An Extremely Short Rest
Author's Notes: My computer is dead. Meaning I've lost everything. Including this chapter – so I had to rewrite it. I'm not entirely sure if this is my best chapter… but please, do review. And then you can tell me how much I need to rewrite it.
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The morning before the Company's arrival
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Ear piercing notes on Lindir's harp made a very unhappy Elf abruptly wake up from peaceful slumber. This was not the way he had planned to wake up, much less on a Saturday.
The said Elf groaned and threw the sheets back, deciding he might as well get up anyway and go snip Lindir's harp strings.
Why does he insist on playing that thing so early? I swear, I will snap his harp in two if he does it again. Ah, Glorfindel, grab a hold of yourself. Don't break it; just hide it…where no one will find it. Which would be at the bottom of the Brunien…
Glorfindel groaned and pulled on a simple outfit – he felt much too lazy to brush or braid his hair. Looking at his reflection dissatisfied, he stumbled out of the room and headed towards to where the unbearable music was coming from.
Stumbling down one of the many corridors, the golden haired Elf came upon someone that he hadn't seen for a long time.
"Erestor!" He said with glee. "I haven't seen you in years! Where have you been?"
"I know." This 'Erestor' replied; bending over to pick up a few of the documents he had dropped. "I have been away on some other matters, but obviously they have brought me back to Imladris."
Glorfindel nodded. "There seems to be a lot going on around here lately. Ah! Do you have a room? Need I tell Elrond that you need one? If there's one thing that never runs out here, it's space."
With a look of worry, Erestor vigorously shook his head. "No! There's no need – I will only be here for a day or so. No need to mention anything." He shook his head and took a step. "I will see you later, perhaps." Letting his shoulder sag, Erestor walked around the corner and went out of sight.
Glorfindel raised an eyebrow in confusion for a moment, and then remembered what he had climbed out of his warm bed for.
Ah. Yes. I have to go strangle a young Elf.
This time, the half-asleep Balrog slayer got to his target. But it wasn't exactly what he was expecting.
"Estel?" said he in surprise. "What are you doing? Where is Lindir? Why are you using his instruments? Why did you wake me up at such an early hour?"
Ten-year-old Estel blinked a few times while soaking in everything that Glorfindel had just said. "Well," the boy began slowly. "Lindir and I are trying to think something up, since Elrohir asked us to, so he and Elladan can scare the incoming travelers with a song (how they will do that, I have no idea). And Lindir is right over there, trying to get his hair untangled from his cat's claw." – Estel pointed at the dark-haired figure that was wrestling an innocent looking feline – "And I am using his harp because he said I could, and I didn't wake you up at an early hour, you woke up at a late hour. It's nearly eleven." Estel panted after speaking so fast.
Nearly eleven? He has to be jesting! I have never slept in that late. Ssomething must be critically wrong with me…
Shaking his head, Glorfindel turned around on his heel. "Just… tone it down a bit." said Glorfindel, walking out of Lindir's bedchambers.
Estel's face twisted into a look of confusion. "How am I supposed to make a harp be quiet?" He shouted after Glorfindel's retreating back.
"Here's a tip! Quit playing it!"
o-o-o-o-o
Meanwhile, in the kitchens of Imladris, chaos had broken loose. The cook had enlisted the help of her unwilling friends to prepare a meal for the dwarves and a hobbit.
I can't imagine how much food I will have to prepare – goodness me! Is that the bread I smell burning? NO! It's my pies!
The cook, who was known as Tari, ran over to the ovens and pulled out the charred pastries. "Just great!" she said, banging the pan down on the countertop. "I'll have to make a whole other batch."
A few of the other kitchen Elves froze as they witnessed one of Tari's many outbursts. So she didn't have the best temper, but she could get the job done quite magnificently -- if didn't turn into a pan of smoldering ashes, that is.
This will be a long afternoon…Tari groaned an started to prepare some more dough.
o-o-o-o-o
The visitors have arrived. Elladan and I, and a few others have greeted them. I think they enjoyed Lindir and Estel's little song that they wrote. I know they had a great time thinking that up this morning. Estel never showed any interest in music and such – just the outdoors and weapons. Which can be a good thing, I suppose. Hopefully Lindir can help spark an interest.
The meal went well – nothing was raw inside or stale, or burned. Surprisingly hobbits have quite large stomachs for their size. He ate more than my brother and I combined. And sometimes we can eat quite a lot.
Oh! I also got another bottle of Arwen's scented oils and a bar or her soap. She isn't here at the moment, I doubt she'll notice. But I know Elladan will. I must hide them in Glorfindel's room and blame him.
Speaking of that golden headed Elf, I spotted him speaking to someone in the hallway.
But I didn't see the being he was speaking to.
He is starting to worry me now.
Perhaps I should tell Ada this…
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