Author's Note:  As usual, thoughts are in italics.  Tingalen's journal entries are bold italics.  Life can be difficult!

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The Harbor at the Grey Havens

Galadriel and her Celeborn strolled by the harbor in the beautiful twilight world they so loved.  They walked arm in arm and savored the moment that was now theirs alone. 

The wedding of their daughter Tingalen to Thranduil’s younger son had gone well. Small, tastefully appointed tables for the feasting, a select group of guests. Even Thranduil had behaved himself.

And, she had managed to do something with that impossible hair of her daughter and get her into a decent frock for a change. Tingalen had looked almost pretty. Galadriel was pleased.

She smiled at her husband Celeborn. His heart was still so heavy at losing his new daughter to another’s keeping, but Galadriel was patient with him and did love him even more for his tender heart.

They had just one or two more things to accomplish before they boarded the ship.

*****

". . .they robbed even Asfaloth of his bells?" Gently and with great sadness, the Lady of Light had imparted to the valiant warrior Glorfindel the terrible news as it had been revealed to her by Tingalen, her daughter.

It had not been easy to see this loved friend recoil at the evil she laid before him, and she had been glad that Celeborn, as ever through the ages, was beside her.

From her perch on a nearby rock, Tingalen watched as Celeborn caught Glorfindel as he staggered back under the weight of the news and duly noted down that: in the strength of Celeborn, Glorfindel recovered his own.

She’d been working on her style ever since Elrond had told her she wrote like a wharf rat, and that she could not chronicle the Eldar in such a low and demeaning way.

It was just that they all moved so fast that half the time she was lucky to just get the facts down. She’d clean her journal up before she let Elrond see it again.

Tingalen liked Elrond. Sometimes he seemed to be the only sane elf on the playing field. That statement often included her beloved and her new father and mother. Elves, as Gimli would say!

Although you couldn’t really tell with Celeborn, because you never knew exactly what he was really thinking. Those thousands of years with Galadriel probably taught him more than basic survival skills she thought.

This looks like trouble. Galadriel’s just told Glorfindel about the Ford of Bruinen scene. I knew she’d do that in the end. Never trust an elf-witch as me old mum used to say. Well, she would have said it if she’d ever known that there were elf witches. Or, if I really remembered me mum. I was only two months old after all.

Have to hand it to Galadriel, though, she’s got style and knows how to wear a frock. What she sees in me as a daughter I cannot fathom. Everyone tells me that Celebrían was fair beyond measure. If I survive New Zealand, must consult her on a makeover. This shieldmaiden wardrobe of Éowyn’s is just not me.

The populace seems to be aroused now and I’m not surprised. Glorfindel seems to be getting taller somehow (just what I need, a taller Glorfindel!) and---I just knew he was going to do this--he’s starting to glow.

No, that’s not even glowing anymore. They all do that. This is pretty weird. Looks like he’s standing in a klieg light almost. The Abomination would love this. That’s got the crowd’s attention. What are all those things they’re shouting? May be useful information.

She scribbled the words quickly as the crowd proclaimed:

Glorfindel, the last of the House of the Golden Flower!

Not surprised at THAT. Good thing he’s big and carries a sword if he’s going to be yelling that in the streets of Wellington.

Bane of the Nazgûl! Balrog Slayer!

I’d better find out what these Nazgûl and balrogs really are. Will ask Gilúviel tonight if I can get him to keep his hands off me long enough. I thought the Abomination had made them up, but these guys are all always going on about them, so they must be around somewhere, and they’re a big deal. With my luck, I’ll probably run into one in New Zealand, and it would be good to know what I’m up against. Meant to ask Legolas but was distracted by that spider. Yeeech!

Wouldn’t want to put my foot into it again by asking Glorfindel directly. Bad enough moment when I asked Elrond if he’d never thought of remarrying after Celebrían.

Tingalen winced at the memory of the glare Elrond had sent her way as he coldly informed her that the Eldar married for eternity.

How was I to know? Look, the divorce rate I’m used to is through the roof! Eternity--who would ever have thought!

Lucky Galadriel was consulting her Mirror at the time as I don’t think I could have ducked both of them at once. I hope this elven thing gets easier now that I’ve married Zip. . .Gilúviel. Tingalen smiled. She did so like elves, even the blond ones.

*****

The horror of Galadriel’s words seeped deep into Glorfindel’s very soul and permeated his being.

He lifted his golden head and gave a mighty cry of battle. "Forth, the House of the Golden Flower!" he bellowed and charged down toward the great ship wherein rode the Mary Sues.

Such was his fury that he almost knocked Círdan into the sea, but caught himself in time and jumped over him instead. This startled the old elf mightily, but left him essentially intact.

It was not wise for even a warrior such as the mighty Glorfindel to raise the ire of Círdan. One never knew when one might have need of a ship.

Tingalen grabbed up her backpack and notebook and ran after Glorfindel, turning as she ran to look back at the the fair elves of the Havens as they raised their long hands in salute to the voyagers.

Frantically, she tried to scribble a phonetic transcription of "Námarië" as she ran. Thus occupied, Tingalen did not notice Círdan until she barreled into him and heard the splash of the sea as its arms covered him.

Quickly, Tingalen dived into the hold, mumbling something to Aragorn and Legolas about checking on the Mary Sues with Éowyn.

Please, Eru, don’t let Gil-Galad have seen that! We’re just starting to get friendly! I’ll be back to Square One! Tingalen decided she would stay below deck for a bit.

*****

Serene and gentle, Galadriel lay her arm on that of her husband as they stood together as of old in Doriath. "Celeborn?"

He inclined his silver head to her golden one. "My love?"

"Think you it would be an excess if we just mentioned to Gil-Galad that his part at Dagorlad was reduced to five seconds of an extra holding a spear? So little respect for the last High King of the Noldor!" Tears glistened in Galadriel’s fair eyes.

"It is a course that we shall ponder together, my love, as we sail with him." Celeborn extended his arm to her and protected her path as they returned to the quayside. They nodded courteously to the still dripping Círdan and boarded his ship.

And Celeborn the Wise knew again his good fortune that the Lady of the Galadhrim had always loved him.

Thus Endeth Part the First
of the Tale of the Wood-Elf and his Revenge