Galadriel wakes with a start. She looks around, and sees three figures walking towards the basically-over party. She wonders if they'll stay...
She takes out some coffee from the Mystery pocket, takes a sip and stands up. She wanders around the field. Most of the people have gone, though there are still some bodies asleep on the ground. She stands in the middle of the field, wondering if the party really is over. She wishes that is isn't, it was so much fun! She lifts her thermos of coffee "Happy Birthday, Barrow-Downs," she toasts, and takes a sip. she sits down, waiting to see if something will happen...
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"For this is what your folk would call magic, I believe; though I do not understand clearly what they mean; and they seem to use the same word of the deceits of the Enemy. But this, if you will, is the magic of Galadriel."
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