First Watch

Firelight gleams on hair the color of moonlight. His grace in battle is renown; a fluid dance known too well in these black times. Yet I know naught else about him.

The future king nods at my approach, eyes cast down, lips twitching acknowledgement. He is dangerously handsome. The elf turns to me and smiles; it is a thing of heartbreaking beauty. He reminds me of sunlight shining on a clear, running stream.

"Lady Eòwyn," Legolas’s stands, his hand held out in friendship. "Join us."

This night, I am twice favored to bask in both the dark and the light.