Author'snote:Hi there you good eggs! It's been a while :D Hope you've all been fine and are drinking your fluids! Adult content in the first part of this chapter, otherwise it's the usual business for Rhodri. Thanks for stopping by and for being you! :) :)

Perhaps one of the nicest things about being able to teleport places is the fact that when you're on a long road trip with young children, you can simply… end the journey the moment they start getting antsy.

And thank Ilúvatar for that, because as we said our goodbyes and left Formenos to return to Alqualondë (Galadriel was waiting for us, after all), my patience was being tested just a tad. Which is to say if I heard one more "Are we there yet?" in those beautiful, cherished, and nerve-janglingly squeaky little voices, I may have actually excused myself to have my own heel-drumming tantrum on the side of the road.

After a succession of some twenty-six zaps (the horses came separately), we were home safe and sound. Gloredhel and Galwen, bless them, kidnapped the children for some long-overdue grandparents' time, and Glorfindel and I wandered on the beach for a while, enjoying the feeling of sand between our toes again. Life was good.

There was one thing that was getting up my nose a little, though, which had occurred to me as we ambled along the shore. I'm not sure what it was that prompted it. Maybe my brain had been simmering about this without me knowing. Or perhaps gnawing thoughts are more inclined to infiltrate your head when they see you looking happy. Hard to say, really.

I decided it was probably both when I stole a look at Glorfindel. At the risk of outing myself as some kind of sentimentalist, I got another one of those abnormal heart rhythms when I did. It skipped one or two beats as I drank in his contented face, his eyes off somewhere in the distance and a tiny smile curving up his lips. He was mostly silent, simply enjoying the moment, but occasionally, his totally unguarded, uncurated thoughts would wash into my head.

Mmm, the sand is soft...

Stroke my hand a little more with your fingers, beloved…

Whatever a springboard is, I want one. One with much spring in it.

That happened a lot between us, but my thoughts had been taken up with Irmo's mission over the last while, and I found myself feeling uncomfortable that such an enormous thing had to be kept secret from him.

I bit back the urge to curl my lip in frustration. Though having no secrets is not a prerequisite for a happy, healthy relationship, it was a feature of ours. The only things we kept from each other were the secrets of friends and clients. The more I thought about what Irmo was asking me to hide from Glorfindel, the worse I felt. Even if it was the will of a Vala, it was dishonest and not how I wanted to be.

"Rhodri?"

My head gave an involuntary jerk as my little thought-bubble burst and I came back to the Land of the Living. I looked over at him and saw him smiling with gentle inquisitiveness.

"Does something trouble you, my love?"

I chuckled mirthlessly. "To be honest, yes, I do have something on my mind."

A stab of guilt went through me as he watched me, his expression tinged with concern now. Glorfindel stopped us and turned to face me, our feet slowly sinking into the wet sand all the while.

"It seems like something has been bothering you since that last memory came to the fore," he murmured softly.

"Caught out," I mumbled. Another rueful laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. You're no fool, my love.

"Tell me about it?"

I shook my head. "I wish I could, believe me. Unfortunately, I am forbidden for now. If I had my way, either both of us would know, or neither would."

Glorfindel rubbed my hand reassuringly. "So it is Ainu business? Not to worry. The Eldar cannot be privy to all of your affairs."

I scowled. "There should not be a difference in power between us in our own marriage."

He shrugged a little. "The way I see it, it is simply a difference in duties. Another job of yours that requires confidentiality. Whatever it is, you will handle it with your usual humour." He gave a chuckle. "How fortunate that my own work does not oblige me to keep my mouth shut. I am not sure I would be as good a secret keeper as you."

That was no understatement. I've never met someone who was so unable to keep things to himself as Glorfindel. If there were an annual prize for Most Accomplished Blurter, Glorfindel would have rattled off the same acceptance speech every year for a solid two Ages at least. It was only thanks to his sweet nature that he wasn't the town gossip, really.

I snorted and led us back into a walk, substantially lighter now.

"So I recently heard tell that you want a springboard, beloved…"

§

When we arrived back at the house, I caught sight of Galadriel doing that mysterious appearing act that she was so wont to do, right outside my office. Her expression was like glass: Smooth. Impenetrable. Kind of shiny when the light hit her the right way. I shot her the tiniest look to confirm I had indeed noticed her being a Woman of Mystery®️ and followed Glorfindel into the house.

"Beloved," I said to Glorfindel as we wound our way up to our quarters "I find myself faced with a bit of a conundrum."

He turned to look at me. "Oh?" he asked, stopping at the top of the stairs and scanning my face with concern. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh yes," I said reassuringly. I took him by the hand and led him into our quarters, closing the door behind me. "This is a highly pleasant conundrum, be assured. Much nicer than the one on the beach."

"Tell me?"

"Well, you see, I need to go to my office very soon, as I have some urgent things to attend to, but you, unconscionably wicked spouse that you are, seem to be even more dangerously appealing today than you were yesterday." I squinted at him in playful reproach, and he got a proper blush on him.

"Ooh!" he cooed delightedly, his generous mouth in a broad smile as he bit his lip. "My goodness, anyone would think I'd committed a crime and you were about to punish me."

My mind darted back to a film scene I had once walked past depicting a rather explicit BDSM theme, and I couldn't help but marvel at Glorfindel's innocence. A punishment for him was getting him to the brink of release but not letting him finish once or twice. I'd never had it in me to tell him that there were people out there somewhere, head to toe in leather, handcuffed to the bed, lovingly (and consensually, of course) flogging each other with riding crops or barking orders in a way that would have quickly reduced a sensitive soul like him to tears. For all his open-mindedness, he was rather reserved in the kink field, and I felt reasonably sure that had I told him about people getting their jollies in such a manner, he would have assumed I was joking.

Bless you, Glorfindel. Bless your stripy cotton socks.

I forced that train of thought to crash before a fit of the giggles seized me, and disguised any amusement I might have had with a coy smile.

"That could be true." I shrugged and pulled him close to me, moving my face near enough that our lips brushed as I spoke. "Or I could just be of a mind to see how much pleasure I can give my husband in the space of five minutes." I raised my eyebrows. "Provided it is agreeable to him, of course."

Glorfindel's breath snagged. His eyes sparkled with vigour and anticipation, hands running up and down my waist as he nodded quickly.

"Magnificent," I murmured, tilting my jaw slightly so that my lips pressed gently against his. I fed my hands into his robes and beneath his tunic, slowly grazing the small of his back with my nails.

He shivered lightly and his back arched to make his torso rub against mine. Encouraged, I kissed a trail up his jaw and stopped at his ear while one of my hands teased the rapidly growing bulge in his pants.

"You are a delight, my love," I crooned softly, kneading the sensitive spot above his rump with my thumb. Glorfindel gave a small moan as I unlaced his pants and slipped my hand into his underwear. "Mmm! And already so hard for me…"

I started working him in quick, long strokes, my insides thrilling when he gasped onto my neck. That noise was gorgeous. Hard exhale, air catching a little at the end as he drew the tiniest breath. Automatically my favourite sound.

He snagged a finger into the top of my breeches, working the laces loose, only to pause when I issued a soft 'Ah-ah.'
"Pay me back later," I murmured, giving him one last kiss before sinking to my knees. In one easy motion, I took him in my mouth, slowly laving him with my lips and tongue.

Glorfindel's breath snagged. His fingers threaded through my hair, curling just enough to gain purchase.

"Oh, Rhodri," he whimpered as I picked up the pace, incorporating my hands to switch between grasping his shaft tightly and rubbing his head with my palms when I moved my mouth away. He writhed a little, mewling throatily, and in the corner of my eye, I could see him bracing himself against the wall behind him with a splayed hand.

I couldn't help but groan a little in delight. He was so deliciously expressive, unabashed in broadcasting his pleasure to me, and it made my groin throb just shy of painfully. Later, I told myself, returning my focus to the moaning Elf-man I had pinned against the wall with my mouth.

His noises grew erratic and scrambled, and his fingers pulled a little at my hair as his grip tightened. He seemed to be exercising as much control as he could as he rolled his hips to meet my mouth halfway, biting down on his lip hard and gasping roughly.

"Don't stop," he panted, thrusting faster. "Stay with me."

I hummed in agreement, feeling him start to expand a little in my mouth. Any second now…

Sure enough, his breath hitched, and his fist balled up in my hair.

"Please," he sobbed. Knowing what he wanted, I squeezed his shaft and worked it rapidly, my mouth focused entirely on his head- something that invariably tipped him over the edge.

His body froze; a loud, crystal-clear cry reached my ears as hot, salty spend gushed into my mouth and down my throat. With a small chuckle, I pulled away and kneaded his twitching legs with my thumbs until his breathing evened out again.

"Hah," I got to my feet, watching him with satisfaction. "I think we managed that with one minute to spare."

Glorfindel said nothing, his back slumped against the door and knees ever so slightly buckled as he cleared a couple of sweaty strands of hair out of his face. After hitching his pants back up, he gave me a lopsided grin and pulled me into a kiss.

"That was… I… ah…" he mumbled, looking as silly as a two-bob watch.
"Right, time for you to sleep it off," I said crisply.

I took off his robe and hung it up on the hook behind him, and scooped him up in my arms. The giggly, dozy mess of an Elf that he was, he lay there placidly, allowing himself to be carted into our room and carefully deposited onto the bed.

"Night-night," I said with a grin. I gave him a cheery wave and made tracks for my office, where Galadriel was sure to be loitering somewhere far away enough that she did not appear to be waiting for me.

Naturally, she was down by the sea again, and after she saw me and gave me her Mysterious Smile of Mystery, I went inside and pretended to not be waiting for her. Truth be told, I rather enjoyed her strange little mannerisms; a boring person Galadriel was not.

As I sat at my desk, strumming lazily on my guitar, I pondered what sort of a person she was like at home, behind closed doors. Did she communicate with Celeborn with very subtle gestures? Did one blink mean yes, and two blinks mean false alarm, I'm just blinking? Did Celeborn distinguish himself from other potential suitors by being the only person able to decrypt her non-verbal missives?

And what of her daughter? How must it have been to have a mother like Galadriel? Celebrían seemed to be a rather shrewd judge of character, perhaps not to the same degree as her mother, but still very impressive. Was that innate, or had she spent the first years of her life walking on eggshells as she tried to decode all of Galadriel's signs, all the while pushing the limits to see what she could get away with in that way children do?

What interested me most about Galadriel was the way she appeared to be under the impression that her method of communication was perfectly straightforward and normal, a laughable thought when you looked at how nearly anyone else in Arda got their message across. Much in all as I enjoyed a good puzzle, I was in no doubt that Galadriel frustrated and confused many with her cryptic manner. My big question for myself was: was it by accident or design that she acted this way? That was the first step to working out a way forward, I decided, as our communication style often underlies a lot of other behaviours, such as how we interact with others- estranged husbands, among others.

As if by magic (it probably was, in hindsight), Galadriel appeared in the doorway and smiled at me. I looked up from my guitar.

"Ah, Galadriel. Lovely." I smiled and invited her in. "Do please come in." Setting my guitar down, I filled a glass of water for her and opened her file, which had been sitting in front of me.

Galadriel nodded graciously, closing the door behind her and taking her seat.

"Now, let's see, I'd guess it's been nearly, what, two months since our last appointment?" I paused as I went to count back on my fingers but quickly decided to skip it lest Galadriel take it as an opportunity to divert the topic. "How have things been?"

She drew in a deep breath so slowly that she practically could have scanned each individual particle as it entered her nostrils, and shrugged.

"Little seems to have changed overall," she said off-handedly. "Alqualondë is peaceful enough. My daily routine has not varied."

I nodded. "What about your thoughts and feelings? Has there been anything different happening there?"

Galadriel's shoulder jerked almost imperceptibly, as though she were trying to shoo a fly but had thought better of it before she could follow through. She stayed silent for a few moments, her face stirring a little before it stilled again.

"Yes," she said simply.

"So what sort of changes have you noticed?"

"I feel… worse."

"Tell me about it?"

Galadriel's gaze on me became sharp. "You ask a lot of probing questions, Rhodri," she said defensively.

I blinked. It was going to be one of those sessions again. "Yes, that does seem to happen a lot in my job. To be fair, though, I require rather in-depth information to be able to assist, and if you don't straight-out give it to me, I do have to ask for it."

The answer didn't satisfy Galadriel in the least. She knew all of what I said already. And she knew what I was about to say, too.

"Now, you know, of course, that I won't ever ask you for anything you don't want to give, but you might want to consider if you're ready for therapy yet, if you're finding it too hard to open up to me."

Her eyes flickered up to me, revealing a set of narrow pupils. She was frightened.

I smiled reassuringly. "My office is always open to you, Galadriel. You can come back whenever you feel more ready."

"I… am not sure what it means to be ready," she uttered softly.

"Let me give you an analogy: there's a knot in your hair, and it's pulling painfully. You take a comb to start working it out, but the comb pulls and hurts even more than the knot does. As time goes on, more and more hair might get tangled in it, making the knot bigger."

"The knot is my issue, and you're the comb, I take it?" Galadriel said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yes, but that's not the real takeaway here," I shook my head. "The point is that you're put off from using the comb because it is more painful than the knot itself- for now. You can decide to put up with the discomfort of using the comb now, or you can let the knot stay there. It might stay the same size, or it might continue to gather more hair into itself until the pain is so bad that you'd be willing to comb it out if it meant you got some relief." I held up my hands. "Most problems are like that. Not all, but enough that it's the majority. What do you think of that?"

Galadriel twitched one shoulder as if she were shooing a fly. "I do not know what to think."

"Then perhaps the most pertinent question I can ask is: what benefits do you think await you by delaying, or even rejecting therapy?"

Now, anyone who had spoken even for a few minutes with Galadriel was aware that the woman was no slouch in the intellectual department. If anything, she was very apt at keeping up the appearance that she had all the answers. And that was probably why I had to conceal my surprise as her face suddenly took on a very animated expression. Her lips pouted and eyes squinted almost comically. Is this what it looks like when the hamster starts running on the wheel with you, Galadriel? I wondered to myself.

My unprofessional train of thought was rightly de-railed when Galadriel spoke again.

"None come to mind."

"Do you feel like anything is holding you back from participating fully in these sessions?"

I had fully expected her to stiffen, perhaps take offence, but she surprised me again by assuming that pensive expression of hers.

"Mmm," she said eventually.

"Tell me about it?"

"It…" she chewed on her lip. "It is strange to think that I am even reluctant. I have been nothing if not a figure of controversy for much of my life; speaking my mind should be of little consequence to me, especially given how harmless you are. But that image does come at a cost."

I bit my cheek to stifle a delighted laugh. Being called 'harmless' tickled me pink.
"What sort of things do you feel it has cost you?"

"You know what it is to be immensely powerful, Rhodri," Galadriel said, eyeing me like I was being wilfully ignorant now. "Gains of strength or wisdom or influence invariably make one more vulnerable as well. To be what we are is to be subjected to far more intense scrutiny and invasion than others."

"It's true that we're watched more closely, yes," I agreed with a nod. "So tell me about how that heightened scrutiny and invasion impacts you when you're here in these sessions."

She focused her gaze on something behind my head, looking near me but not quite into my eyes as her expression hardened into something completely impenetrable.

"It still feels too dangerous to let my guard down."

"What do you feel could happen if you were to drop that barrier with me as your psychologist?"

Galadriel's shoulders gathered up around her ears, staying there a moment before she dropped them again.

"I do not know," she uttered softly.

That is a very sensible thing to be afraid of. The unknown is the sort of thing that keeps just about anyone awake at night if they let it. It's why people don't like the dark, and feel nervous about the future, well. Who knows what's out there? Is it great? Is it terrible? Are the worst-case scenarios we cook up in our heads truly the worst case, or are they dwarfed by something that is so unspeakably bad it's beyond imagination?

That this came from Galadriel is even more believable. With world-wide consequences had she entrusted information to the wrong individual, it was hardly a wonder that Galadriel had deep reservations.

"Let's look at that a little closer," I suggested. "But with our goals and limits in mind. Now, I know I suggested that you try therapy and then I show Celeborn your progress, but at the end of the day, you decide how much you divulge to me. There's only so much I can help if I don't have the information I need, but if we can make more detailed goals, we might find that I need not be involved all that much. You know yourself and Celeborn better than I do, after all."

Galadriel's gaze rested on me, calmer but no less scrutinising. One long finger silently tapped the arm of her chair.

"How do we begin, then?" she asked after a moment.

I smiled and twirled my pen in my hand with a small flourish. "If I can make a suggestion, we might try working backwards. The end goal is to be reunited with Celeborn, yes?"

"Mmm."

I took a clean sheet of paper, wrote 'reunited with Celeborn' at the top, and tapped the half-dry ink with one finger. "We start here. Now, I presume that he will need to come to Valinor for this to happen, is that right? No chance of you going back to Arda?"

The colour started to drain from Galadriel's cheeks, but the equanimous smile she'd summoned stayed in place. She confirmed that there was no such option; I wrote 'Valinor only'.

"Now, this is where we have several options. Depending on how amenable Celeborn is to reconciliation, and what precisely he feels he needs to be able to reconcile, we might have our work cut out for us, or this could be quick and relatively easy."

She ran her finger around the rim of her glass and took a small, pecking sip of water. "Let us begin with the easiest option. Which is…?"

I shrugged. "I relay a message on your behalf and let him do what he wants with it."

This was acknowledged with a nod.

"If you think he might want more than an apology, or proof of personal growth, that you can keep to a letter, then we might have to scale things up. We can establish what you'd like to work on and have some therapy on that, and I can note the observations on your personal growth on that. We can look at them together and, subject to your approval, I can pass those on to him."

Galadriel frowned softly. "What might we 'work on,' as you put it?"

"Mmm, we'd need to talk more to establish that, but usually marriage counselling focuses on how you communicate with each other, managing emotions, and how you resolve conflicts."

She snorted. "I have been a diplomat most of my life, kept my temper under control, commanded armies. Kept the heart of Lothlórien beating, wielded Nenya."

I nodded. "You also frightened the wits out of Sauron, I'm told, but I don't know that marriage need be looked at as a war to be fought or a beast to be wrangled. Have you got any experience in gardening?"

Galadrield's face went blank. "... Some, yes."

"Yeah. More like a garden. Tend it, water it. Monitor the leaves for signs of illness, remove the weeds, prune back any sickly looking parts. Enjoy it, reap what it yields. That sort of thing."

I couldn't believe I was being that person, making metaphors out the wazoo. That really should be outlawed. Still, though, Galadriel hummed thoughtfully upon hearing it.

"I had always viewed it as more of a dance, Rhodri, to be honest with you," she murmured. "Careful navigation, passion, avoiding missteps. Practicing."

My office was turning into a metaphor free-for-all, and I did not appreciate that.

"Quite right," I conceded, praying that was the end of it. "It's your marriage. Maybe that's what works best. If you, or we, do a little more digging, we might find it's both, or neither."

"Hmm. And do we have other options?"

I chewed my cheek. "Well, the only other thing that occurs to me at the moment is a middle-ground, where you and I create a treatment plan for the both of you to start when Celeborn arrives, assuming he accepts your request."

Oho. That got her interested. Galadriel was hardly slouching, but she definitely straightened up in her seat.

"I could submit the letter, along with a proposal for something we pursue together here. Yes…" she nodded, rather more fervently than one would expect from someone like her.

"Sounds like we've found a way forward, then." I smiled.

Galadriel smiled back– serenely, of course. "I think this is the way, Rhodri, yes."

"Right. Well, how about we step back for a few weeks, let's say three, and you can start pondering what you'd like to pursue. I'm going to set you some homework…"

She hissed a small laugh out through her nose.

I chuckled. "Yes, yes, always with the homework. I'd like to get an idea of what you think needs work in your marriage. I'm going to write you a small list of topics that I've worked on with other couples, and I want you to consider how relevant these are to you."

I pulled out another piece of paper and wrote: speaking kindly; speaking openly; apologising; being considerate of the other's needs; reciprocity; sex; expressing affection; making yourself understood; consent.

"Let's start with these," I said, holding the list out to her. "Keep in mind that lcan also address things that aren't on here, if you think of anything else. It would be helpful if you're willing to at least mention which of the things on the list you'd like to pursue, and any off-list things that come to mind, but at the very least, make it clear for your own reference."

Galadriel nodded and took the paper, folding it carefully and pocketing it. "Yes," she said thoughtfully. "I shall." She rose from her chair with enough grace to shame a prima ballerina, and fixed me with a regal smile. "Until then, Rhodri."

"Catch you later, Galadriel." I waved and watched her leave my office, and once her file was away and the office secured, I stepped outside into the fresh air. The afternoon breeze was positively balmy, just enough to whiffle a strand or two of hair. I stood there for a moment, drawing in a few lungfuls of the clear, salty air.

And then, when I remembered that a certain nude spouse awaited me to continue all sorts of misbehaviour, I high-tailed it back to Glorfindel's and my quarters.