I belted out the nonsense with a laughing smile on my face as I welcomed the guests alongside my comrades. Often I wondered, how had I come to this?
A proud Noldo of the people of Fëanor I once was: a healer for the most part but unafraid to pick up a bow when necessary and defend my father's land from the marauding armies of Morgoth.
I stilled my voice for a moment of contemplation. Oh, how they would have laughed to see me now! Atar and Amillë, Lord Caranthir their friend, my own friends, Noldor and Laiquendi alike, all of them; I could picture them laughing, laughing until tears ran down their cheeks. What a sight! Daelómë, proud daughter of a prouder warrior, singing nonsense to welcome dwarves, of all Peoples!
I let out a soft sigh. They were all gone now, but about some things it is said that if you do not laugh about them you will cry about them, and that is my choice: to stay here in Imladris to laugh and sing my cares away until the Sea calls me home or I fade away.
I joined back in the chorus: "Tri-li-li-lolly! The valley is jolly! Ha ha!"
And I meant it. Rivendell was truly the happiest place east of the Sea.
I looked around at my fellow singers. Few were Noldor, none other was Fëanorian. I should have been looked down upon and ostracized as a Kinslayer by the Teleri in Rivendell, but I felt nothing of the sort. Here I can be whoever I want to be, forsaking the myriad cares of past, present, and future.
"Oh, will you be staying or will you be flying? Your ponies are straying the daylight is dying!"
I though back to earlier in the never-ending song. "Tra-la-la-lally!" Of all the stupid things to say! We were all so far out of our minds that it sometimes frightened me. We had snapped and fallen, but we didn't care!
Such is life, I suppose. Crazy is as crazy does, they say and my fellows and me are the prime examples.
"To fly would be folly, to stay would be jolly! And listen and hark, till the end of the dark, to our tune! Ha ha!"
I laughed out loud for the joy of it.