She names a hotel.

"Thanks very much. I'll have her call you if she wants to meet an Elf."

"You're welcome. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Will do!"

They get a call that evening. Nienor wants to meet an Elf.

Okay! This is entirely doable. Does she want to do the sensible thing and meet somewhere public or at her house or what?

There's a park downtown, she and her dad will be there.

That sounds sensible. What time?

6?

Okay, sure. At six Idaia and her Elf will be at the park.

And so will an eleven-year-old girl, tall for her age and blond and biting her fingernails. Her father spots them first. "Hi."

"Hi! Wow, Imliss wasn't kidding about how tall you are," she tells the eleven-year-old.

She is still not as tall as Tyelcormo! She stares up at him in fascination.

"This is my husband Tyelcormo. He was sad for a long time while I was dead but now he isn't anymore."

"That is my most distinguishing personality trait," he says.

"I've heard of you."

"Yeah, likewise."

"I remember almost everything."

"I wasn't sure if you'd recognize the Quenya."

"I've never heard it before, but I know he's Celegorm."

"Is that what the Thindarin is? Slipped my mind."

"Sindarin," she says, blinking at her.

...She looks at her husband with a raised eyebrow.

"Most Elves can't speak Quenya properly, it's terrible."

"How well could most Men speak Sindarin?"

"Thindarin."