She stepped outside of the house for a bit of fresh air, away from the uproarious singing and clamor within the cozy, boisterous home. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath of the salty mist, Galadriel glided forward, down the steps to the sandy path that would take her to the sea and its gentle waves.

A small pebble plunked down, seemingly from the sky. It landed in the sand by her feet. Turning slowly on her heel as a smile threatened to emerge, she bent gracefully at the knee and picked up the offensive object. Holding it in her palm, she craned her neck and stepped back, then pitched the stone up toward the chimney, where it rolled down the shingles and then stopped. Someone let out a quiet snort, and feeling very wicked now indeed, Galadriel picked up a slightly larger rock and tossed it up so that it would come down approximately where the other one had paused.

There was no worry that someone would be hurt, for she knew the culprit would scramble out of the way before the stone could hit him—which he nearly did. Instead, Erestor sat up and caught the rock. The exchanged pebble, now freed, rolled down off the roof.

“You are a naughty one,” she scolded, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Me? You meant to harm me; I was only teasing you.” Erestor tossed the rock up and caught it a few times. “Not your favorite type of music either, I gather.”

“There is something to be said about a witty song, but an entire evening of them does wear one thin, especially when one is the object of ridicule,” she explained.

Erestor gave her a sympathetic look. “Better to be ridiculed than hated, though. You must admit, the kinslaying does lend itself to some of the more creative limericks known to Valinor.”

With a frown and a pout, Galadriel said, “Get down from there. I will have such a mess to contend with if you fall.”

Chuckling, Erestor swung his legs over the side, preparing to jump, but Galadriel shook a scolding finger. “If no one else is allowed to do that, then neither are you.”

“You take all of the fun out of it,” he sighed, climbing back onto the roof.

“Poor you. Down the rope, like a civilized Elf.”

“Who wants to be civilized these days?” he bantered back, doing as she asked.

Once he reached the balcony, he went back into the house, and emerged a few moments later onto the porch. “They are singing something else.”

“Oh?”

“Something about a balrog, and I can only guess whom.” Erestor shuffled down the steps to the path and said, “As soon as I heard the B-word, I covered my ears.” He demonstrated for her as he approached, singing “La-la-la-I cannot hear the balrog song” as he did so, and as he likely had while walking outside.

Galadriel’s laughter was a delightful sound, and happy to have obliged, Erestor now proffered his arm. “’Tis improper for a lady to go walking by her lonesome at night.”

“Thank you.” Looping one arm under and around Erestor’s arm, Galadriel placed her opposite hand just above his wrist. “I was thinking of listening to the waves for a while.”

“I was thinking of accompanying you.”

“Yes, I thought as much.”

For a few seconds, they stood in the path, the faint traces of the music from within the house straining to reach them. Finally, Erestor asked, “Am I leading us or are you?”

Leaning her head upon his shoulder, she stepped closer. “You lead.” She sighed, relaxing, closing her eyes. “I am weary of it, for now.”

They came to the shore, just shy of the incoming tide. Every few steps, Galadriel leaned a little closer, and Erestor held her a little tighter. When they came to a spot where they could no long see the rocks of the cliffs on either side of them, where Tol Eressea was not in view and the moon shone over the water, high in the sky, he drew her in front and wrapped his arms around her waist while she leaned her back against his chest. “May I ask a question?” he pondered softly, trying not to break the peace of the moment.

“Any question you like. What sort of question?” she queried back as she closed her eyes and inhaled his scent, allowing herself to drift back to a time nearly forgotten. “Something ordinary, or something important?”

“Something important- to me, at least. You told me once, not so very long ago... you said you no longer love me, and never did. I have considered your words, and I oft wonder if you were telling me the truth or not.” Erestor’s voice was so low, so quiet, Galadriel had to strain to hear him over the sound of the shifting sand and the roll of the waves. For a moment, she thought he would not even ask what he wanted, but finally, he did. “Do you truly... have no love for me anymore, or ever?”

“I said that in a moment of confusion and anger,” she admitted. “I felt I could not be loyal to my husband, and at the same time have you hold a place in my heart. Now, however, I have come to realize that love is something more infinite than I used to believe it was.”

“It is a wonderful, limitless thing,” he agreed, sounding a bit distant and wistful.

“So in answer to your question, dear Erestor, no, I lied to you in a most terrible way. Though my love for you is not the same sort of love I have for Celeborn or for my children, there is still love, and always was.”

Erestor let out a relieved sort of sigh. “Thank you for easing my mind.” The taller elf rested his chin gently upon her shoulder and said, “I cannot help but think at times, if only we had met at some point later in our lives, what good friends we might have been. Instead of snide remarks to one another at the White Council, one of us might have sensed Saruman’s budding corruption before it led him astray.”

“There is a solution.”

“Hmm? And what would that be?”

“We simply start anew.”

Lightly, Erestor chuckled. “And how do you propose to put ten thousand years of history behind us?”

Galadriel shrugged, and then, slipped from his grasp and turned around. Taking hold of her dress, she very elegantly curtseyed and with a playful sparkle in her eyes, said, “How do you do?”

A small smile spread across Erestor’s face. He bowed in the appropriate manner, and repeated her greeting. “How do you do?”

“Very well, thank you,” she replied, gracefully holding out her hand. “I am called Galadriel.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.” Erestor took her hand, kissing the back of it gently. “I am Erestor, of Tol Eressea, though I make my home up on yonder cliffs,” he said, motioning in the general direction of the cottage. “Might I inquire, are you from these parts?”

“Aye, that I am, kind sir,” she said, and she herself inclined her head toward the brick house, the smoke from the fireplace billowing up from the chimney. “Since it is late, I should take my leave and journey home again.”

“Allow me to escort you home, good lady, for I would not wish for any ill to befall you.”

And so they walked to the house, chatting congenially about this and that, as if they had only just met upon the beach that night. They reached the door to find Celeborn, a bit concerned, standing on the porch. “Good eve, to you, m’lord,” said Erestor, bowing, and Galadriel practically giggled at the expression on Celeborn’s face to the odd greeting.

“Good eve... yes, it is... I...” Celeborn shook his head. “The party is dispersing, and I came to see where you were,” he said to his wife.

“I was only on the shore, taking in the view, when I met this kind fellow who offered to walk back with me. Darling, this is Erestor, he lives up yonder on the hill.”

“...yes,” said Celeborn hesitantly, “I am fairly certain we have met before.”

“It is indeed possible,” said Erestor, “for really, it is not all that large of an island. All the same, it is a pleasure to meet you, your lordship.”

Celeborn did not answer Erestor. Instead, he looked at his wife and asked, “Have the two of you been drinking?”

The pair laughed at Celeborn’s comment (which made him think that perhaps he had it right) and Galadriel responded with, “Nay, but that does sound a lovely idea. Erestor, would you care to come within and join us for a drink?”

“I would be delighted to, m’lady,” Erestor said as they entered the house, passing Orophin on the way.

Orophin waited until his mother and Erestor had gone inside before shaking his head. “And you call ME silly! Honestly, I shall never understand the quirks of Valinorin Eldar.”