Marnie is sitting at a table towards the back of the room, with her muses. She has indulged in a bit of elvish glamour for this occasion and looks quite presentable in a green velvet dress stitched with silver embroidery.

The eye of the camera pauses on her dutifully for a moment, as she gasps and holds her hands to her mouth, her eyes widening with shock and delight. Then the focus shifts suddenly to Lady Galadriel, lingers with worship on her flawless face and deep golden tresses. The camera-man has evidently been smitten. Lady Galadriel smiles to herself, far from being displeased, and leans over to whisper something to her husband. Reluctance obvious in every minuscule change of frame, the camera man is forced to allow Lord Celeborn into the picture. There is a moment when his cool, ice coloured beauty and sharp, deep gaze arrests the viewer. Studio lights gleam on mithril hair. And then the camera man passes with jealous speed to a scene of Marnie nervously making her way up onto the dais, trying not to trip on her long skirts.

"Oh," says Marnie, juggling the award and the microphone in shaking, clumsy hands. The sound is tiny. She looks surprised and holds the microphone a bit closer, "Is that better?"

The presenter gives an encouraging nod and one of those cheery smiles that mean 'How long is this going on, my face is starting to ache.'

"Oh," says Marnie again, looking out at the audience with a 'rabbit in the headlights' look. "This is so unexpected. No, I mean it really is. I didn't think anyone liked Celeborn - only yesterday I heard someone talking about Elrond and Galadriel, Haldir and 'that other Lothlorien Dude...'

There's some polite laughter at this little joke. The camera pans back for a reaction shot from Celeborn but somehow never gets further than the gentle, sad look in Galadriel's bright eyes. Judging from Celeborn's relaxed, open hand (the only part of him to get into shot - and that only because it's lying on the table next to her elbow) he seems fairly unthreatened by any of this, but it is rather hard to tell.

"And so to receive an award for any story in which he is the main character is..."

With a jerk (someone has elbowed the camera man in the ribs) the picture shifts back from the Lady of Lorien to Marnie. Her eyes are filling with tears, "It's not just a wonderful thing for me. And it is. Wonderful for me, I mean. But it's also an affirmation for one of the most undervalued elf-lords out there. After all, without him none of this could have been possible, and he's a wonderful person when you get to know him, and..."

The tears well up and fall. She chokes up, looks at the camera as if to say 'please - go look at Galadriel a bit while I get myself together again,' but tears make good TV, so he stays resolutely focussed on her while she sniffs and starts again, slightly wobbly lipped.

"So I'm accepting this award really on his behalf. But there are one or two other people I'd like to thank if that's OK." She gets out a little list, with painful earnestness. The audience's spirits drop noticeably. "Firstly I'd like to say thank you to God for giving me the gift of writing, and then to all my Muses for inspiring me so much. And thank you to my reviewers - you know who you are - you've kept me going through thick and thin.

"Thank you to those who put in so much work running the awards.

"Thank you to Professor Tolkien for discovering and translating the records of Middle Earth..."

Members of the audience shift on their seats. A cup of tea starts to sound like a good idea around now. 'I wonder,' they think, if there's time to go to the loo before the next one?'

"Thank you to Peter Jackson, who created so much new interest in the Lord of the Rings, and to all my online friends who've fostered my attempts to write..."

Yes. Audience members get up, put the kettle on, feed the cats, draw the curtains, phone for pizza, take a leak. The voice drones on. Finally folk drift back to the sofa in time to hear, "Thank you to my husband, who puts up with my obsession, and even has the grace to sound interested now and again. And, of course, thank you to Orlando Bloom because he made so many women so happy when he wore that diadem in the last film."

There is a small titter from those few people who are still listening, which swells to a roar of approval when they realize the speech has finally finished. Marnie trips back to her table with as much huge relief as they have to see her go, and sits down next to Celeborn, with the result that he gets in the frame one last time. Just briefly you can see his sweet smile - bright as sun over snow. Then, with a long lingering shot of Galadriel's heavy, radiant hair and glittering dress, the camera fades into black.