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A grand ball was unfolding within the majestic confines of the Woodland Realm's palace, where moonlight filtered through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colours upon the polished marble floors. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high vaulted ceilings, their myriad facets catching the light and scattering it like a shower of stars.
The air was alive with the harmonic strains of elven music, played by musicians hidden among the tapestries that adorned the walls. Their melodies wove through the air, intertwining with the laughter and chatter of the gathered guests.
The ballroom itself was a sight to behold, its walls adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes from elven mythology. Elaborate floral arrangements graced every corner, their blooms exuding a delicate fragrance that perfumed the air. Elven nobles swirled across the dance floor in a dazzling display of elegance and grace, their robes shimmering with ethereal hues. Each step was a testament to centuries of refinement and tradition, as they moved in perfect harmony to the rhythm of the music.
At the center of it all stood Myríel, resplendent in a gown of pale silver, adorned with delicate lace and shimmering jewels. Her hair of pale moonlight floated down her back, a crown of silver leaves resting upon her brow.
As she danced with Eridor, her betrothed, she felt a sense of detachment from the festivities around her. Though her movements were graceful and fluid, her heart was heavy with discontent, longing for something more than the stifling confines of duty and expectation.
Eridor's touch was cold, his eyes hollow, empty of any emotion for her other than lust for the possession of her, as he led her through the intricate steps of the dance. Myríel could feel the weight of expectations pressing down upon her, a constant reminder of the gilded cage that awaited her when she succumbed to her father's wishes.
Across the hall, she caught sight of her brother, Legolas, dancing with Tauriel, a beautiful, red-headed Silvan elf, who was also a captain of her father's guard. At first, joy swelled within her at the sight of them together, knowing that her brother had long harboured feelings for Tauriel that ran deep and true. But as she watched them, her happiness waned, replaced by a sense of unease.
Tauriel's expression was guarded, her eyes flickering with discomfort as Legolas spun her around the ball room. Myríel knew that her brother's affections were genuine, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that Tauriel's heart belonged to another.
Despite herself, Myríel felt a pang of empathy for Tauriel. While her heart also ached for her brother, it ached too for Tauriel, trapped in a web of expectations and obligations just as she was. She considered approaching her, twirling across the ballroom in her direction, to offer her solace or escape, but she knew that it was not her place.
