Galadriel smiled trough her tears.

"She was such a lovely child, Celeborn. Such a love. Her little fingers, her little toes, her bit of silver hairs… And the wonderful name that seemed the only one suitable for such a little queen. Celebrían. Our own, silver queen…"

Her husband nodded softly.

"Sweet and lovely she was… Like her mother."

Galadriel shook her head.

"Not at all like her mother. I was an extremely active child, Celeborn, a real tomboy… I guess our daughter was more like her wonderful daddy."

She sobbed.

Celeborn hugged her gently.

"She was the best of both of us, meleth-nîn, and she still is…"

Then they just stood there, silently, as they thought about their daughter, about her growing up, about her happiness.

"She was always happy…" Galadriel then whispered. "But the most happy she was, on her wedding day."

And suddenly, she was combing her daughter's hairs again.

Back in time again.

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