[Nurumaiel]

"I made a dreadful mistake in telling my service to the King as Bard," said Liornung with a playful little smile. "Now you compliment me more than I am worthy of. I thank you." He bowed low to Osric, and the latter spoke again, "Sing for us first, Master Liornung, as Bard of days gone by."

"But, uncle, I beg you tell me this first," Maercwen broke in before Liornung could go to fetch his fiddle. "Why is it that you were Bard of the King and no one ever knew this? Would not Eorcyn know, and perhaps Osric as well, and others who were older than children before the War?"

"It was not a grand affair," Liornung replied, "as this one is. Times were growing troubled then, and such festivities were not held. There was no Contest; I sang in the Hall once as I passed through Edoras and the King bid me stay awhile and be Bard. The honor of Eorcyn and Hearpwine is much greater; they have earned through hard toil their right to the title while my little song merely caught the King Theoden's fancy." He moved off to find his fiddle and Maercwen went to her sisters, drawing them to her and kissing their golden heads. She sat beside Gomen and a silence fell upon the room when Liornung returned. His eyes had become soft and dreamy and he struck up a slow, haunting melody that rose and fell as waves of music, bringing the incense of sound to the room and delighting the ears of those that heard.

"Oh, fare thee well sweet Hall of Gold,
I leave thee for awhile.
The days are short, the year is old,
the road is many miles.
I hoped to stay but a little more
and linger for some days
but my presence here is o'er;
I can no longer stay.

Oh, when I was but a little boy
I heard of your renown
and such tales filled my heart with joy,
you, Edoras' crown.
I dreamt on thee by dewy grass
when time was sunrise
and hoped that one day at last
you would be my prize.

And Edoras is sweet and fair,
Rohan's gleaming star;
the Golden Hall a jewel rare;
I saw it from afar.
I travelled to that fairest place
to come before the King.
I saw the Hall's golden grace
my heart did sing.

And then before the King a melody
presented soft and low;
I sang a song most readily
of heroes long ago.
His eye was kind, his voice was soft,
no evil his words marred,
he wished me in the Hall to sing oft;
he named me as King's bard.

Joy complete, oh Hall of delight,
I sang within your walls,
my heart with peace was ever bright
and ever was enthralled.
But now alas I see darkness afar
and see a sorrow fall.
The darkness brings a weary war
so farewell, Golden Hall!

Oh, fare thee well sweet Hall of Gold,
I leave thee for awhile.
The days are short, the year is old,
the road is many miles.
I will not return again, I fear
to sing before your King
but all memories I will hold dear,
and the joy my music brings.

His voice broke and his hands trembled as he set the fiddle down. He shook his head and spoke, saying, "My friends, there is more to the song but I cannot sing. My heart was near broke when I left the Golden Hall and ceased to be Bard of the King. I dreamed of it long, ever since I was a boy, and it was bitter. I recall those days now when I gaze upon the youthful face of Hearpwine, and the memories are sweet and sorrowful. Yet I do not sorrow that the young has had his dream fulfilled and will someday be Bard. I weep that my days as Bard were too soon over, and the days of King Theoden. Perhaps I will sing to you the rest of the song when the memories have fled my heart and no longer pain me as they do now."