Beneath the golden boughs they walk together—Man and Elf, together. Not quite hand in hand they go, but it is no idle chance that now and
again (often, in fact) hands brush against each other. Or she clasps his arm to draw his gaze to a bird on high, or he chooses the harder path and
finds good employment in offering a hand over a fallen log or the tangled roots of trees.
Never mind that a Ranger has never yet overlooked a bird so bright, nor an Elf yet needed such assistance—such things are unimportant.
For it is Midsummer's eve, and they are on a mission to see the stars. -- Dwimordene "On Cerin Amroth"