The sun was warm, not hot, but warm. The clouds drifted aimlessly through the light blue sky. Little birds of all colors shapes and sizes flew to a willow tree, where they sat over looking a small pond. Water lilies of different shapes and colors drifted on the glassy surface. Some white, some pink, and a few so pink they were red. A few little fish resembling koi swam about under the plants.

A rock,  a small smooth river stone hopped across the water. It skipped over the floating flowers until it hit the mirror like surface and sunk below. The fished scattered from the stone that went skimming across the water, the birds few higher, and the lilies sat floating upon the surface.

The man who had thrown the stone sat on the brink of the pool. He rolled a second stone in his fingers, turning it and flipping it over and over again. He watched rock that slipped in and out of his fingers. The man smoothed his fingers over the stone before turning his eyes back to the pond.

With a flick of the wrist the second stone skimmed the water much like the first. The fish once again ran, the birds went even higher, and the lilies sat, much like the man throwing stones. The rock disappeared into the water, leaving the man with no more stones to flick across the water.

The man watched his reflection in the water as the birds sung. He looked himself over with a critical eye. Running his gaze over all of the features he could see in the water. Looking at all of the imperfections. It was like a never ending staring contest between a man and a mirror.

Even after throwing all of the stone he had brought the man rubbed his fingers together as if there was one there. Rolling his thumb and index finger around, rubbing them together in a slow motion as he watched the other end of the pond with interest.

One of the many lilies on the surface of the water floated over the glassy surface to the man. It bumped into the toe of his boots. 

He looked down in surprise, never seeing the lily float over to his side. Studying it with curious eyes, but not touching it.  It was so beautiful, so graceful, so peaceful. Much like with the stones the man reached down and rubbed the petals of the lily in between his fingers.

Velvety. Soft. Smooth. Like something that someone would dream of curling up in. Such a light color of pink. Pale, pastel, light pink. Such a good color.

So beautiful.

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Well, here is the prologue to the sequel. No doubt people will realize that I'm not giving much of the plot away in these. (well, the last one was the whole premise of the story....)

Oh well. I think I'll write the 1st Chapter tonight as well, because I really want to start this again. I <3 Elrond/Glorfindel. I can't be the only one!

~Megan