Dior smiled gracefully as he considered his daughter, Elwing. He had been discussing his family and had a feeling that one of his children had heard him and had chosen to listen in. He pretended not to notice their presence, even as he cast his gaze lightly about the room as though taking it in with a small breath. He saw the dark hair and one bright eye peering out behind a curtain in the corner and passed them by. Then, he spoke about Elwing.
"Yes, my daughter, my brightest gem - fairer even than the Silmaril that was my mother's. She and her brothers I hold dear to my heart, and shall cherish for as long as I live. From them, there is light and hope, and the carried on grace of Melian, Thingol, Lúthien, and Beren." He sighed softly, expression gentle and eyes twinkling with his love. "Yet Elwing is entirely her own being, as well. Adventurous, creative, bold. The way the child's brain creates stories in the woods, for her animal companions, her toys, her surroundings. . ." he marveled. "I think she could tell a better bedtime – or fireside time – story than I could ever imagine.
"Eluréd and Elurín are lucky to have such a sibling," he concluded, eyes moving slowly over to Elwing's hiding spot.
