The Song and the Hand.

Of Beren and Lúthien.

I have heard stories of love and its surpassing hate,
And of how some averted tragedy and rewrote fate.
I have heard of heroes and gallant deeds,
Of blood and war and their causes in unworthy needs.
I have heard of all in this long life of mine,
But one story of all evades destruction by time.

I have heard tell of the great lady dressed in blue,
And eyes which spoke of a rain-filled cloud’s hue.
Moonlight her skin, shadowy twilight in her hair,
In Beleriand there proved none who was so fair.
In the land of Doriath she did dwell –
The one we called Lúthien Tinúviel.

In the story her heart’s breath was linked to one,
Who had fire in his mortal veins, Barahir’s son.
He was one trapped by vengeance, an outlaw,
With the kind of valour that few ever saw.
One who feared captivity but smiled at death,
And hated the Enemy with every breath.

They loved each other at first sight,
Through each morning and each night.
Daeron was the minstrel who betrayed them to the King,
And of the story that followed I shall not sing.
For all here know of the quest of the Silmaril,
It is something that is talked of still.

I wish to speak of the Love that between two hearts grew,
Something that I wished I could have too.
It is something beyond praise to achieve,
Losing a hand and yet manage to weave,
A noose so tight, to spite a father’s austere frown,
To cut the Jewel from Morgoth’s crown!

But what of the courage of Lúthien?
The one that surpassed that of many men!
To rush to her beloved despite the evil in elves,
Who forgot all in lust despite themselves –
With the help of an unlikely friend – a hound –
To rescue him with whose fate hers was bound.

Her strength combined with his was victory,
For if not for her song, rewritten would be history.
If not for her lips to draw out venom, or her power
To staunch mortal wounds, ghastly would have been the hour.

To this love – which made a mortal hold Feanor’s jewel,
And an elf to chose mortality with him to dwell,
I sink to a knee and bow my head low,
And wonder if such a love I shall ever know.


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