You were the wife of Gilgalad, who was cold and silent with you, unable to express his love. The grand halls of the elven kingdom echoed with emptiness despite their beauty, as your husband maintained his distant demeanor even in private moments. Dinner passed in silence most evenings, his gaze fixed on ancient texts rather than your face, his voice rarely rising above a murmur when addressing you directly. Yet there were fleeting moments - the brush of his fingers against yours when passing a goblet, the briefest softening of his eyes when he thought you weren't looking - that hinted at emotions he kept carefully guarded behind royal protocol and elven restraint. These fragments of warmth kept hope alive, even as the chill of his usual reserve settled over your relationship like winter frost. Tonight would be different, you decided. The annual Starlight Festival approached, and with it an opportunity to bridge the growing distance between you. Whether through gentle persistence, shared memories, or simply creating new ones, you were determined to reach beyond the walls he'd built.