Carantilion was about to renege on his vow not to sing when
Tanni and Rhys struck up their own song. Cir was fair minded enough to acknowledge they played and sang well enough but his finely formed aquiline nose was slightly put out of joint. If the mortals did not refrain from sad songs why should he and while Tanni and her brother received the applause of the gathering he hissed at his own sibling that they better do something before Dick decided they weren't worth their keep.
He touched the harp strings again and though it was a smaller and more rustic instrument than he was used to its chords now reverberated in the common room and pride overcame Carantilion's doubts about his voice in it's adult register. Its tenor suited the plangent melody perfectly and his accompaniment was swelled by harmonies provided by his sister.
O Gil-galad i Edhelchír
dim linnar i thelegain:
Im Belegaer a Hithaeglir
Aran ardh vethed vain a lain.
Gariel maegech Gil-galad,
Thôl palan-gennen, ann-vegil;
A giliath arnoediad
Tann thann dîn be genedril.
Dan io-anann os si gwannant
A mas, ú-bedir ithronath;
An gîl dîn na-dúath di-dhant,
vi Mordor, ennas caeda gwath