Disclaimer: I don’t own Middle-earth, however much I’d like to live there.
Dior kept his face utterly deadpan as his mother, laughing in her nightingale way, gently pushed him forward. Nimloth felt her kinsman's hand on her back, urging her ahead as well. So this was why Celeborn had insisted she accompany him to Tol Galen.
When their elders retreated inside to share news, Nimloth glanced around and caught a glimpse of a sparkling lake through the trees. She looked at Dior. "Race to the lake!" And she ran. As they tripped into the cool shallows, she discovered Dior's laughter wasn't music-light like Lúthien’s, but as deep and ardent as his father's.