Celeborn watched his beloved wife closely from the shadows. Even in the poor light of the waning candles, she took his breath away. She appeared, wet. Her body glistening as she crossed the bedroom's threshold to gather the fluffy towel awaiting her atop their divan. She moved to take it, but her fingers never did touch the fabric.

Galadriel lifted her head and met his cool stare as his white figure cut through the darkness. He beckoned for her to abandon it and, "Come. Come here, wife."

"Are your intentions pure, husband?" she whispered, coming forward and wrapping her arms around the wide expanse of his shoulders. When he reached around and cupped her derriere and gave it a generous squeeze, she groaned lasciviously against his cheek. "Your touch has been greatly missed, Celeborn."

"It belongs to no one else." Reaching her shoulders, he continued upward until the fingers of one hand encircled the back of her neck. He squeezed tightly and forced her to look at him, "Can the same be said for you?"

Closing her eyes, Galadriel chose to focus on the pain and smiled. "What impertinent beasts men are… You alone seemed immune."

"I am true to only one woman; you, and yet I feel that you're heart no longer belongs to me." Celeborn released her and approached her gilded vanity, where she kept crystal bottles of pretty fragrances and embellishments wrapped in eggplant colored satin. Picking up a bundle, he unfolded the crisp creases to reveal a heavy crystal broach and eyed her from within the mirror. "Tell me, who bestowed upon you such a beautiful endowment?"

Galadriel's gaze narrowed. "You did."

"Oh." Tossing it carelessly on the table, he grabbed another and held it up without ever breaking her gaze, "And this one?"

"You did."

Bottles and jewelry toppled to the marble floors and shattered as he swept the table clean with one wide sweep of an arm. Celeborn surveyed the damage and turned to her without a hint of remorse, "The beauty of things, Galadriel, is how easily they can be replaced or discarded for new, more beautiful editions. A love like mine, however, is found only once and if carelessly discarded…never to be seen again." Sidestepping the remnants of moments spent together, he bid her a frosty good night and left her for his study. Moments later, a knock rippled through silence for which he left her and Galadriel opened the double doors to reveal his precious Marchwarden. It was at that moment that it all came into focus.

"Yes?" She purred darkly, pulling the door to a wider position to reveal just a bit more of her creamy flesh, or perhaps the cacophony behind her, to his studious gaze.

"My lady," he brushed past her and kneeling down, grabbed the defunct broach gingerly in one hand. Turning to her, he eyed her brusquely, "What happened?"

"Oh, don't trouble yourself, please. It was nothing." She casually lifted her hand to cut the air dismissively and there he noted the contrary.

Blood speckled the floor as she tried to hide it, but he grabbed her gruffly by the arm and forced her to show it to him. At the sight of the gash marring her beautiful palm, his demeanor softened and he shook his head. "How could he?"

"It was an accident, Haldir." She whispered in his defense, "It'll be all right now…"

"Accident or no, this is no way for a Lord to carry on in the presence of his Lady. I'll speak to him myself," he said. "You have my word, Galadriel."

"Very well, but address him tomorrow." Cradling her palm tenderly, she gestured for him to fetch a remedy from the bathing room as she poured them two glasses of her favorite wine. She smiled to herself, "You'll both need your rest for what awaits you."