Holiday Party Instadrabbling by Lindariel

Galadriel dragged her eyelids open. True sleep came rarely to her in these days when she and Celeborn were so far apart, and every time she did sleep she dreamed of Ulmo and Tirion. The sea longing crested in her breast, dream Ulumúri still sobbing in her ears as she lay looking up at the interlaced mallorn branches above her flet, grey against the pale pink of sunrise.

It was too early to send for her morning tisane, but she felt herself hurtling toward a decision even without the stimulant to clear her head. Lórinand would be safe in Amroth's hands, but what of Celebrían?

She thought to Celebrían, "I must seek your father."

"It is a long journey," replied Celebrían, unsurprised.

"I like long journeys, and I need your father's counsel. And it will be pleasant to see the halls of Khazad-dûm again."

"May I come with you? For I would look upon Imladris."

"If you wish it, I would be glad of your company."

"Will you tell me about your travels before I was born?"

Galadriel paused for a moment. "Yes," she agreed, "it would be a good time for that."

"Excellent! Now would you like some tisane?"

Eärendil stood at the tiller, forgotten and unobligated for the first time since Vingilot had taken to the heavens. Far below, the choking black smoke was finally clearing as the Valar swept triumphantly into Thangorodrim to root out the Enemy. He would never have so open an opportunity again.

He turned Vingilot and sped away south, toward the Isle of Balar where Maglor had sent the twins at the outbreak of the War of Wrath. As he began to descend at the mouth of Sirion, he felt the hull scrape against empty air. Vingilot could no longer touch mortal lands.

The singing in the weaving room trailed off. I looked up at my mother to ask her why everyone had stopped; she was watching the door where my grandmother had just entered. Grandmother smiled, gesturing to everybody to take up their work again, and headed toward us. Trailing behind her were three Teleri I did not know. The tallest was younger than the others and looked curious, as if he'd never seen a loom before.

When Grandmother introduced the Teleri to Mother, I watched him. He paid no attention to Grandmother. Instead he touched the loom Mother was using to teach me, tracing the end of the reinforcing beam that ran behind the cloth beam. He murmured, to nobody save himself, "beech. Fine finishing, but it would look better with swan's heads here."

"And this is Teleporno," concluded Grandmother.

I touched the cloth brake and met his eyes. "Teleporno, I think it would be better if the swan's heads faced one another across the top of the loom. That way they could hold these brakes in their beaks."

"Yes," he said. "Both functional and beautiful. Who are you again?"

I thought, "he is more like a Noldo than a Teleri."

Ataryo, Teleporno and I have spent nearly a yén building Canyalqua and planning our exploratory voyage to the mortal lands. We are stocked, we are provisioned, and we were planning to seek our final, formal leave to voyage shortly. But now, with the Valar so set against the Fëanorian rebellion, we fear we would never receive the permission we seek. We will seek forgiveness later rather than petitioning in vain for permission now.

And further, if we do not cast off soon we run the additional risk of being boarded, losing both ship and all our work to Uncle's madness.

Chapter End Notes

Canyalqua is the swan ship from my story "Out of the Darkling West."

Celeborn rounded the corner into the corridor where Melian had lodged Finrod. It was nearly time for Lúthien's Begetting Day feast, and Melian had sent him to find Finrod. Otherwise, she had said, Finrod would sit in his room polishing up his newest harp piece until he missed the feast entirely. Celeborn could not understand why Melian should send him instead of Galadriel, but no one seemed to know where Galadriel was.

Ahead, the door to Finrod's suite stood ajar. As he got closer, he could hear Galadriel's voice.

"Brother," she said, "I do not know how to tell him. After so long a time of being best friends and traveling companions, I fear he can never see me as a lover."

"Have you considered simply blurting it out?" asked Finrod blandly.

"Well, no. It seems so..." she paused as Celeborn entered the room in a rush, not pausing until his arms were wrapped about her.

"Expedient?" supplied Finrod, archly this time.

As she returned his embrace she winked over his shoulder at Finrod, mouthing "thank you, brother."

From somewhere deep in the grottoes of Menegroth, Celeborn heard a nightingale's trill that turned into the whisper of a satisfied chuckle.

Chapter End Notes

Given the internal date of this fic, these names should be "Teleporno" instead of Celeborn, and "Alatáriel" instead of Galadriel.  Finrod's name should be different too.  But this is how I drafted it.