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