Doriath has the most incredible gardens Artanis has ever seen, even more so than Valinor. She takes to walking in them daily, and in practice spends much of her time under their leafy shade. Sometimes, she walks alone, but often, she walks with Lúthien, or sometimes Melian.

As her stay in Doriath lengthens, she begins walking with Celeborn.

He is, she realizes, nothing of the nonentity she'd thought. He is sweet and loving and passionate, only quietly so. He makes a good counterpart to his uncle in that way. He is dedicated, and as they grow closer, Artanis begins to feel the warmth of that dedication being turned on herself. She basks in it. She likes Celeborn very much, and she relishes the indication that he likes her too.

In Celeborn's typical fashion, he is quiet about his devotion. He does not speak much on it, and so Artanis does not know quite how deep it goes until one morning, she finds Celeborn in the garden, and he inclines his head towards her and says in greeting, "Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo."

Her first thought is that his accent is somewhat atrocious, and then her mind catches up and she stares. It is a common Quenya greeting, if a bit of a formal one, but Celeborn is Sindar through and through. She had not thought he spoke a word of Quenya. Few in Doriath do. And yet…

"Suilië," she greets in return, far more casually. "I did not know you spoke Quenya."

Celeborn's cheeks go a bit pink. "I have been trying to learn," he admits. "Daeron has been teaching me, although his Quenya is not perfect, so we have had some… difficulties."

"I would have helped you through them," Artanis offers.

Celeborn's cheeks darken further. "I had hoped for it to be a surprise."

Artanis almost wants to laugh, but poor Celeborn is already so embarrassed. "It was a very good one," she tells him honestly, and almost laughs anyway when the blush spreads to the tips of his ears.

"I wished to learn your native tongue, as you have done mine," Celeborn says earnestly. "And I looked to it for words to express your beauty, in case mine was insufficient. Alatáriel, I would name you, maiden crowned with radiance."

Artanis has never had an epessë before. She finds she rather likes this one.

"What would it be in Sindarin?"

"Galadriel."

"Galadriel," she repeats. "I think I would like to be known as Galadriel."

Celeborn smiles his beautiful, warm smile at her. "Then shall I be known by your name for me? I have heard you speak it, although neither Daeron nor I knew what it meant."

"And what have you heard me speak?" Galadriel asks.

"I have heard you call me pekkuvo, have I not?"

Galadriel looks at him for a moment in surprise, then feels her own cheeks begin to flush. "That is not, perhaps, quite as flattering a name as you have given me."

"Truly?" Celeborn asks, looking surprised. "And yet you spoke it with such affection. Why is it unflattering? What does it mean?"

Galadriel thinks of when she first coined it, when she was walking in the gardens and found Celeborn in a tree. He'd sprung down to greet her so nimbly that she could think of only one creature, and so she had called him…

"Squirrel," she admits, knowing that she is now likely as red as Celeborn was. "It means squirrel."

To his credit, she can tell that Celeborn tries not to laugh, but he is not as successful as she was.