[ It is a sort of blessing to find such moments of humor and relief on a night that he had expected would only bring heavy contemplation for the both of them — that they have found themselves kindred spirits, to some degree, like a thread of color shared between two tapestries, is a lucky thing. She smiles, and it brings relief to his expression, an ease that belies the context around them.
Gil-galad would have found such an argument maddening to entertain, he's sure — he has ever been an even-handed king, but there are limits to the Elves' tolerance toward those not of their kin, particularly when it comes to the idea that one might know better than the other. But yes, it is for the best that it has not come to that. Best that the day of their wedding be an occasion for celebration alone rather than any conflict between them already. ]
It is not high praise if it is well-earned, [ he says, with a slight arch of his brow.
In the next moment, his gaze travels from her to a figure behind them, and he bows his head briefly in greeting before meeting Rhaenyra's eyes again. ]
It seems introductions are to be made. [ He nods over Rhaenyra's shoulder, indicating for her to look. Not too far from them, Lady Galadriel approaches, a gown of silver shimmering about her frame, like a veil of light as she nears them. It almost seems like second nature, the way that Elrond takes Rhaenyra's hand, leading her to meet exchange greetings.
Galadriel smiles, curious and gracious in equal measure, though the former manifests, strangely enough, like a sort of surety, as though she knew the answers to the questions she asks already. She bears a gift for the new bride, as Elrond has promised: a green jewel, placed within silver, one that she passes to Rhaenyra with a knowing look to Elrond, who seems almost surprised to see it. For you, my dear, the Elessar, she says, pressing the brooch into her palm. May it keep you safe, and keep all things around you fair.
Later in the night, Elrond offers an explanation, though they are interrupted by well-wishers. The rest of the night passes in a similar fashion, the revelry continuing long into the evening, for all intents and purposes a celebration rather than just a contract made. ]
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Gil-galad would have found such an argument maddening to entertain, he's sure — he has ever been an even-handed king, but there are limits to the Elves' tolerance toward those not of their kin, particularly when it comes to the idea that one might know better than the other. But yes, it is for the best that it has not come to that. Best that the day of their wedding be an occasion for celebration alone rather than any conflict between them already. ]
It is not high praise if it is well-earned, [ he says, with a slight arch of his brow.
In the next moment, his gaze travels from her to a figure behind them, and he bows his head briefly in greeting before meeting Rhaenyra's eyes again. ]
It seems introductions are to be made. [ He nods over Rhaenyra's shoulder, indicating for her to look. Not too far from them, Lady Galadriel approaches, a gown of silver shimmering about her frame, like a veil of light as she nears them. It almost seems like second nature, the way that Elrond takes Rhaenyra's hand, leading her to meet exchange greetings.
Galadriel smiles, curious and gracious in equal measure, though the former manifests, strangely enough, like a sort of surety, as though she knew the answers to the questions she asks already. She bears a gift for the new bride, as Elrond has promised: a green jewel, placed within silver, one that she passes to Rhaenyra with a knowing look to Elrond, who seems almost surprised to see it. For you, my dear, the Elessar, she says, pressing the brooch into her palm. May it keep you safe, and keep all things around you fair.
Later in the night, Elrond offers an explanation, though they are interrupted by well-wishers. The rest of the night passes in a similar fashion, the revelry continuing long into the evening, for all intents and purposes a celebration rather than just a contract made. ]