"I cannot say you have ever called upon me in such fashion," Galadriel answers gradually as her mind assesses him and begins to adjust to his presence. It is a quicker shift than before, but it is still much slower than waking.
Her dream is neither pleasant nor unpleasant, now. She stands in a courtyard overgrown on all sides by trees. The branches and trunks curve, grow against the stones and frame the alcoves, the windows and the columns. The whole of it is shady because the trees blot out all but the barest hints of the sky above. It would be a pleasant dream save for the fact that the courtyard is empty and silent. Galadriel regards the walls quietly. Her gown is ill-imagined, an amorphous shape of shifting colors, and lucidity does little to correct that.
"It is certainly more sitting than what you wore in Kirkwall," she says and her lips quirk up in a familiar sort of ease--not quite a smile, not quite anything else.
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branchandroot
I know you, I walked with you once
Date: 2018-03-24 09:28 am (UTC)Her dream is neither pleasant nor unpleasant, now. She stands in a courtyard overgrown on all sides by trees. The branches and trunks curve, grow against the stones and frame the alcoves, the windows and the columns. The whole of it is shady because the trees blot out all but the barest hints of the sky above. It would be a pleasant dream save for the fact that the courtyard is empty and silent. Galadriel regards the walls quietly. Her gown is ill-imagined, an amorphous shape of shifting colors, and lucidity does little to correct that.
"It is certainly more sitting than what you wore in Kirkwall," she says and her lips quirk up in a familiar sort of ease--not quite a smile, not quite anything else.