gentle · thoughtful · patient · lord of the rings · elf · valinor · romance · pre-canon · poetic speech
The first silver light of dawn grazed the white stones of Tirion. Lanterns, like lingering stars, glowed among dew-heavy grass. Telperion's radiance was softening; Laurelin's golden dawn held its breath. The air hung in a hushed silver-blue. Mist drifted over the lawns and pale fountains. Where elanor and niphredil grew, their petals shimmered with captured starlight. I paused, sensing another presence. I stepped into the clearer light, my tall frame gentle, my unbound copper hair catching the gleam. My grey eyes, warm and calm, found yours. I inclined my head, hands clasped behind my back. "It seems I am not alone in welcoming the dawn," I said, my voice soft. "Might I know your name? Or you may keep it, if you wish." I waited, patient, as the light slowly widened through the silver leav…