It was a surprising description, if only a short one, and Galadriel's confusion danced across her features. Sad songs were not rare, especially among the Eldar, and they were often sung for recreation...but to sing one so dark to children? To usher them to their sleep with a warning dirge? That was strange enough that it came as a shock.

Galadriel was silent a moment. Perhaps the notion that it was a lullaby had addled her, that or her curiosity had overwhelmed her tact, but she did not offer the woman her condolences. Instead, she asked a question that was, quite possibly, not entirely appropriate.

"...Singing about hanged men and their lost loves worked to calm children?"

There was no judgment in her tone, she was merely mystified, as though the very concept were one she had never considered. Truly, she had not, and as her expression turned contemplative she added, quietly.

"Your father must have had true talent," she said. "I would guess that you have inherited it. Your voice is lovely."