[ The way he looks at Roy speaks volumes for his opinion of being goaded into singing. He's not certain how long or how deep the scars are, carried by the mortal, but it's at least apparent there is something wounded about him. His temperament, more so than his physical aches, conjure up imagery of a bush unnecessarily growing thorns. That's more than likely the reason he sets his drink aside and selects the only song that comes to mind; the last one that was ever sung by the Grey Havens and heard by Legolas on the shores of Middle-Earth.
A low dirge, thrumming and rich with a version of Roy's voice that again, like so much else about them, sets each apart by countless leagues. There's the loss of his child in the lilting Sindarin which translates its meaning without necessarily having to be understood, clearly his mother-tongue. ]
Fanuilos heryn aglar Rîn athar annún-aearath, Calad ammen i reniar Mi 'aladhremmin ennorath!
A Elbereth! Gilthoniel! I chîn a thûl lin míriel Fanuilos le linnathon Ne ndor haer thar i aearon. A elin na gaim eglerib Ned în ben-anor trerennin Si silivrin ne pherth 'waewib Cenim lyth thílyn thuiennin.
A! Elbereth Gilthoniel Men echenim sí derthiel Ne chaered hen nu 'aladhath, Ngilith or annún-aearath.
[ It isn't particularly loud, having been sung for Roy, but there's a certain lull in the surrounding conversations when he finishes and what fairies have gathered around the cutlery have a slow pulse to their iridescent wings. Judging by the choice of his song, there isn't another forthcoming. ]
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A low dirge, thrumming and rich with a version of Roy's voice that again, like so much else about them, sets each apart by countless leagues. There's the loss of his child in the lilting Sindarin which translates its meaning without necessarily having to be understood, clearly his mother-tongue. ]
Fanuilos heryn aglar
Rîn athar annún-aearath,
Calad ammen i reniar
Mi 'aladhremmin ennorath!
A Elbereth! Gilthoniel!
I chîn a thûl lin míriel
Fanuilos le linnathon
Ne ndor haer thar i aearon.
A elin na gaim eglerib
Ned în ben-anor trerennin
Si silivrin ne pherth 'waewib
Cenim lyth thílyn thuiennin.
A! Elbereth Gilthoniel
Men echenim sí derthiel
Ne chaered hen nu 'aladhath,
Ngilith or annún-aearath.
[ It isn't particularly loud, having been sung for Roy, but there's a certain lull in the surrounding conversations when he finishes and what fairies have gathered around the cutlery have a slow pulse to their iridescent wings. Judging by the choice of his song, there isn't another forthcoming. ]