Author's Note: A bit of light-hearted humour, written for a prompt on the Hobbit Kink Meme ( . ?thread=2797840#t2797840)

Lady Galadriel would usually fall into a quiet, contemplative mood after looking in her Mirror. Sometimes her face would shine with bliss, but at other times it would betray great sadness, and her husband didn't envy her the visions she saw. But this evening was different. After looking in the Mirror, she returned to him with a mischievous smile. He asked nothing. She sat beside him in silence, but after a while she looked at him again and burst into giggles.
Lord Celeborn sighed.
"What is it, Galadriel?"
"I saw something in the far, far future," she said. "Hundreds of centuries from now, long after our people leave and Men are left to rule Middle Earth alone, your Telerin name will have a most unfortunate meaning."
Celeborn wasn't too happy about this, but he couldn't resist asking.
"What will the meaning be?"
"How can I explain it?" Galadriel said and closed her eyes, as if taking a great effort to concentrate. But after a while she burst into giggles again.
Celeborn waited patiently. After a while she started speaking.
"In this distant future I saw, Men will be able to build contraptions of metal and glass that will allow them to see distant things, not unlike the Palantiri. But they will not be reserved for mighty kings and queens: it will be usual even for common folk to have one in their home. They will be called televisions."
Celeborn thought it didn't sound too bad so far. Galadriel continued:
"But, unlike with the Palantiri, the people will not be able to communicate through their televisions, just to watch whatever they are showing. Some of them will only show tidings of the great lords and military leaders. Other will show nothing but people singing and dancing all day."
"That sounds rather nice," Celeborn said.
"It does. But Teleporno..." She laughed again, and then composed herself. "Well, Teleporno would be the name for a television showing nothing but people coupling in various ways."
Celeborn buried his head in his hands.
"I'm sorry, but you wanted to know," his wife said gently.

As if that was not enough bad news for one evening, he soon learned that a group of eight strangers had entered the Golden Wood. To make things even worse, one of the strangers was a dwarf. He adamantly opposed allowing the dwarf to enter the wood, but Galadriel managed to change his mind - as usual. Her arguments were all perfectly sound:
"The grudge you bear is against the Firebeards, Celeborn, and there are hardly any Firebeards left in the world - the revenge of our own people was at least as cruel and bloody as the deed that provoked it. But this dwarf is a Longbeard, a descendant of Durin, and the Longbeards have never been enemies of the Elves."
She spoke in a calm voice and, much as he wanted to, Celeborn could find no fault in her arguments. Galadriel's logic was always so unyielding; he didn't know why he had even bothered arguing with her. He was bound to lose. It felt like being trampled over by an very gentle and tactful oliphaunt.

Perhaps it was the combined effect of finding out that his name meant an obscene Palantir and having to offer hospitality to a dwarf that he drank some wine before their guests arrived - perhaps just a little bit too much.
When the guests arrived he greeted Aragorn, son of Arathorn and Legolas, son of Thranduil with kindness, the dwarf with icy coldness and the rest of their company with indifference. As soon as he was able to, he made excuses and sat under a large mallorn tree a little bit apart from their guests, silver goblet in hand. Coincidentally - although it had by no means influenced his choice of seat - that was also where the barrels of wine were kept. The evening went on, becoming increasingly blurry.
At some point, Galadriel came to see how he was doing.
"You seem to have found a lot of common ground with our dwarf guest," he said accusingly.
"Gimli, son of Gloin is very gallant and noble," she said. "I wish you could see that."
Celeborn wanted to give a proud and dignified reply, so the words that came out instead surprised him. "I think you would like me better if I had a beard."
"You are really in a bad mood tonight, Celeborn! I already love you with all my heart." There was a mischievous look in her eyes. "But if you'd, perhaps, like to wear a false beard now and then..."
Celeborn glared at her until she went away.

The next person who came to join him by the barrels was, of all people, the dwarf.
"Is something troubling you, Lord Celeborn?" he asked in a slightly worried voice.
"Yes, I hate dwarves" would have been a truthful answer, but one that would break the laws of hospitality. "Nothing is troubling me, why do you ask?" was the answer he would have given had he been sober. The answer he actually gave was:
"Yes. I learned that my name has an absurd and obscene meaning."
The dwarf looked at him with surprise, and then narrowed his eyes in thought.
"I don't speak that many languages, my lord, but I don't know any language in which Celeborn would have an obscene meaning."
"Not Celeborn. My other name," Celeborn said and added in a sulky tone:
"I don't want to talk about it."
The dwarf didn't press him for an answer. Instead he said:
"I understand and sympathise, my lord. My grandfather's name was Groin."
Celeborn burst into laughter. The dwarf didn't seem to mind. He went on:
"You can imagine how everyone teased him because of it. And my father and uncle got their fair share of teasing, too. Whenever one of them introduced himself as 'son of Groin', someone would inevitably ask: 'Well, aren't we all sons of Groin?' believing it to be an incredibly original joke. It got really tiresome after a while."
Celeborn laughed again. Then he said:
"I like you. Come, sit here and drink with me."

After a while Lady Galadriel came to see if her husband was feeling well once again. To her great delight, she found him in a merry mood, drinking a toast to Durin the Deathless with Gimli son of Gloin.