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    Summary

    Galadriel was quickly losing her patience. “What you do mean you cannot unlock the door?”

    “We used magic on it, of course,” Celebrimbor offered, waving his hand about. “You can come in, but you can’t go out until morning.”

    What?”

    “Look,” the older Elf said, sensing her discomfort. “A lot of people are not in their right state of mind. They don’t need to be stumbling out into the streets from my home, drawing unwanted attention. I mean, if High King Gil-Galad found out what we’ve been up to over here, he’d shut the whole thing down—”

    “Thank you, Celebrimbor,” Halbrand cut in, taking Galadriel by the arm. “We’ll enjoy the party. If you’ll excuse us—” Halbrand reached out and grasped Bronwyn’s arm with his other hand, and then he proceeded to lead both of them away from the table, weaving a path through the bodies in the atrium.

    “What are you—”

    He cut Galadriel off. “There is no point in arguing with him. Let’s just make the best of a bad situation and find a place to wait the night out.”

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