The Elvish beauty is humbling to behold, and the unconscious smile that plays upon her full lips as Aragorn approaches to help her dismount from her steed could break hearts if the Evenstar were so inclined. She's bewitching, and …owyn cannot -does not wish to- take her eyes away from her. There is something unreal about her - …owyn has never lain eyes upon anything so lovely, never even dared imagine that anything existed in Middle-Earth of the like: she could weep at the mere sight of her.
It is the stinging sensation in her chest reminding …owyn to breathe that first draws her attention to the fact that she had not been.
Aragorn leads Arwen from her horse, from the entourage of elves that …owyn is sure are there, but that she's not even taken in, so fixed upon Arwen is her gaze. How she manages to curtsy when introduced, how she manages to find enough breath to murmur 'My Lady', …owyn doesn't know. Nor does she know exactly why she catches the long delicate hand of Arwen Undomiel in her own sword-callused one, and bows: brushing her lips over the soft skin on the back of Arwen's fingers...
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