Chapter Text
Galadriel was brushing her hair at her vanity table when Celeborn walked in and sat down at his. She heard the clink of removed braid-clasps.
“Well,” Celeborn said eventually. “It was nice to see Treebeard again, if only briefly.”
“Yes!” Galadriel smiled at this good, novel topic. “Shame that he is so unhappy, though.”
“He misses Fimbrethil.”
“Yes, evidently. Although… It is amusing, is it not? Remember how he used to grumble about her repetitive anecdotes?”
“Well, they did take a day or three to tell... Which might be too much even for an Ent, on the thousandth telling. Also… Did he not complain that they had both lost interest in… pollination?”
“Yes. But then, they had been married for a long time.”
Their eyes met. Galadriel saw Celeborn’s widen, and looked away quickly.
“Have you,” she said, “heard the poems he has written in her absence? They are rather fervent.” She set down her brush. “You know, Cirdan offered me a berth on the next boat to Valinor. I believe I shall accept.”
“I cannot possibly leave now. The woods--”
“I know.”
She knew she would not have to explain further. They had been married for a long time.