Disclaimer: More of John and Bill's ideas, subverted to my own ends.
Author's Note: This being the third and final part of my Midsummer Night trilogy - I'm not thoroughly happy with it, but this last one just wouldn't write itself. Oh, and the three titles put together form a poem of sorts.
The roof spread like great branches above, though not as mightily as the mellryn of her home.
“My lady, ‘tis done. The draught was spilled as you commanded, into fair Undomiel’s sleeping eyes.”
“And what then? What elf did her love-addled eyes first see?”
“No elf, mistress. She strayed alone into the wood and there beheld a mortal man: Isildur’s heir.”
“’Tis not as I had wished - but some joy shall come of it, to o’er match the heartache. I am contented.”
“And shall this end my lady’s flight?”
“Aye; I shall return to Celeborn; my business here is done.”