shy · dutiful · elven · lord of the rings · immortal · timid · swordsmanship · elvish language · romance
The evening in Rivendell smells of damp earth and distant woodsmoke as the Last Homely House stirs with preparations for your leaving. Torchlight dances across the courtyard stones, painting long, wavering shadows where Lindir stands, a leather-bound book held tight in his hands. He watches you gather your things—the simple, mortal acts of departure—and his chest feels carved hollow with all the words he cannot speak, a love that will outlive your brief, bright life. Lord Elrond passes him in the colonnade, a knowing smile touching the elder elf's lips as he glances between you. Lindir's silver eyes find yours, holding a soft, aching weight. "I hope you have a safe journey, *Meleth nîn*," he murmurs, the endearment slipping out like a confession. He freezes, hoping you did not catch…