Depicting the scene of Fingon before the Nirnaeth Arnoediad (Battle of Unnumbered Tears) when he marches to war. Seen in eyes of young Turin son of Hurin. I may have gone overboard with the description a little, but it doesn't matter.
He saw tall lords upon majestic horses, mail glittering like the sun on rippling water. Heads held high, spirits soaring, they march upon their steeds, towards battle. The points of their spears glistened and shone, their shields dazzled when the sun's rays hit. Tall and proud were the Elves under the High King, and strong and brave and hopeful.
Spears they held, and banners too. Bright blue banners under a blue sky, banners of the High King, of the renewed hope of the Noldor. And so they march, eyes ahead, dark hair flowing freely under their shining helms. Bright smiles on their flawless faces: smiles of hope, of the future, of an end to this war.
The vanguard passed, their banners fluttering in the breeze. Then came the main escort of the High King, taller and sterner than the others. They drew themselves up, proud and cold, but their faces reflected light and kindness. Leading them was the fairest and tallest of all: the King himself, sword buckled in at his waist, sharpened spear thrusted into the air triumphantly. Then in one flowing motion, he lifted a hand and tore his helm off, his long hair flowing freely in the breeze. His eyes shone with a fiery light as he looked towards the horizon.
A new day had come. And with it came a new hope.
So I wanted to depict a scene where Elves were... well, very obviously Elves. Not humans. I wanted to show them almost as angels, something higher than Men. Because in all honesty... that's what I see them as xD Comparing them to us is a bit degrading. For them.
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