The sequel of The Last Dragon.
Follow along the adventures of Lachril and Idhrendir as they discover new cultures and races of Middle-Earth, seeing them learning from the Valar and the Elders. (Sorry I'm bad at summaries)
Crossover of GoT and Middle...
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The sound of the gentle song from the morning birds made a small peaceful smile on Glorfindel's face, feeling the first warm rays of sunlight bathe his large room. Opening his ocean blue eyes, he turns his head towards the open door, which leads to the marble balcony, and saw the beautiful blue sky. Seeing some fluffy white clouds floating lazily on the sapphirine canvas.
A deep sigh fell from his thin lips as he pushes away from his face some pieces of his golden hair. Has much life in Middle-Earth have been peaceful, a sorrowful feeling hovered on Glorfindel's mind. Every single day, the King of I Lúg Post missed his Dragon Queen, the love of his life.
Nightmares from the battle against the dead still plague his dreams, making his cold nights sleepless. Watching the empty space on the large bed beside him, wishing that one day he would wake up with the beautiful smile of his love... Daenys Targaryen.
Rubbing away the sleep from his eyes, the Elven King sat on the bed with a tired sigh. His ocean blue eyes fixed on the empty cold spot on the bed, where his Dragon Queen would sleep beside him. He put his large hand on the cold sheets, stroking gently the soft fabric.
"How I miss you, Melleth nin... every single day..." he whispers with a single tear falling down his pale cheek.
Closing his eyes, Glorfindel turn away from the empty space on the bed, knowing that she would not answer him with her melodic voice.
Standing up, the elven king begins to get ready for the day.
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"LACHRIL!!" Maedhros's voice echoed in the dining room as he barges in. His handsome face covered with little hair draws, making him look that had a dwarf beard.
The room was filled with laughs when the other elves saw the furious red-hair elf stomping into the room, especially his brothers. Even Lord Fëanor had a smile on his stern face.
In the corner of the room, hiding behind the curtains, was the silver troublemaker. Little giggles fell from Lachril's lips as she sees her marvelous job on the angry elf.
The young princess was wearing her travel clothes, black trousers and a long beautiful shirt which resemble her mother's and grandmother's clothes. The Targaryen girl was a nightmare to her handmaidens, not wanting to wear fancy dresses or pass her days knitting with the rest of the Ladies. Instead, she spent her days on Daenerion's back, her loyal mount.
Maedhros's eyes follow the sound of her giggling and walk quickly towards the young princess. "Do you think it's funny?! I can't take this damn thing off!" he said while pointing to the fake beard on his face, making a fit of laugh escape from Lachril's lips.
Her violet eyes were full of tears as she bends over with her arms around her stomach, laughing like a mad woman.
