Disclaimer: See chapter 1.
WARNING: Awful rhyme looming!
UNDER THE MALLORN TREE (At the End of the Third Age, Remembering Doriath)
"Cirdan’s swan ships under Varda’s stars,
A mighty weapon of molten sparks,
Beleg’s bow, Mablung’s sword,
The jewels in Elu’s hoard…
Our ladies’ beauty all surpass "
“I’d regret to learn this war has blunted your poetic abilities…”
Celeborn turned haunted eyes to his wife.
“It’s not mine, my lady. It was Daeron’s parting gift, actually, although I suspect we were too drunk then to notice.”
They’d been carefree and happy that night. Shortly after, Daeron had discovered Lúthien in the company of a mortal; change had abruptly entered Doriath.
He still remembered that song. He still missed his friend.
A/N: Cause you’ll feel the pain long after you’ve forgotten the words
Word Count: 100; Jan 2005