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Conversations in Doriath
Walküre:
FINDARÁTO: ''How could I ever let your wishes down, kind hosts, siblings and noble court of these halls. Never has something been dearer to an artist than having the right occasion to share the wonders of your own skills. Therefore, if songs and harmony are what you would fain be pleased with, I shall offer thee the finest and fairest lines. In hopes that these lyrics of mine will do only good, let yourselves be transported by memories of what has been or by the infinite and colourful mazes of fantasy. Whether remembrances and old reminiscences of the past could cause one to weep or even mourn, this I do not know. Nor could I foretell how influence on future events my melody will boast. Listener, open the gates of your being, so that the thread of time, deeds and emotions can move even the unmovable.''
Walküre:
--- Zitat ---In the bliss of Aman we were born, proud and strong lineage of a so noble kin, of which much is sung and we still sing,
Thou might not believe the wonders we dwelt in, for Finwë had led his people there and had been made our own High King,
Between the fairness of the beloved Vanyar and the sea-affectionate Teleri we used to stay, in Kôr immortal, where naught is grey,
The smith-Vala taught us the grandest arts, so that the mightiest things we could craft and fashion, while for many of us adventures throughout Valinórë were a pleasant foray,
Until the seed of discord among the gallant Noldor was planted and resentment the peace started marring.
Envy, anger and much hatred, from whom thought the Powers the Eldar in a golden gaol had confined, to restrain their might and under a yoke have them,
When peace was to be again, the darkest night on all descended, as the eternal day of the Blessed Realm terribly ended,
And the brightest jewels in Arda were cowardly stolen, causing also the sorrowful death of our own mighty ancestral monarch,
An infamous oath was sworn and naught might make his author the flames of vengeance forswear,
Most of the Noldor then deadly perils and dreadful challenges withstood, in order to return to the mortal shores and our legacy retrieve, yet unsure we are, whether success in the end we shall have.
Alas, when one has sworn revenge, innocent ones could too suffer and succumb, for the plague is implacable and all with never-ending grief consumes.
--- Ende Zitat ---
Walküre:
--- Zitat ---In Beleriand, thus, we greatly endeavour and struggle,
To punish the treacherous foe and win the ultimate battle,
As menacing clouds gather and furious storms may be seen across the horizon,
Light and Darkness their entire prowess in the final contest shall throw,
And so we hope and Manwë pray, to be with us in the toughest hour to come.
--- Ende Zitat ---
Walküre:
Some of the guests were overwhelmed by emotion and sadness, while the majority, albeit having been enchanted by such lyrics, remained still and in doubt, lost in the vastness of their thoughts. The king himself seemed initially to show some kind of empathy for the tragic narration that had just been sung, even though emotion left rapidly space for an intense meditation. The only one of that merry court who was standing impassive was Melyanna herself, conveying the impression of a genuine curiosity about those tales, of which she had had knowledge of via Galadriel's words.
Walküre:
While the court was still mesmerised by such superb composition, the daughter of the monarchs rose from her seat and spoke to the wise son of Arafinwë the Fair. She was Lúthien Tinúviel, who was thought to be the fairest Elf-maiden treading the paths of Arda. It's not clear where that judgement had originated, nor do we know whether the Eldar who dwelt in Middle-earth were conscious that there might have been fairer beings on the other side of the sea, living in bliss and close contact with the mightiest forces of the World. The Princess of Tirion had had indeed them wonder and interrogate themselves whether her beauty could have surpassed the one of their beloved Sindarin princess. Yet akin comparisons would certainly be spoilt and improper for the case, for the will of competition didn't belong to the immortal kind; at least, not in the fashion of those ill-conceived sentiments of mortal gents, which cherished glory and hegemony above all. But Lúthien did keep something special and otherworldly in her being, and Nerwen had exactly felt that the princess' gentle heart hid the most powerful and noblest strength of all: an infinite love, destined to bend anything on its way and the impossible deeds to make possible. Never had the royal Noldo perceived such warm and ardent flame. A flame which naught burns, but all nourishes and kindles.
LÚTHIEN: ''My ears could never have heard a finer song, wise prince. My father never did anything so well as to invite our noble relatives here, within the halls of Menegroth. Even in toil, grief or peril, the approaching shadow shall never take away from us the consolation of our music and the honour of our words. Under the darkness of the past perennial night, the people of Beleriand learnt to cherish the merest things of good in one's own existence and to worship even the humblest ordinary custom of theirs. Music, love, laughter and joy. Naught is greater than them and these mighty pillars of life shall never vanish in the midst of Arda's tumultuous thread of events.''
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