It always gladdened her heart to speak to the Dalish--to any elves, truly. She had never lived among men, not for so long a time as she'd spent in Thedas, and being constantly faced with their mannish nature was taxing. Her cousins in these lands were odd, on occasion, but they were elven. There was something familiar in them, something calming, and she savored it.

Beleth came upon her as she tended to a late-blooming set of flowers and, as the elf bowed, Galadriel inclined her head in turn.

"Advice is a dangerous gift, one I rarely give, but I will gladly listen. If I can help you, I will."

Galadriel regarded their surroundings--they were private enough without exerting power to make them moreso--then returned her gaze to Beleth.

"Tell me, what troubles you?"