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Cerin Amroth. The sacred hill where the memories of elder days awaken beneath quiet footsteps. Old light returns without a sound, as if lost ages never fled—as if Laurelin still shone, as if Telperion stood bright, as if the First Age lingered on and never yielded to the night. This is the place where even plants sing in praise to Amroth, fair king of elder years, where leaf and stone outlive all fears. At dawn the rays pierce through elanor blooms—the sun held fast in golden petals. The veils fall loose before their eyes. Their hearing sharpens through the gloom. All stands untouched, kept in grace, save the broken forms hunted and erased from time until silence claimed the final dead. The elves bow low in quiet shame for chains once placed in gentle guise—the blindfold law, the mistrust. Yet wrath dissolves when beauty came in gold and green before their eyes. Mallorn crowns of living gold, silver flets in woven light, elanor and niphredil reborn like stars beneath the sight. 🌸🌟 They fall to their knees on fragrant ground, breathing time no herb could grant—scents more fierce than mortal sound, older than the songs they chant. From root to crown the trees sing, their leaves like mirrors bright and fair. And Aragorn takes one small thing: a bloom to keep his love aware. For this is where he and Arwen pledged themselves decades ago. This is where she chose mortality. This is where he returns alone, knowing he may never see her again if he falls in the war ahead. Frodo sees—for one breath so brief—two lovers lost to time's embrace, both bound to grief, their meeting sealed in memory's place. A vision. A ghost. An echo of what was and what might never be again. The wind sighs soft what hearts still say: Arwen vanimelda... Namárië. Fairest Arwen... Farewell. 💔🍃 Slow, soft as wind through mallorn leaves. Harp and clarinet weaving through forest ambience. Female and male voices calling and responding like echoes across time. This is Cerin Amroth—where beauty heals, where memory lives, where love endures even when hope does not. 🌲✨ ❤️ Subscribe for sacred LOTR places 👍 Like if this broke you gently 💬 Most beautiful location in Middle-earth? 📢 Share with those who remember LYRICS: Beneath their calm and measured tread, Old memories of ages spread, Without a sound, a splendor wakes, A vanished world that breathes and aches. As if Laurelin still shone bright, As if Telperion stood in light, Here roots and leaves in whispers blend, And sing of Glorfindel, flame and end. At dawn, when Anar’s first rays fall, Haldir lifts the veils from all, Sight restored, yet deeper still Their hearing sharpens at his will. With widened eyes they stand in awe, For all is kept by ancient law, Save twisted forms in ruin cast— Orcs hunted down, erased, outlast. Then Elves bow low in quiet grace, In pardon shown upon each face, For captive cloth on friends once laid, A borrowed fear they wished unmade. No anger stirred where beauty stood, For Mellyrn crowned the living wood, White flets above, and flowers bright, Elanor, Niphredil, star-born light. Lost constellations, drowned by day, By sunlight as on Arda’s way, A winter-blue, so sharp, so clear, It brands the eye, it lingers near, A trace no passing year can steal, A wound of light the soul must feel. They fell to knees on fragrant ground, Breathing time no herb had found, Scents more fierce than mortal art, Older than the songs of heart. The trees then sang from root to crown, With branches spread, their gold poured down, Like living metal, polished bright, Leaf and mirror catching light. Among white ore and emerald pale, One gem Aragorn could not fail, He took it soft—Elianor, A memory bound forevermore. Yet Frodo saw, for breath so brief, An echo carved in love and grief, Two lovers met beneath that sky, Though one was doomed to say goodbye. Arwen vanimelda… Namárië. #LOTR #CerinAmroth #Lothlórien #Aragorn #Arwen #Elanor #Niphredil #Mallorn #SacredPlaces #ElderDays #Namárië #MiddleEarth #Melancholic #FolkSong