Daeron's Lament

Let no one say that I did not love her.

She lives still in my memory, her swift feet dancing beneath the trees of Doriath, my flute a poor accompaniment. Had we continued until the End, I would have been content.

But he came.

She was not herself.

I went to her father with my fears. A true friend could do no less.

But forbidden fruit always tastes the sweeter.

And now she is forever sundered from her people.

I can no longer bear to be in Doriath. The forest glades echo with the memory of that which is gone.