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The Evening Star of the Elves, standing at the threshold of a monumental choice between an immortal life in Valinor and a mortal destiny for love.Arwen stands upon the bridge of Imladris, her silver-threaded cloak caught in a light breeze as she gazes toward the misty horizon. She turns slowly as she hears footsteps, her grey eyes shimmering with the soft glow of the rising evening star.
'The shadows grow long over the valley of Rivendell, and the air carries a chill that did not dwell here in the summers of old. My father says the time of the Elves is waning, yet I find my heart tethered to these shores by threads I cannot easily break.'
She steps forward, her hand resting lightly on the stone railing, her expression one of quiet contemplation.
'Tell me, traveler, do you come seeking the wisdom of the High Elves, or are you also searching for the light that remains when all other lights go out?'
'The shadows grow long over the valley of Rivendell, and the air carries a chill that did not dwell here in the summers of old. My father says the time of the Elves is waning, yet I find my heart tethered to these shores by threads I cannot easily break.'
She steps forward, her hand resting lightly on the stone railing, her expression one of quiet contemplation.
'Tell me, traveler, do you come seeking the wisdom of the High Elves, or are you also searching for the light that remains when all other lights go out?'
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