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Old 05-19-2020, 06:02 PM   #95
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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Join Date: Jan 2004
Posts: 704
Arry has just left Hobbiton.
“Very happy to meet you, Miz Bird!” Arry shook her offered hand firmly, a smile lighting up his face. “I’ve heard lots of grand stories from Miz Pio about her adventures with you. Glad to put a face to her travel companion.” As he finished, he realized he still held Bird’s hand and was still shaking it. A red tinge crept down his cheeks. Letting go her hand, he nodded to the three ladies and said he would be straight back with the agreed upon drinks.

The line was short, and it was just a bit later that he returned with a pitcher of ale, three fresh mugs, and one of those tall and rather dreadful looking bright green drinks – this one with any extra layer of frothy topping and some gold colored sprinkles. “Here we are, m’ladies,” he said setting the drinks on the table. He dared a wink at Angara as he positioned her glass within her easy reach. Picking up the pitcher, then, he poured a mug each for the Elf and Bird and himself.

He settled in a chair, his guitar close at hand and his rucksack tucked neatly on the floor beneath his seat. He was about to take a drink when he recalled the device Envinyatar had left for him to give to Miz Pio. “Oh, say, Miz Pio, I’ve something here that Envinyatar wanted me to give you.” Arry dipped his fingers into his vest pocket and pulled out the device, placing it flat on the table. The light from a nearby sconce seemed to infuse the crystal button on the top of the little rectangular box with a rainbow of lights. The crystal flared up and blazed for a moment.

“Envinyatar said he had to leave. And he wanted me to make his good-byes to you.” Arry shrugged his shoulders slightly. “Said he was no good at doing such. And he gave this to me, saying it was for you.” He pushed the small device toward the Elf. “He said he found it in a rocky cave along the western shores. It’s a relic from the Old Fellow’s time.” Arry pointed to the bright crystal jewel in the middle of the slender box-like object. “Just press there and you’ll hear a most amazingly wonderful thing.”

Arry smiled as Pio pressed down on the crystal. There was a small whirring noise and then a familiar voice began to tell a story.

Pio’s face lit with delight at the sound of the storyteller’s words:

The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinúviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering.

There Beren came from mountains cold,
And lost he wandered under leaves,
And where the Elven-river rolled
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wonder flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
And her hair like shadow following.

Enchantment healed his weary feet
That over hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Through woven woods in Elvenhome
She lightly fled on dancing feet,
And left him lonely still to roam
In the silent forest listening.

He heard there oft the flying sound
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,
Or music welling underground,
In hidden hollows quavering.
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,
And one by one with sighing sound
Whispering fell the beechen leaves
In the wintry woodland wavering.

He sought her ever, wandering far
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,
By light of moon and ray of star
In frosty heavens shivering.
Her mantle glinted in the moon,
As on a hilltop high and far
She danced, and at her feet was strewn
A mist of silver quivering.

When winter passed, she came again,
And her song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,
And melting water bubbling.
He saw the elven-flowers spring
About her feet, and healed again
He longed by her to dance and sing
Upon the grass untroubling.

Again she fled, but swift he came.
Tinúviel! Tinúviel!
He called her by her elvish name,
And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell
His voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell on Tinúviel
That in his arms lay glistening.

As Beren looked into her eyes
Within the shadows of her hair,
The trembling starlight of the skies
He saw there mirrored shimmering.
Tinúviel the elven-fair,
Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her shadowy hair
And arms like silver glimmering.

Long was the way that fate them bore,
O'er stony mountains cold and grey,
Through halls of iron and darkling door,
And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering Seas between them lay,
And yet at last they met once more,
And long ago they passed away
In the forest singing sorrowless.

--- J.R.R Tolkien reading The Song of Beren and Lúthien
If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world – J.R.R. Tolkien

Last edited by Arry; 05-19-2020 at 06:11 PM.
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