Celebrian waited for the guide to depart before leaving her own room and slipping into her mothers.

"Ammë," Celebrian flopped unceremoniously onto her mother's bed, rubbing her cheek against the soft pillows, "The pillows are nice."

Galadriel observed her daughter calmly, as she removed her boots and hung her cloak on the wall. She knew why her daughter was in here.

"I fell on him Ammë, everyone was watching and I fell," Celebrian spoke angrily, irritated with herself.

Galadriel sat down on the bed beside her, drawing back the hood and stroking the soft blonde curls that had come loose from their braids.

"It does not matter, melin, it will soon be forgotten," Galadriel did not bother telling her daughter that she would learn more as she got older. She had a feeling that Celebrian was as Celebrian did, and that she would never quite be the cool graceful princess that she felt she needed to be.

"I shall not forget. Did you see his face?" Celebrian went red at the memory. Galadriel laughed softly, Elrond's face had indeed been a picture, but she did not think that was what Celebrian was referring to.

"I cannot do anything right!" Celebrian cried out, absorbed in her own imperfection. It was not easy to measure up to a mother who had had thousands of years of practice.

"Celebrian," Galadriel said in a no nonsense voice, "It does not matter what has passed, but if you do not wish to attend the feast in your riding clothes, I would advise returning to your chambers to change."

~*~

In one of the many glades found in the forests of Imladris two elves were deep in combat. The taller of the two was younger in appearance, his fair colouring ensuring he turned pink during any period of exertion. His cheeks were flushed at present and tangled strands of blond hair stuck damply to his forehead. His opponent contrasted this fair colouring with dark hair, tied back from his face in three braids. Although he moved less quickly than the younger elf, there was more thought behind his tactics, and the two were evenly matched.

Unperturbed by the clang of swords and soft curses from the combatants, an older elf sat leaning against a tree just feet away. A pile of papers lay to his side, and he sat in silence, perusing a letter that had arrived a few hours ago. Physically he did not look much older than the two before him, for all three were grown and elves do not age quickly. However there was wisdom and sorrow in the grey eyes that was lacking as yet in the faces of the other two.

This was Gil-Galad, High King of the Noldor. He was not an infrequent visitor to Imladris, for its Lord held the offices of Vice-Regent of Eriador and standard bearer and they often had need to talk. Today though, his visit was to see Galadriel, for they had urgent matters to discuss. Matters of great importance.

"Surrender!" The dark-haired elf demanded, pinning his opponent against a tree. The blond elf blinked twice, dropping his arms slightly. The sword next to his throat relaxed. Ducking so quickly that he nearly lost an ear, he spun round pinning the other elf against the tree rather less gently than he had been held himself.

"That was a dirty trick Glorfindel," Elrond scowled as he was released after declaring the other the victor. Maybe he had not known Glorfindel long enough, but it was still surprising that an elf with so many ballads about his bravery and honour would be so well schooled in deviousness and deception.

Glorfindel laughed, rolling his eyes at the King.

"'Tis you who are so innocent"

Elrond flashed him a foul look as he re-sheathed his sword. Glorfindel met his look, widening his eyes in mock innocence.

"Do not look at me so Elrond! In any case you have greater things to worry about than shameful defeats," Glorfindel skipped out of the path of a well aimed elbow, glancing up at the sky, "It is not I who has ten minutes to get changed before meeting my guests!"

Elrond looked up in shock. The sun had gone down more quickly than he had realised and the shadows were now long and cool. Cursing under his breath he took off along the path back to Imladris.

Glorfindel burst into noisy laughter, watching his friend depart. Elrond stopped suddenly and turned round, his face serious apart from twitching edges to his lips.

"Glorfindel," Elrond called in his most regal voice, "As Lord of Imladris I am pleased to inform you that you will be joining me in meeting the guests before dinner."

Glorfindel swore loudly, joining Elrond in the sprint back to the house.

There was not much left for Gil-Galad to do but gather up his papers and wander leisurely back to the house, laughing to himself.