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It is custom for the Dúnedain to turn their faces westward before meals, to Westernesse that once was. They bid us to do the same, and it reminded me of my home beyond the mountains; hobbits taking their elevenses in comfortable holes under hills.

I hope -- never to call it a once was but an always is.

[ Silence and a sigh as he recalls a funny thought. ]

My dear Sam said something about lettuce then, and something about rain. But sometimes these things slip my mind. Like rain on a wilted lettuce I think he said, like hope.

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I cannot blame Master Gamgee. Sometimes words are tricky and ill-suited for the poems we wish to write ourselves.

What of the elves? Do they have words for everything under the sun?

[ He chuckles lightly. ] I would claim that they do, but even in Sindarin poetry can sometimes be limited. However, the language of their High Elven brethren varies greatly.

Do you remember when you told us the tale of Tinúviel? I should like to hear it in its proper tongue, if I am given the chance.

Edited 2013-01-01 08:17 (UTC)

Ah, such a strong fascination you have for the elf-maiden Lúthien and her tale of love and woe.

[ The Tale of Tinúviel strikes a cord with Aragorn's own heart since he finds himself playing the role of "Beren" within the wake of the Evenstar's glow. ]

Do you wish for me to begin? It is memorized word for word within my mind, of course in Elven.

[ Frodo's eagerness is apparent as much as he tries to curb it. ]

Would you sing it for me? Oh, I do wish Sam were here too.

[ The halfling's eagerness truly makes him smile from ear-to-ear. ]

Master Gamegee shall have to ask for an encore performance.

[ Trying best to mimic the delightful tunes of his youth, Aragorn sings this ode to the fairest of all maidens with ever fiber of his being. Unlike that night when he hummed her song, the ranger takes pride now in sharing the tune with another. ]

I nimwaloth i bain a phant, I laiss in end calen nadhras, a egennir galad vin lant. En elin vi uialthiliol.

[ Typically this song was accompanied by the faint notes of an elven harp to keep with the melody. The words spoken at the end seem to "rhyme" a little, each possessing that slight note that give such grace and flair to the elven lyrics. However, at "uialthiliol", Frodo could tell that last bit didn't rhyme but rather act as a transition for the next verse. ]

Tinúviel i lilthas ias, na lind o *simp dholen a brand, A vi finnil dîn glîn ennas A vi chammad dîn míriol.

[ The second verse varies greatly from the first since none of the ending words rhyme. Yet that melody keeps the same pace and gives off the illusion. While Aragorn may lack a bard's tongue, the ranger makes up for his lack of flair with grace. He's a native speaker of this bewitching tongue. Perhaps one of the few Men still alive who could speak Elven so fluently. ]

(( hover over to see the translations, and check out how much of a geek I am... ))

Edited 2013-01-01 09:44 (UTC)

[ Or if Frodo has enough wits and skill with songs, he might repeat it often for his dear friend. Only what comes next proves the challenge great indeed, for the subtle passion Aragorn carries with each note isn't a skill anyone could learn.

He holds his breath until the end, even waiting for seconds after to relish the melody that hangs in the air, before he dares speak in a hushed tone. ]

Would that I can hold at least the sound of it in my heart, if not the words, to carry me through.

[ A small smile graces him now as he looks towards the hobbit. ]

Let this melody linger deep within you, Frodo, as it has lingered within me. Since childhood I have held this song dear and its poetic words close to my heart.

[ His smile grows. ]

Aye, I have always possessed such a fondness for odes since my early days. While you may not think it, Lord Elrond also possesses a strong fondness for these songs. Hence how I came to learn and cherish them as much as I do.

He must be a healer in both body and heart.

[ Frodo has a smile in his eyes, though it flickers and dims because not every wound heals. ]

I wonder how it was for Lúthien to dance before the Enemy. Did fear very nearly turn her feet to stone?

That he is, Frodo. Lord Elrond doesn't merely focus on healing the body alone without healing the soul as well.

[ A thoughtful hum leaves the ranger as he thinks more about this classic tale. ]

Even the most bravest of men sometimes quake before great evil. I do believe Lúthien was no different, but she didn't allow such fear to overtake her.

[ Frodo falls silent then, weighed with errant thoughts. He stares at his own hands resting palm up on his lap. ]

Has fear overtaken if it occupies one's every single thought, Aragorn? [ Has one lost hope if one no longer looks to reward but to an end? ] Were you ever afraid?

Yes, Frodo. [As much as he wishes he could say otherwise--] Even I once knew fear.

[ He's apologetic now for turning this to him. Memories of fear aren't so pleasant. But he needs to know. ] Was it death you feared?

[ He shakes his head. ] I was never the type to fear death as much as I feared the cursed blood in my veins.

[ Frodo isn't sure what it is he fears, to meet the end or to be without it when he longs for it. ]

To fall without chance of redemption?

[ He confirms the halfling's answer with a wan smile. ] You know me too well, Frodo.

[ Only for knowing himself well. ]

If I did, I would know what to say to soothe your fears.

Edited 2013-01-03 12:44 (UTC)

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