"It's finished," Vairë commented casually to Námo, who froze.
"What's finished?" he asked warily.
"The tapestry I told you I was going to make," Vairë said innocently, "of you and Mairon and all the little fëar." Námo closed his eyes and bit back a groan.
"Did you have to make one of that?" he asked, a plaintive note in his voice that he wasn't quite able to suppress. Vairë nodded enthusiastically.
"Would you like to go see it?" she asked.
"No," Námo responded, but stood up anyway and followed his wife to her private office—at least few would see it there, the Vala thought morosely. But when Vairë opened the door and beckoned him inside, he paused in surprise. Rather than portraying him engaged in a game of catch-me, as he had feared, the large tapestry instead showed him smiling down in love and amusement at Mairon, who was breathless with laughter, the two of them surrounded by happy fëar.
It was a beautiful tapestry, but that was not why Námo looked intently at Vairë. This office and workshop was where Vairë recorded those scenes in Arda's history that were so dark that she allowed no one else to weave them. As soon as they were finished they were thrown into a pile against the wall, never to be looked at again. It was over this pile that Vairë had hung this tapestry of light and laughter.
Vairë met her husband's gaze squarely.
"It reminds me that even for those so heavily touched by Darkness, that love and happiness still exist," she said softly. Námo pulled her into his arms.
"Few realize how heavy a burden you carry, my love," he murmured into her hair.
"You carry one equally as heavy," Vairë said. "And that is why Atar gave us each other—to have someone to share it with."
"And I am so grateful that He did," Námo replied. "So very grateful."
So yes, this one references Reclamation fairly heavily. It also has a bit of reference to Recording History. What can I say. I love Námo/Vairë fluff!