It's the first day of Junior year and Idaia's feeling pretty good. She likes her classes so far, it's a beautiful day, and she just has an indescribable positive feeling. Her last class of the day has just let out and she has an entirely tolerable amount of homework.
Her phone rings.
"Hello?"
"Can you sing?"
"They've probably already heard him. You at least don't have to tone it down," she points out when he's finished.
"It was really pretty. In Doriath where I grew up they sang a lot."
"The Iathrim didn't think the Noldor sang much. Were they wrong?"
"It's theoretically possible that the Iathrim sang overwhelmingly more than the Noldor but by human standards the Noldor sang a lot."
"It's nice. I dreamed Elf singing and I thought it wasn't real and I'd never hear it."
She squints at Celegorm in fascination for a few more minutes, then retreats back to her father. "Okay."
"I saw the Elf!"
Idaia plays dreamed-back memories of Elf singing into her laptop's audio recorder and emails the files to Morwen, subject heading: "For Nienor."
"I know what it's like to think you'll never have something again."
"And that poor girl's going to have a lot to deal with when she recalls her marriage."
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