to wander our lands, nor to bring what she has seen out," he says, voice soft and almost dangerous.

"She will stay with me."

"You cannot guarantee she will not escape you," Thingol says. 

And Darion, a minstrel who has sometimes tried to court Luthien, softly suggests Beren should be executed in punishment for trespassing.

Thingol frowns, and - "Imprisoned, certainly."

"No! You can't."

"My will is law here."

She grabs Beren's hand.

"...You can't imprison my fiancee."

She'd been frowning, eyes focused intently on Thingol -

And her hand clenches around Luthien's, her gaze flicking briefly over, eyes wide.