dusk descends in pale plumes of lavender & honey, yet the north horizon harbours a growing bruise, marred by clouds accursed with the promise of storm. the sun kneels, bows his gilt crown'd head to the ivory moon who rises in all her cold resplendent glory. & below are those celestial bodies mirrored, not upon belegaer's glassy surface, but a seashaken deck ⸻ their drenched throne, their splintered bed. the earth lain barren of all 'cept saltwater, wood, elf & man.
⊱ @ga1adriel ┊ ❝ i don't think you know yourself. ❞
a bold claim from one who's spent a millennia chasing shadows. how she bites so dangerously close to the bone! this brazen she-elf with her salt tangled gold mane, with little else to do but repose stubbornly as far from him as possible & pry with those cerulean-silver eyes that see all too deeply. ( oh he is aware she seeks to unearth, alludes to truth as if it were precious quartz concealed in coastal cliff's fissure ) & some things buried ought never see daylight again. brawned arms abdicate oar & he rests back 'pon scabbed elbows, soaked tresses dripping brine into his collarbone hollows. ❝ maybe i don't. ❞ a tilt of raffish jaw as weary eyes draw up to regard her, hazel & guarded. maybe i've been running for so long i wouldn't know where to begin. ❝ and yet you wear certainty like armour. ❞ cracked lips part to deflect, rugged timbre accompanied by a wry raise of brow. ❝ tell me, galadriel, who are you are without it ? ❞