No, this is not a joke.

[lorien_gal]

There may be a boat, on the lake, very early this morning.

On this boat, there may be a woman, beautiful, tall and proud, eyes clear as pond water, hair golden to match the Light of the Trees. She looks about, and her eyes fill with wonder and concern - this is not the Great River that leads to Osgiliath. This is not the way to Minas Tirith -

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[broodingelf]

If she makes it past the throngs of relatives at the lakeshore, she may find, some way further in, the only other cousin in her generation to have actually survived the book.

The sudden arrivals are becoming almost commonplace, but a not-dead relative is certainly a bit of a change. Maglor regards her for a moment, and gives her a careful, respectful nod. "--Galadriel."

[lorien_gal]

A pause. It's nice to meet someone who's not dead. But the mass murdering relative part is not as nice.

"--Maglor."

[broodingelf]

No, it wouldn't be. And he's more than prepared to leave her in peace. But. "...You must be just arrived. Welcome."

[lorien_gal]

"My thanks." A long, long pause. She's not seen him since when? The end of the first age? She looks down, takes a breath.

"It has been long, since I saw you." Factually.

[broodingelf]

Probably even before that, actually, since they hung out in wildly different areas. Except maybe that one time his family invaded Doriath.

"Yes." At this point in her life, we like to think he's being a crazy hermit on this one little island. "Very long."

[lorien_gal]

"And yet here you are." An observation. "Have you found peace in your wanderings?"

[broodingelf]

He looks blank for a moment. "How?" To be at peace would involve forgiveness on some level, and, um. No. "No, that would be to deny the evil."

Thirteen thousand years and he hasn't run out of angst yet; we'd say it was a record but presumably Daeron actually has him beat. Ladies and gentlemen: Elves.

[lorien_gal]

Her expression softens.

"It would be, Maglor," softly. "How long, since then?"

Forgiveness can be found here, perhaps. Galadriel is wiser, and more generous than the one he knew.

[broodingelf]

Since Celebrimbor already asked him this, he doesn't have to think about it too hard. "Many ages of the world. About thirteen thousand years, now."

That would be nice of her. Unfortunately for himself, Maglor's a bit less generous.

[lorien_gal]

"Then you have seen the end of the Third Age, and the outcome of the War of the Ring."

Because she knows about the war, through sight. She just doesn't know how it ends.

And her demeanor is softer yet, because thirteen thousand years of remorse is a very, very long time.

[broodingelf]

He looks surprised. "Yes. You have not?" Apparently it's tricky for the not-dead ones. Fortunately, these are pretty much the only ones.

It's such an absurdly high number!

[lorien_gal]

"No," she replies. "I only know that which the waters of Lorien tell me. The mallorns are still short, and the sun's reflection in the water blurs it."

It is. And we think Galadriel is going to be alright with Maglor. Probably more than with Lucivar, actually.

[broodingelf]

Huh. "The One Ring was finally destroyed, and Sauron with it." Again, been over this one with Celebrimbor. "It heralded the Dominion of Men."

[lorien_gal]

"So you did tell this to Celebrimbor." A pause and a nod.

[broodingelf]

"I did." It helped, too. "What-- how long has it been for you?" He's confused. He remembers her being around in the Third Age, and going West, and one wonders what's happening with that now.

[lorien_gal]

"Not as long," she says, thoughtful as well. "Celebrian only just left home, to remain in Imladris with Elrond Half-Elven."