( it is easier here, to keep her admiration unrestrained. she will admit that galadriel indeed seemed larger than a single living being could be, in all the years and deeds recounted, each more fascinating than the last. later on, she might ask after how they two of them had met, amidst what felt like an endless possibility of questions and conversations to be yet had. (amidst, of course, the questions of his own life, curiosity hardly sated by the little she knows now).
there are many ideals westeros could stand to take away from their immortal counterparts. and yet, it is all but restriction, and limitation and she was born to the yoke of both, even if power came along with it, even if she had been regarded as spoiled, as she had gone ahead and challenged whatever limitation she could, as often as she could and of course that would cause others to chafe at her impulsivity (would she ever be free of this shadow, the way galadriel ostensibly was?)
it has long been a necessity, their show of power, and cruelty had long held its place (even if their very keeping of dragons had dulled much outright need of it in the years of late). that may be where some who are less content with peace might shirk her father's propensity for it. (for all his faults, she would not call him cruel, not held up against their predecessors; and yet she longed for change.) she was beginning to think, if her and elrond were both quick and clever enough, and as aligned in their intensions as they seem to be now, that such a thing was hardly some untouchable dream. ) I admit, I'm relieved to hear you say so.
( to hear that she might have a thing in common with someone such as galadriel, though? she isn't sure if its simple flattery, as it seems such an unlikely a thing. )... That would be a great honor, though I could hardly begin to guess at our commonalities.
( from gift to meeting. she twists at her rings again, finding herself more and more content in this — even in the silence shared within his company. there is a light that catches her attention, further up ahead of them, a distant glimmer of lanterns hung from sloping branches. even from such a distance, still obscured by foliage and branches, it seems like the stuff from long lost tales. she doubts she will ever stop thinking of this space as a marvel, maybe because how far removed it is from westeros courts — a thing she is reminded of at every new sight she sees. )
( quietly: ) And it appears we are soon to be reaching the path's end. ( and careening towards new beginnings. she looks up to him again, and her smile reaches her eyes, dry-humored as she continues: ) Thank you, for letting me intrude on your solitude. ( you know, before the big show of political unity between the king of the seven kingdoms, and the high king of the elves; she's aware she might have barged in on his last opportunity for private peace. )
no subject
( it is easier here, to keep her admiration unrestrained. she will admit that galadriel indeed seemed larger than a single living being could be, in all the years and deeds recounted, each more fascinating than the last. later on, she might ask after how they two of them had met, amidst what felt like an endless possibility of questions and conversations to be yet had. (amidst, of course, the questions of his own life, curiosity hardly sated by the little she knows now).
there are many ideals westeros could stand to take away from their immortal counterparts. and yet, it is all but restriction, and limitation and she was born to the yoke of both, even if power came along with it, even if she had been regarded as spoiled, as she had gone ahead and challenged whatever limitation she could, as often as she could and of course that would cause others to chafe at her impulsivity (would she ever be free of this shadow, the way galadriel ostensibly was?)
it has long been a necessity, their show of power, and cruelty had long held its place (even if their very keeping of dragons had dulled much outright need of it in the years of late). that may be where some who are less content with peace might shirk her father's propensity for it. (for all his faults, she would not call him cruel, not held up against their predecessors; and yet she longed for change.) she was beginning to think, if her and elrond were both quick and clever enough, and as aligned in their intensions as they seem to be now, that such a thing was hardly some untouchable dream. ) I admit, I'm relieved to hear you say so.
( to hear that she might have a thing in common with someone such as galadriel, though? she isn't sure if its simple flattery, as it seems such an unlikely a thing. )... That would be a great honor, though I could hardly begin to guess at our commonalities.
( from gift to meeting. she twists at her rings again, finding herself more and more content in this — even in the silence shared within his company. there is a light that catches her attention, further up ahead of them, a distant glimmer of lanterns hung from sloping branches. even from such a distance, still obscured by foliage and branches, it seems like the stuff from long lost tales. she doubts she will ever stop thinking of this space as a marvel, maybe because how far removed it is from westeros courts — a thing she is reminded of at every new sight she sees. )
( quietly: ) And it appears we are soon to be reaching the path's end. ( and careening towards new beginnings. she looks up to him again, and her smile reaches her eyes, dry-humored as she continues: ) Thank you, for letting me intrude on your solitude. ( you know, before the big show of political unity between the king of the seven kingdoms, and the high king of the elves; she's aware she might have barged in on his last opportunity for private peace. )