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Pic by dreamworlds.ru   "Luthien"

Unrequited by elfscribe
For Lady Roisin
Rating: G
Characters: Daeron, Lúthien, Thingol, Melian
Beta: Thevina   
A drabble in 300 words.

By twos and threes they came, the children of Ilúvatar, treading through the warm summer night, glittering like fireflies, silky robes billowing. With gentle laughter they gathered  to hear Daeron, the master harper, who, it was said, could charm a song from the wind.

Tall, silver-haired Elu Thingol came, holding his queen, fair Melian by the hand, their ancient love shiny as spring leaves. They nodded at Daeron, who sat on the dais, hands poised over the strings of his harp, yearning for what they wore so lightly. 

Last came Lúthien, beloved of her people, cloud of black hair falling untamed about her shoulders, eyes brighter than the evening star. Briefly, she glanced at Daeron, holding him enthralled. Just for her, he had crafted a new song, laboring long into the night. It must be perfect.

Expectant stillness.

Tenderly, he plucked the strings, releasing a cascade of crystal notes and the crowd sighed.  In a voice purer than silver, sweeter than a nightingale, he sang of Cuiviénen in the morning of the world, of shining waterfalls that widened into clear pools, and foamed, flower-laden, towards the sea. There, in the hidden dells the awakening Firstborn touched their own faces and knew they were alive. The gladsome tune changed to a minor key and Daeron sang of a fair maid dwelling by the waters, who had captured a youth’s heart, and because she knew it not, paid him no heed. Overhead wheeled the canopy of stars as he sang of longing and love unrequited until his listeners’ hearts were wounded and their cheeks wet.  

He bowed his head, his song ended.  A beat of silence, then, a tumult of applause. 

He sought her approving glance, but of all those admiring faces, only she looked past him, perceiving another melody from afar.   

 * *  * *      

Date: 2010-04-09 02:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] keiliss.livejournal.com
Rather more Faery Queen than your usual elven portrayals, yes, but quite lovely. The first paragraph set the scene wonderfully --- treading through the warm summer night, glittering like fireflies --- and the ending brought us back to a reality still to come.

Beren. My theory is and always has been that he was ripped, that he was hot, and that Luthien was thinking with her hormones.

*hears JRR rolling in his grave*

Date: 2010-04-09 04:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] elfscribe5.livejournal.com
He was ripped. Oh yes, I'll totally go for that view. LOL. Something caused that instant attraction, love at first sight and so on. Btw, I can't get that image out of my head, that awful painting by Rowena Morrill of a barely clad Luthien flinging herself around the clearing with Beren lying in wait, dressed like Robin Hood. Oh my eyes, my eyes! LOL.

Date: 2010-04-10 11:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] keiliss.livejournal.com
:| She's lying just off to the left of the icon where she fell when her frenetic leaping sent her head on into a tree. Robin Hood wannabe has gone to get water to bathe her poor sore, head.

And now I will never look at this icon with a straight face again!

Date: 2010-04-11 02:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] elfscribe5.livejournal.com
And now I will never look at this icon with a straight face again! Heh heh. I love it.


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