Lannon, a mellifluous appellation that slips from the tongue like a river stone turned smooth by centuries of Irish rain, traces its lineage to the Gaelic surname Ó Leannáin—“descendant of the leannán,” the lover—thereby wedding notions of ardent affection to the sturdy cadence of a Celtic family name; seasoned etymologists, ever fond of semantic mosaics, also point to the Old Irish lann, “blade” or “enclosure,” suggesting that the bearer may embody both the tenderness of amor and the resilience of a warrior’s steel, a duality the Romans might have applauded with a discreet murmur of “virtus et caritas.” In contemporary America, where statistical demography occasionally resembles an elaborate mosaic of its own, Lannon tiptoes onto birth registers with modest yet persistent grace—hovering in the 900s for most of the past decade—and thus enjoys the paradoxical cachet of being uncommon without teetering into obscurity. Pronounced LAN-uhn, it offers parents a phonetic clarity that belies its mythic undertones, a name as ready for the playground as for the pages of a legal brief. In sum, Lannon stands as a quiet herald of devotion and mettle, a whispered sonnet dressed in academic regalia, inviting any newborn knight to carry a banner stitched with both heart and blade.