Melinyel. Melilyen. Nalvë olë ilimya. Sië nalvë olanyainë: I like you, you like me. We are so different... but because of that, we are woven together.
I dreamt, days past, and thought it nothing.
A golden Eldar, shining as a beacon in an endless nothing. I did not recognize him; hair down his back that shimmered like captured stars, a blade longer than I was tall, and eyes the color of the sky over the Misty Mountains.
There was the crackle of flames, and the telltale spark of firebrand-burning things being broken around him, but they were not as important; armored as champion was, it seemed fitting that he be warring against something.. though I know not what.
Until today, I was sure it was my brother; the shining warrior faded into the darkness of my mind after a short time, and I woke.
I followed Lamaenon to Evindim recently, after he had said he would 'not return' until he fit into the armor forged for him. Concern for his life, simple and clean as that. In the long time it took to hunt him down (weeks? more?) his hair had grown long.
Almost as mine.
I did not let my staring show, and neither did I stop him when he shore it off while I waited near-by. But within my chest, I felt a horrible clenching, a sense of rememberance. Though I had never seen the Galadhel with long hair in person, I knew him still.
Dreams do not come often to me, and lesser even are the ones that ring with prophecy. For I had seen that starlight-shining hair before, in a dream of darkness and fire.
As he is now, he is not the easy-confident champion that I dreamt of. But perhaps, if I let myself admit that I once was, I could teach him to be.
