silverdefender | Open RP Post

She takes his hand gladly and lets out a long, satisfied sigh as they wade into the hot water. The pool deepens considerably past the bench that rings the exterior and soaks up to her hip as she steps down into it.

He is so terribly handsome, lovely in ways that she cannot forget and is always somehow surprised to see every time. His hair falls past his shoulders, arrow straight and silver as the stars. His face is regal and his eyes bright and deep. He is broader than she and wears his strength so very well...but he is not entirely unscathed.

He is injured in the same way that she is, bruised and a bit battered, though he wears cuts while she does not. She thinks upon his question as she urges him to sit and then takes a seat alongside him, close enough that she still holds his hand and braces her bare shoulder against his.

"I do not know. I think perhaps elfroot is similar. It sooths as athelas does."

She makes his knees weak just by being near. Long years at her side haven't changed, and he knows it never will.

She is beautiful and graceful, delicate and powerful. Fierce and kind. She sees into hearts, knows them, and takes joy in much. He basks in her light and relies on her to temper him where he would otherwise fly into a rage unchecked.

Celeborn sits and gladly remains close enough for their shoulders to touch and hands to remain entwined.

"Is it easy to acquire?" He wants to get some to put on her bruises, to lessen the strain on her power.

"Easy enough; I shall acquire some when we are through, while you take a meal ere we retire," Galadriel says. It is not hard to guess why he wants it but it would do much good for him as well. She can find enough to calm both their minds...but not yet. The water is so wonderfully warm, as is he.

It is a strange feeling, this, and it takes a moment for Galadriel to reconcile what it is. Ease. She is at ease at long last; it is why the time here has felt so very long, she expects, that she has been in a constant state of alert and wariness without respite. She lays her head against his shoulder and closes her eyes, savoring the warmth and the calm.

It does not occur to her that this level of comfort and relaxation might be a poor idea while bathing because, at the same time, it does not occur to her that experiencing this would translate well into sleep. With her head upon his shoulder and the whole of her leaned against him, she drifts into the grey area before dreaming. It pulls her down and, for once, she does not fight it--it has never been this easy, so it is easily mistaken.

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