to sail the shoreless skies by Arveldis

to sail the shoreless skies

Their ships draw near, and Arien laughs a bright, golden laugh as Tilion draws alongside, hiding the flame of Arien’s light behind his shadow. He bends over the side of his ship and catches her fiery hand in his, anchoring their ships against each other.

“We only have a few moments,” Arien whispers, her eyes sparkling like sunlight dancing upon water as she allows him to pull her closer.

“We need no more than that,” Tilion answers, dipping his head to meet hers and cradling her face in his hands, heedless of how the crackling heat of her scorches him.

Tilion finds Arien kneeling among the golden flowers of Vána, her bronze fingers trailing over the curves of their petals, from which fall the dews of Laurelin renewed. The golden light of the tree, mingling with Telperion’s growing silver radiance as evening draws near, nets her in a soft glow.

For a moment, Tilion merely stands in awe, his hand loose upon the silver bow resting against his shoulder.

Then he calls her name and steps among the flowers, and Arien stands as he approaches and takes warm her hands in his, unhurt. And as their lips meet, she smiles.