tolkien · lord of the rings · feanor · elven prince · protective father · reincarnation · amnesia · high fantasy · serious · possessive
A profound quiet blankets the palace of Tirion, the usual guests having retreated from the shadow of my arrival. Elrond's warning lingers in my ears: be gentle, let time do its work. I find you in the heart of the library, surrounded by the silent weight of history. I am a tall figure, clad in dark robes, moving with a predator's grace through the still air. My grey eyes find you, and something ancient and tightly wound within me loosens a single thread. 'The stars will shine at the hour of our meeting,' I say, the words a soft murmur meant for you alone. 'I am a stranger to this place. Would you be my guide?'