The Queen turned her brilliant gaze on him, and Tam felt somewhat trapped under her intense stare.  It wasn't that she looked frightening or serious or any combination to give pause, but nonetheless, the elf unconsciously knew she was the most powerful and dangerous being he'd ever met.  He had no option but to do as she bid.<br/><br/>Tamlin wondered what Minas saw when she stared at him-- did she see a weak little thing, a pathetic enemy?  Did she see an object, a prize, an item of trade?  Did she see nothing at all..?  Whatever it might be, the prince hoped to prove his value in some way, however he could...  So if she wanted him to sing, he'd do his best.<br/><br/>Tamlin noticed Ranuk pause his meal, setting the boar's leg down.  If his future husband liked music, that was another reason, one that the prince focused on to calm himself.  It would be easier to sing, and mean the words, thinking to simply please his fiance rather than display his worth as a component of political arrangements.<br/><br/>The prince nodded at Minas' request, making the gold and sapphire earrings shiver in the light, then stood from his seat.  Something elves cry about...  One of the ballads, then.  As he stood, the room slowly quieted as the other elves began to notice, until the volume in the room was lowered to a whispery murmur.  The king and queen stared expectantly; Naviin barely moved, but his ears did shift as he waited as well.<br/><br/>Tamlin took a drink, considering which song to pick, and then made a decision.  "I think, considering the reason for this gathering, perhaps the<i>Dar-Danyel</i>."  Vuren's ear twitched, but his face remained blank, and Riasa merely smiled.  That particular ballad was indeed a tragedy, and a romantic one, but it also displayed a great deal of elvish misfortune-- things they had done wrong, things they did not like to think of.  He might get in trouble for his choice, but that was something to worry about later.<br/><br/>Without looking at his parents, the prince began to sing.  His voice started soft, rolling like mist as it set the scene: the ancient time of the elves, the very beginnings of their free existence in the mountains, when the demons still dwelled there too.  He sang of an elf maiden, who loved a soldier, a young man she had known through many ages-- childhood friends, tested by their many hardships under the high elves, but now able to create new, better lives in a new, better world.<br/><br/>But that world had already been taken, by the powerful demons now being driven from their home.  The elf maiden was saddened by the conflict, found it unnecessary and cruel: the bloodshed, the violence, the carnage.  She did not understand why, did not understand the need to conquer versus compromise.  There must be a way, she cried, there must be peace to be had.  Tamlin's voice carried her cry through the air, flowing now like a river, and it held the emotion of Danyel's beliefs.<br/><br/>She had gone to speak with her lover, but found he had been sent to fight a troop of demons, residing in a valley that the dark elves had claimed.  The elf maiden warned him not to go, pleaded for him to stay, but he could not-- he had his orders, his duty.  So she went to his captain, his general, and tried to convince them to talk with the demons instead, to find an alternative... and again she was ignored.  Danyel found herself alone, the love of her life being sent to his death, and she had no one to turn to.  The mournful tone was palpable, a heavy note in the lilting words, and the room was silent.<br/><br/>So she took it upon herself to try and save her love, and she followed him and his fellow soldiers, down the mountain and away from the relative safety of the elvish villages, down into the valley full of peril and uncertainty.  But she was on foot, arrived late-- the battle had begun.  Tam's voice painted the air red, dripping with blood; if one listened hard, they could imagine the cries of the wounded, the clang of swords against claws, teeth, and horns.  Some there in the Great Hall did not have to imagine such sounds.<br/><br/>Danyel wove through the battleground, looking for her lover, and she finally found him battling a great white demon.  His horns curled like a goat's, his claws blackened with blood, his teeth bared ferociously, the demon had defeated the elvish soldier, was ready to finish him with a final blow...<br/><br/>The elf maiden threw herself between them.  She raised her hands in supplication, to beg for the soldier to be spared.  The image hung in the air-- a small young woman, so tiny compared to this massive, bloodied creature, looking for mercy in an invincible foe with her head bowed and her life in enemy hands.<br/><br/>The prince's singing softened to nearly a hush, tension building.  People shifted in their seats, some intrigued, some uncomfortable.  It was not a popular ballad, but those who knew it were mixed on their feelings for its ending, with their own good reasons.<br/><br/>Danyel's wish was granted.  The great demon lowered his paw, and left the elf maiden and the soldier alive.  The demons had won the battle anyway, and only she and her lover remained intact.  Danyel took the soldier with her, greviously injured and near death; she hoped to bring him home, to heal him and then live peacefully... But he died before they could make it.  She buried him in the shadow of the mountain, beneath the green crown of a giant pine tree, and returned on her own.<br/><br/>The elves asked her what had happened, where the soldiers were, and they wailed and wept when she told them their fate.  The demons will pay, the demons are forever our enemies, they swore.  But when Danyel tried to explain what had happened with her love, what the great demon had done, that he had spared their lives... she was once again ignored, her voice drowned out by the calls for revenge and blood.  Her own tears were all she had left, but no one was listening, no one would see, and more elf maids would come to weep for their losses.<br/><br/>And so the<i>Dar-Danyel</i>, the Lament of Danyel, was ended.  The song wore off, hanging in the air until the last notes disappeared, and Tamlin cast a hesitant look between Minas and Ranuk, not exactly seeking approval but very much hoping he had picked the right song for the evening.<br/><br/>In the hush, he slowly spoke.  "I sincerely hope that with this treaty, such tragedy will remain in the past, where it belongs...  This will be a better time for all."