“Fëanor, look! Is that a Silmaril in the bottom of that steamer trunk?”
Fëanor gave Námo a witheringly skeptical look but in the end, the lure was too great. Manwë, passing behind them, tripped unconvincingly and stumbled against Fëanor.
WHAM!
“Quick, lock it!” shouted Námo, flinging himself across the lid.
Manwë snapped the lock shut. Both Valar collapsed against the trunk in relief, ignoring the muffled thuds and curses.
“What possessed you to release him now?” asked Manwë.
“Nobody told me Gimli was coming - with three of Galadriel's hairs! Now where shall we hide the trunk until Gimli dies?”