To the uplands of Dorthonion we went together,
treading the heather:
long before Aegnor looked--or Andreth--
we looked into Tarn Aeluin
and saw each other
starlit.
No star-crossed lovers we--
when we held hands,
our palms and fingers matched
precisely.
You cut reeds for a flute,
before we left.
On Amon Rudh we danced,
before Beleg bled there--or Turin--
and the seregon about our heels
was red blooms blossoming,
only that.
Unafraid in the woods--
you and I--
girls laughing together in the woods--
you and I--
before the Dark Lord
returned to the North.
