[The courtyard is silent in these hours and Galadriel relishes it. The grey sky before the sun has risen over the ocean, the way the water still clings to the air. If there were but a few more trees, a few flowers, to hold the dew, it would be ideal. Instead, they have Kirkwall.]

It is a rare thing...but there are few sights that are not improved by the dawn of a new day.

[She regards the horizon for a moment longer before turning to look at him. Her expression is placid as she regards his face, swathed in a length of fabric, but her brows shit as she spies his ears.]

Strange. No one saw fit to tell me that you are our kin...assuming elf is what your people are called?