Disclaimer: Tolkien grew the flowers – Kortirion plays ‘I love you’ with the petals.
Swiftly we rode the waves under starlight, eager to enact our oath. Father urged the crews to gather every gust of wind, so that our sails were kept billowed out, their pale surface at near breaking point. The canvas creaked and groaned upon the air continuously... reminding us of the slaughtered left behind us.
In the enclosed spaces of the swan-ships many had dark dreams of deeds regretted; some breathed prayers to the Valar, but their faces had turned away. It was breath wasted. Bright and fell we were, and when our trumpets blew, all Arda trembled at our coming.