Think of a country
as a woman.
When it casts a grey cloak about you to hold and hum into,
When its air holds the sparkle of a cleansing breath,
When its land cradles you, its heartbeat thrumming up into your heels,
When its colours are pleasing and no voice calls men to war
- that country could not be a man.
Doriath was Yavanna herself.
Elu and Melian saw to that.
Not even the coming of the Sun and Moon
caused harshness to scratch a single skin.
The trees sang and taught us gently.
The Noldor and the orcs were mapping the land outside,
and they mocked us, challenged us;
But we had mapped the stars.
We sang before we wrote, wrote before we hated.
Doriath was the soul of an emerald.
To swim in the deeps of Menegroth and know
the earth's whims by Melian's pulse,
To be not Elu, but near him, as he pierced
the frontiers of his skin with divinity,
a living jewel, lover of the limitless,
a law unto himself, sharp as a meteor shower,
To walk in Neldoreth, where magic wove
and grew strong in dark, a self-guiding poem,
To be alive and see Luthien
dance as God might sing -
Think of this as Doriath.
We were wild, unpredictable,
a nation of gods and minstrels,
We fought, drank, laughed, thrilled,
we worshipped, we were volatile.
We were innocent, for that age of amber.
We had the beauty of individual, separate notes of sound,
long before the Noldor had a purpose
and long after they nursed it into obsession.
To us, things were never one seamless whole.
Inside our eggshell, we gleamed, each in our own right,
loved the music,
set the rest free.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.