Good luck.

Away to the throne room.

Sneak sneak sneak...

The simulacrum is on the throne, of course.

"What do we have here?" she calls out, gaze piercing through the wolf-hames. "Two guilty puppies slinking around?"

"We wished only not to be interrupted before our audience."

"And what petition do you bring before me?"

"Not a petition, as much as a demonstration."

"Oh? Do tell."

Luthien steps into the middle of the room and begins dancing.

She watches, entranced.

(Mygwainor's no less enchanted.)

She starts singing the lullaby, slowly weaving it into her dance, pushing the effects at the Melkor simulacrum that is entwining her senses with Luthien so.

Her eyelids drift half closed, though she stays awake for quite some time, watching Luthien with a lazy smile. Her followers - scattered around the edges of the throne room, quiet in her presence - fall asleep before her, apparently without her noticing.

She falls asleep, eventually, a smile on her face, and her jeweled crown slips off her head, falling to the floor with a loud clang - fortunately, none of their enemies stir.

The crown's immense, to fit the simulacrum's large stature. Given its solid construction, it's likely too heavy to move, but the Silmarils seem somewhat firm in their settings.

She slowly lets her dance drift to a halt, though she keeps singing.

Over to the crown and she pulls out a knife to pry one of the gems loose.

Mygwainor had provided her with a fine knife of dwarven make (courtesy of Finrod, courtesy of a long rambling tale about some improbable friendship he struck up with a master smith...).

It's strong enough to remove the gem from its setting without too much difficulty - though Mygwainor had warned her against trying for two.

Luthien's wife is standing near the entrance to the throne room, a soft look on her face as she watches Luthien.

She smiles back as she wraps the Silmaril up.

In a soft murmur: "I think you should consider casting spells on me more often, Ellin."

"It could be good practice."

"The real reason I suggested it, of course," she teases.

"Doing things for only one reason seems a bit of a waste."

"True."

Quick kiss. 

"Come on, let's rescue the poor prisoners from Finrod."

"Before he decides to start singing as well."

"We better hurry."

Onwards, then. 

Luthien makes sure the gem is tucked safely away before they meet the others.

Finrod's gotten everyone unchained and most everyone sorted - they can probably get moving, given a clear path out.

They have that for now. They should move quickly.