[Luthien_ Tinuviel]

The party was almost over, and Luthien still hadn't paid her respects to the Barrow-wight! She had spent most of her time by the food tables, talking to people she knew and some she didn't. But what with great volumes of good food and socialization, she had certainly honored her hobbit tendencies. Now, if she could only make it over to the Party Tree....

Pushing her way through the crowds and deciding to ignore the fact that there seemed to be quite a lot of orcs about, Luthien arrived at the tree, and looked at the ominous hole in the ground, made even more ominous by the half-light. Not wishing to place a spike in the tree, even though she knew it wouldn't really do any harm, Luthien got some tape out of her satchel, and drew forth her poem. She surveyed her work proudly.

Dear Wight, it said, Although this may seem strange,
The Downs is not wholly lost nor wholly changed.
Much growth it has seen, but is not de-throned,
And keeps the status of greatness that it owns.
Wraiths, all the members, their refracted Light
through whom is splintered from a single White
to many posts, and endlessly combined
in living shapes that move from mind to mind.
Though all the crannies of the Web we filled
with Elves and Goblins, though we dared to build
Winged Balrogs and their chasms out of dark and light,
and sowed the seed of dragons - 'twas our right
(used or misused). That right has not decayed:
we post still by the law in which we're made.

And now for the gift! Once more dodging orcs, and the mayhem they had caused, Luthien strolled over to the tables covered with mathoms and gifts of all kinds. It really wasn't very far to go at all, but the darkness made it more so. Upon an empty spot on one of the many tables Luthien gently and lovingly placed a dagger. It was one of her favorites, and the Barrow-downs forum was one of her favorite sites. It was only fitting. Luthien fervently hoped that the Wight would find some good use for it, maybe place it in the cold hands of one of his victims. Having given up her knife in offering to the creator of much joy, she quickly turned about and began to search for her friends. Surely they were somewhere in this throng, and she must spend at least some time with them before the party came to a close. She was the one who had made them come in the first place. She lifted her eyes to the sky to gaze upon the glorious fireworks. Their bursts of light would surely help her find her way - wouldn't they?