“I see our son-in-law has used Vilya to cause the upper reaches of Bruinen to freeze over,” said Lord Celeborn to his Lady, who was still luxuriating in bed. 

“Did he now?” she replied with a smile.  “Then I suppose you should meet him and Glorfindel at the waterfall like you promised.”

Celeborn would have much preferred staying here with his wife in her flimsy evening gown to venturing out into the snow and ice which Elrond had allowed to accumulate in Imladris this winter.  “They gave me these,” said Celeborn holding up a pair of ice skates.  He had a doubtful look on his face. 

“I have skated before,” replied the fair Galadriel.  “And I was quite good, too!”

“Then, would you care to join us?” he inquired hopefully.

“No,” she smiled, “but, I will be waiting for you in the Hall of Fire with strong drink in hand when you return.”  She arose from the bed and kissed her husband.  “Have fun!” she said.

“Hmmph” he answered.

***

“Well, old friend, let us see you match this!” challenged Elrond.  He then proceeded to skate down the nearly sheer face of the frozen waterfall on one foot.

“Child’s play, Master Elrond,” laughed Glorfindel.  The flaxen Elf duplicated the feat, but he skated down backwards.  When he reached the base of the fall, he folded his arms and smiled broadly at Elrond who sighed and rolled his eyes.  Then they both noticed Celeborn, still standing far above wearing an uneasy expression.

“Join us, father-in-law,” called Elrond.

Celeborn gingerly tested the edge of the ice-slide with one foot and thought, ‘And this is why people question my being called Celeborn the Wise’.  Before he had fully committed to the attempt, he found his feet slipping down the steep incline.  He threw his upper body forward trying to balance his weight.  He was at the bottom of the fall now, but he had no idea of how to stop himself. 

Glorfindel and Elrond exchanged a knowing glance as the Lord of Lorien continued to skate toward them at an ever accelerating pace.  His robes were flying behind him (he was over-dressed for skating) and a look of abject terror was on his face.  Elrond and Glorfindel each put out a hand and caught Lord Celeborn by his upper arms.  As they did so, they noticed that his eyes were roughly the size and shape of soft-boiled eggs and it required all their collective willpower not to burst out laughing.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with the two Rivendell Elves daring each other to attempt ever more foolhardy stunts and Celeborn sitting under a tree on the bank of the river.  From time to time Glorfindel or Elrond would try to coax him back out onto the ice and he would smile faintly and wave at them as if they were precocious children -- which in a way, he supposed, they were.

That evening, good as her word, Galadriel was waiting for her husband in The Hall of Fire with a large goblet of mulled wine.  “I take it the skating did not go as planned?” she inquired. 

“Well,” said Celeborn, “if their plan was to embarrass me, then it went exactly as planned.”

“Oh, dearest,” she said sympathetically, placing her hand upon his cheek.  “Elrond and Glorfindel are here now, along with nearly everyone else.  Let us demonstrate for them something I know you excel at.”

“Galadriel!” he gasped. “I am astonished!”

“Why, Celeborn I was merely suggesting we dance.  What were you thinking?”

The End