"Easy enough; I shall acquire some when we are through, while you take a meal ere we retire," Galadriel says. It is not hard to guess why he wants it but it would do much good for him as well. She can find enough to calm both their minds...but not yet. The water is so wonderfully warm, as is he.

It is a strange feeling, this, and it takes a moment for Galadriel to reconcile what it is. Ease. She is at ease at long last; it is why the time here has felt so very long, she expects, that she has been in a constant state of alert and wariness without respite. She lays her head against his shoulder and closes her eyes, savoring the warmth and the calm.

It does not occur to her that this level of comfort and relaxation might be a poor idea while bathing because, at the same time, it does not occur to her that experiencing this would translate well into sleep. With her head upon his shoulder and the whole of her leaned against him, she drifts into the grey area before dreaming. It pulls her down and, for once, she does not fight it--it has never been this easy, so it is easily mistaken.