"At times," Celeborn remarks one night as they prepare for bed, "I fear I will need to drag you and Celebrimbor apart before someone ends up hurt."

Galadriel laughs. "We are Ñoldor, my love, and he is of the House of Fëanor."

"You say that as if it means something to those who did not witness whatever madness your families got up to in Valinor."

Galadriel laughs again. It has been long enough since the First Age now that she feels she can laugh about it, at least sometimes. "If you fear for our safety now, you would have been frantic in Valinor. My father was generally wise enough to sit things out, but Fëanor and Fingolfin! They could argue all day and night and still have more things to curse each other for. Fingolfin always pretended to be a peacekeeper more than a fighter, but it would only take one remark from Fëanor to get him started, and the fights that Fingolfin himself began were always the worst ones."

"And yet you speak of this with such delight," Celeborn says dryly. "We have been married so many years, and yet sometimes I still feel I shall never understand the Ñoldor."

"We are not so complicated a people, I don't think. But we are passionate, and it is not uncommon for us to fight each other, even family. And Celebrimbor is stubborn and foolish, like his father and grandfather before him. Sometimes, when I think of the three of them, I wonder if the name Kurufinwë is cursed, and that is why they all are as they are."

"And that is why you argue with Celebrimbor?" Celeborn asks, sounding somewhat lost. "Because he is stubborn and foolish and his name is Kurufinwë?"

"I would not say I argue with him because his name is Kurufinwë, but I am certain it does not help."

Celeborn looks at her and shakes his head. "How will you two ever manage to rule a kingdom together?"

"Oh, once we finish ironing out the plans for it, we will be past the worst of the arguing, and I daresay things will be easy from there," Galadriel dismisses. "And besides, we shall have you to temper us. You must always call us out for our Ñoldorin foolishness, my pekkuvo. You may be the only one among us with any common sense."

Celeborn sighs. "Will our daughter be like this? Will I have to worry about our Celebrían inheriting your Ñoldorin foolishness, as you call it?"

"Our daughter," Galadriel says fondly, "is all the best of both of us. She has too much of your common sense to ever be called foolish, and I would fight anyone who calls her such. But if you cannot see that she does have Ñoldorin stubbornness, my love, then you are blind."

Celeborn laughs, and he takes the hairbrush that Galadriel has just picked up and begins carefully to run it through her hair. "My common sense and your stubbornness," he says with a sigh. "Our daughter could take all of Arda by storm if she wishes, won't she?"

"Ah, but that," Galadriel corrects, "would be my Ñoldorin foolishness, and luckily, she has been spared that."

Celeborn kisses the top of her head. "I suppose this means you and Celebrimbor will keep arguing until Eregion is finished, then?"

Galadriel tips her head back and flashes her husband her most winning, dazzling, and innocent smile, making him let out an undignified snort of laughter.

"Oh, most certainly, my love, and beyond."