Though all to ruin fell the world
and were dissolved and backward hurled,
unmade into the old abyss,
yet were its making good, for this,
the dawn the dusk, the earth the sea,
that Lúthien on a time should be.
In the Great Hall of Gondor the lords and ladies fell silent as the minstrel's tenor poured forth Beren's ardent love.
Captain Thorongil sat at the Steward's high table, his head bowed, dismayed at the painful leaping of his heart. Why must every young singer take on the test of this song? he asked himself irritably. And I cannot leave without drawing notice.
He sighed. Yet here no dangers loom, no watch must be kept, no men commanded.
For a little while, he could indulge the rapture and torment of his desire. He closed his eyes and sank into memory.
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.