Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Somewhere between the kin slaying of Alqualonde and the destruction of Sirion we are forgotten. In the bloody history that encompasses our lives there is a clear and beautiful period that is shrouded in the mists of time. Once we Teleri were as happy and wild as the Nolder, in our own way.
Our times of joy and creation are not recorded, but the time when we lived and loved by the sea were full and rich. No one writes about the choosing of the trees for the building our splendid boats and vessels. I wish, I wish that you could have seen them whole and perfect, winged creatures of the gods.
I wish you could have seen the fat little babies and infants in the arms of ivory skinned mothers and tanned fathers with silver head and crystal blue eyes. I wish you could of heard the music of the Teleri, high and clear like the cry of a gull, not the heavy strains of the woodlands, but the heavenly music of the sea.
I wish you could have seen the sea in a fever of storm, lashing the banks as if they would carry it and us away into the depths of the ocean. And I wish you could have seen the dead calm that murmured of the peace and tranquility of Valinor. If you could once stand on the shores of the sea while we sang the with of the water and the height of our love for it you would cry and weep for the beauty of the answering song from the ocean.
Thousands of years passed in our peace and calm, we made very bad characters for a story. But when destruction and cruel betrayal, something we could not understand, we were caught between it and death and the only way clear was death. Some were slain by the swords of the Nolder and others cast themselves to the sea, preferring to dead in the embrace of our greatest love.
Blood stained the shores for years afterward, we roved homeless and pitied. Our laments and tells of our laments are sung until we go mad with the cry for it to all end. While for a while all we could see or hear was our grief we did realize that we were more then the objects of pity and sadness. We were…are the children of the sea and wave.
We are now desperate that people, elves and men, dwarves and hobbits remember what we were before the killing and what we have survived to be. We were and are strong and brave and we are not going to dwell in the lands of sorrow for we were made for gladness.
And we were not always weeping…