Second Age, 3321
'What do you desire, lady? You have but to name it, if it be anything within the power of the folk of Imladris to grasp, and it shall be yours.'
They stood amid the beeches beneath the gardens of Elbereth, a maiden like the herald of day, and a lord of the deepest twilight. Celebrían, daughter of Galadriel, smiled radiantly, but the fears and sorrows of these darkening days were written deep within her eyes.
'You ask my desire, Peredhil, and I shall answer,' she said; 'but it is not in the power of the folk of Imladris to grant it. I desire peace: an end to the war that has not even begun and an end to the darkness that none can destroy. I desire the freedom to live out the ages of the world in a land hidden from waters and evil and grievous tidings. I desire children, and so I must needs desire a mate. And...' Here she smiled merrily, and a light crackled in her eyes like sparks of mischief. 'And I desire to hear the tale of Lúthien Tinúviel as it was told in the ancient days—and as it was told long years ago when first this haven was founded.'
New joy was born in Elrond's heart at these words, such as he had not felt since the first whispers of gathering gloom in the south-east, and almost the weight of cares was lifted from his shoulders.
'That at least I may grant, lady,' said he, and his spirit sang. There, seated on the dew-jewelled grasses, they passed all the long hours of the night, walking together in the lands of the world that was lost to time and to the Sea—a world that Celebrían had never know.
As dawn broke over the eastern hills and the mountains burned with its light, the tale as it had been told of old was ended, and the teller fell silent.
Then Celebrían sighed in contentment. 'And you, Peredhil?' said she at last. 'What do you desire?'
And Elrond Half-elven looked upon her as she glowed in sunlit glory, daughter of queens and lady of the Noldor, and he could not speak, but the maiden gazed through his grey eyes and read what was written upon his heart.