"I would prefer, I think, to wear something crafted by elven hands. Tempting as strangely colored clothing might be, it has been long years since I favored such...bold colors." Galadriel says after a moment of deliberation. She ignores Thranduil's motion to the guards--while the draw of power is tangible, she is in no hurry to relinquish what privacy they have, regardless of the sensitivity of the conversation.
"There might be some merit in wearing the styles of our local kin, but if need be I can furnish designs for something more familiar."
She regards her own sleeve in an absent sort of way--already, in the back of her mind, she has begun pondering how to feed a city within a city. Her white dress has endured Thedas admirably but, despite her skill in staying its decay, it is troublesome owning only one proper garment.
"It is a pity I must tolerate these Templars. I would like to see what our native kin might make if I could show them the arts one can weave into cloth."
no subject
"There might be some merit in wearing the styles of our local kin, but if need be I can furnish designs for something more familiar."
She regards her own sleeve in an absent sort of way--already, in the back of her mind, she has begun pondering how to feed a city within a city. Her white dress has endured Thedas admirably but, despite her skill in staying its decay, it is troublesome owning only one proper garment.
"It is a pity I must tolerate these Templars. I would like to see what our native kin might make if I could show them the arts one can weave into cloth."