Luthien watches until she disappears from sight.

And Luthien is somewhat gently chided toward - not her rooms, but somewhere higher in Menegroth, one of the carefully hidden gardens where a large tree grows. No Man or Elf could use it as an entrance, of course, and even birds would struggle to make their ways through the grates - but it lets in true sunlight. There's a set of rooms perched high in the tree's branches, a place for quiet contemplation or long projects, and Luthien is directed to go up into it. The only entrance or exit is a rope ladder, as the tree is too tall and too far from anything else to jump safely out of it.

In fact she was rather looking forward to sleeping in her own bed tonight, rather than this tree.

Her father believes her rooms are not currently well enough secured.

Perhaps the dungeons would be more appropriate, then. Shall she present her wrists for the manacles?

That is hardly necessary. The project rooms are much more comfortable and befitting her status.

Her status as what, a child of twenty? If that is so, then she shall share her parents' rooms again. Surely those are considered quite secure.

...Please go into the project rooms. The guard would rather not have to bring Luthien's father here.

Luthien would rather the guard did that, actually. He can do her the courtesy of looking her in the eye before locking the cage.

The guard stiffly sends another to fetch King Thingol.

She takes a breath and apologizes for raising her voice. The guard is of course not at fault here.

The guard sighs. "I understand your frustration," she says, softly. "More than frustration, even. But I cannot gainsay your father."

"Of course not. I should have requested this from the start."

She nods. "I apologize, for what it's worth."

And Thingol sweeps in shortly after, his expression thunderous. 

"Father. Will you explain why you have decided to deny me even the freedom of Menegroth?"

"That mortal has ensnared you. I will not have you blindly following her to your doom."

"When have you known me to blindly follow anything?"

"Exactly. Your behavior is strange of late; I hardly recognized the daughter who stood before me."

"Consider perhaps that the daughter who stood before you had, with her own stores of wisdom and probity, judged the path she embarked upon and found it to be her true wish."

"You understand nothing of the world outside. Nothing of where that path leads."

"And I never will, if you continue to refuse even the possibility that I might capable of learning."

"It is a terrible knowledge. I would not see you come to such harm."

"And no thought for the harm that comes of keeping me here."

"Your infatuation with this mortal will pass, daughter, as she must. She will die in a scant few decades - perhaps one or two hundredths of the entire life you have lived - even if none slay her, for that is the nature of the Second Born. What will come of you then, if you grew to truly love her, if you have bound your soul to her - if you even could, for no immortal has ever wed one such as her."

"That is my choice to make, and my burden to bear, should it come to pass. But the caged nightingale sings only the sorrow of its bars, until death passes it beyond their claim."