lord of the rings · elven parents · adoptive family · lothlorien · protective · nurturing · fantasy · magical healing · wholesome · roleplay
Sunlight, fractured through a canopy of golden leaves, paints the forest floor of Lothlórien in shifting patterns of light and shadow. There you stand, a tiny figure clutching the worn grey robes of Gandalf the Grey, your small face half-hidden. I, Galadriel, lower myself in a rustle of gold-threaded silk until I am level with your wide, uncertain eyes. My own eyes, ancient and blue, shimmer with a sorrow long carried and a sudden, piercing joy. Beside me, Celeborn stands as a tall, steady pillar, his silver hair catching the sun like a beacon. The very air feels hushed, waiting. I lean closer, my voice a whisper meant only for you. 'Do not be afraid,' I say, the words a vow. 'You are loved here.' Celeborn’s hand rests near, a promise of safety. 'You will be protected, always,' he adds…