paradisalogs | Introducing the People of Paradisa

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Introducing the People of Paradisa

Who: The Lord and Lady of Lothlórien & Everyone
What: While the two love birds have a romantic picnic within the courtyard, several nosy imps decide to crash their little party.
When: Midday
Where: The Gardens
Rating: PG-13 and much embarrassment on Celeborn's part.

[The gentle autumn breeze welcomed the two star-crossed lovers as they dined together upon several blankets spun from the finest wool. It was the perfect afternoon for a picnic, one comprised of clear sunny skies damped in bright cyan and fluffy white clouds that rolled past in an endless march to the distant horizon. Such a day was like most others here in paradise but what made this day so unique from others was two lovers who sat under the shadow of a sturdy maple tree. They dined and laughed in unison, the two of them greatly enjoying their time together in the form of flirtatious quips and innocent kisses. It was quite ridiculous how in love these two were but anyone with eyes could tell that they're definitely take their vows seriously.

Gently brushing his lips against Galadriel's hand, Celeborn was honestly not aware of the small crowd that gathered nearby. It seemed that many of Galadriel's friends have taken an interest in their timeless romance, many of which seemed more impish than curious. While he most certainly welcomes any and all of his wife's dear friends, Celeborn might be the first to remind them that this sacred time he shares with his beloved is his and his alone.

The Lord of Lothlórien can be a tad selfish like that.]

The glorious shine of the day fails in comparison to your beauty, my eternal queen.

[He whispers quietly with a faint smirk curling upon his lips. Celeborn could go on for days in admiration of Galadrial's celestial beauty but he rather not embarrass her so in public.]

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[ So you've met a lion, Galadriel's face twin, and a girl with a direwolf. You know what time it is then?

The shadow that crosses your eyes certainly is not a bird, it is too large to be a bird. Nor it is a small dog that has grown wings. It is, in fact, a dragon of that size. But not the same that Galadriel originally met. This one is colored black-and-red, slightly larger than his green-and-bronze brother.

Following the dragon is a girl of silver-gold hair and violet eyes, dressed in the garb of her people; a painted leather shirt, sand silk pants, and a choppy over skirt. For the moment she does not see them, not truly and does not think to call back her child as he flies about. ]

[The shadow is familiar, even if it is smaller, and it's enough to wipe the smile off her face, appearing as unexpectedly as it does. Her grip on Celeborn's arm tightens ever-so slightly.

Logically, she knows that this is Paradisa, not Middle-Earth, and that the sight of a dragon need not alarm her so, but it still takes the logical part of her brain time to catch up with her instincts. Words will take longer still. Give her a few moments and she'll say something about the girl- call out to her, perhaps. But right now her tongue fails her.]

[ As eerily familiar that shadow was, Celeborn never suspected he would come nearly face to face with such a beast again. Dragons once flew proudly throughout the skies of Middle-Earth, many of them leaving much death and destruction in their wake.

Uncertain as of how such a monster managed to make its way here to Paradisa, Celeborn's hand went to his sword instantly. Studying the creature as it came nearer, Celeborn's eyes widened somewhat once he realized just how small the dragon was. ]

It's a mere hatchling. [ He stated in pure awe and wonder. ] Not even hundred or so years old yet.

[ Somewhat fascinated by the small creature, Celeborn's gaze shifts instantly towards Galadriel once her hand reaches him. ]

Melamin?

[ His queen seemed utterly petrified by it and for good reason. ]

[ The dragon swoops towards the girl following him before flying up into the air again, twisting and turning as if he is having fun simply flying. Though his eyes seem trained on the pair and their picnic, curiosity piked by their mere presence.

Daenerys notices this, following her dragon's gaze down to them and blinking. The woman she recognizes instantly, such a person is not instantly forgotten, but the man she does not. Yet somehow they seem to match, to fit together. ]

My lady. [ Her brow furrows. ] Are you well?

[She's able to shake herself out of it well enough by the time Daenerys reaches them and, though still a little pale, she offers an apologetic smile to the girl.]

I am. Forgive me; I was caught unawares and reminded of days long past. I do better with dragons when I have prepared myself.

[She turns to her husband, releasing his arm.] I apologize to you also, Mela en' coiamin. I did not mean to cause you alarm or appear craven before you.

[ Quick to soothe his beloved with sweet endearments, Celeborn couldn't help but eye the newcomer who came near with a look of wariness. Never in his days has he seen a dragon bend to the will of a master so readily. It's obvious that the dragon must've belonged to Daenerys because she didn't seem the least bit frightened of it. While the two Elves gawked at the creature in somewhat fearful fascination, the white-haired maiden seemed rather puzzled by their stares.

How strange. ]

Apologize not, my queen. It has been many years since we've last seen dragons and even so, our memories of them aren't forged from fondness.

[ She turns her head from them for a moment. ] Drogon. [ As if understanding the black-and-red dragon flies for her outstretched hand, landing on it softly he peers at her and then at the elves. ]

I know they can cause fear as well as wonder in others, I apologize if my child caused you both undue stress.

[ It does not surprise her to hear such things, even in her own world there are those who fear her dragons. Stories of Aegon the Conquer and his sisters riding upon the backs of dragons raining down fire, they are enough to instill fear in some. Yet it is with fondness that she regards the dragon in her hand, moving to allow him to climb onto the leather shoulder guard she wears. ]

He is fierce and protective, but means you no harm. I can assure you.

[ Her gaze turns to Galadriel, puzzlement etching onto her face. ] Are you truly a queen, my lady? Or does this man speak with endearments?

[ The fondness between them is hard to ignore, but still IS THIS A THING YOU DID NOT TELL HER? GOSH. ]

The fault is not yours, nor his. I am learning to be more at ease, but such things take time.

[But at that last question, the smile returns to her face, a mixture of amusement and fondness.]

Both, mayhaps. In our realm, we are called simply "The Lord and Lady," yet we rule as would any king and queen. My husband chooses the greater title out of affection, no doubt.

[And now you know why she was so amused by your rambling off that mile long list of titles.]

Aye, I shall confess that I do not find such titles worthy enough to be valued so heavily by others. However, my dear wife is truly a "queen" within my eyes.

[ Somewhat feeling embarrassed now, Celeborn casts his eyes downward to study the mythril wedding ring upon his fingers. ]

Therefore, I shall always acknowledge her as such.

[ GALADRIEL, GALADRIEL. ]

Then I have addressed you improperly. [ And as someone she believes is worthy of her respect this is totally grievous. ]

They are of value to me, your grace, though I am pleased to see your lady wife is no longer without you. Even with everything it entails. [ Blah blah, being trapped. ]

[Oh, Celeborn. Keep this up and you'll make her blush. She will take his hand and give it a fond squeeze before turning to answer Dany.]

You have not; it is common enough for Elven rulers to be addressed as "lord" and "lady." [She can think of a number of exceptions, but only two living one- her father, of course, and Thranduil in Mirkwood. Kings are less common than they once were for the Firstborn.]

[ A smile settles on Celeborn's lips once his dearest queen gives his hand a loving squeeze. ]

My kinsman once wore such titles as he ruled Doriath before a terrible obsession would claim his life. I, of course, speak of King Thingol of Doriath, the High King of the Sindar and Lord of Beleriand.

Then I should continue to address you as my lord and my lady, if it pleases you. [ It feels odd to her, but if that is what they wish she will abide by their wishes. ]

It would please me. [It's just more natural that way.]

[ He nods in consent. ]

Forgive us if our ways seem foreign to you. It's just that we have no need for titles.

[ Dany smiles politely, while Drogon tilts his head from her shoulder. ]

There is nothing to forgive, my lord and lady, as strange as they are I can understand them. Though I feel those deserving should be addressed properly and cling tightly to my own titles.

[She smiles lightly.] And how are you so certain we are deserving, my lady? You do not know us well.

Perhaps she has "good taste".

[ ...Was that a small quip from Celeborn? One could honestly believe it was. ]

In truth I cannot say for sure, not yet, but I do hope I am proven right.

[ She laughs shortly at Celeborn's comment. ]

I fear my "taste" is poor, I am still a young girl and can be fooled as easily as any other.

Yet you admit that freely- there is wisdom in that. [Some people ~~totally not Galadriel~~ had to learn to admit they weren't infallible the hard way.]

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Introducing the People of Paradisa

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