Erestor had not felt this hassled in centuries. Centuries. She was supposed to be the one in control of this realm, and instead she spent her time completely rearranging her schedule to avoid ONE bored elf maiden who apparently-
She shuddered, and avoided the thought. Slightly less terrifying was the interest Lady Galadriel had recently taken. It seemed much more along the lines of generic curiosity, that of an older cat being surprised to find something actually rather entertaining, and forgoing a nap to figure it out. Not that THE Lady of Light resembled a great, golden, smugly satisfied feline with a mysterious smile. Not at all.
It still brought to mind a cat and mouse when Galadriel sat across from her at meetings.
Be that as it may, the Lady seemed to gain a great deal of satisfaction watching her granddaughter torment the mouse, and so Erestor dismissed most of the attention as somewhat annoying but mostly irrelevant to the current situation.
Which, most recently, had led to her running through the halls. She was far too old for this, and was also wishing she had metamorphmagus abilities at the moment. Just as she had determined that no, it would not be an abuse of power if she unlocked a random door and hid, a tall golden form ended her flight. Glorfindel and his horrible timing, the idiot king-
"Running in the halls?"
Except not Glorfindel. Definitely not.
"Lady Galadriel." Erestor tried to sound pleasantly surprised, she truly did. It didn't succeed. "I apologize, it was not my intention to- ah, collide with you or anyone." The sound of the chase echoed close by, and Erestor stiffened. Galadriel nodded to herself, grabbed Erestor's arm, and pulled her into a room.
"Grandmother, you found her!" Stardust in vocal form haunted Erestor, who quickly checked the windows. No trees? For the love of-
"Yes I did, but I am afraid we are having a rather important discussion right now." It sounded so pleasant, but the implicit command left no doubt. Go away and find someone else to torture, I'm taking a turn right now. And here Erestor had thought Lord Elrond's line was troublesome. Still, at least entertaining the Lady of Lothlórien held the potential for tea. Very nice tea, if memory served. Actually, now that her panic had subsided, it smelled exactly like tea and baked apples...
Had they planned this together? If so, Erestor's life had just become incredibly complicated and difficult.
Perhaps she could cause the mass hallucination of an invading army, and slip out during the chaos.
"So, Erestor, what was my dearest granddaughter trying to do to you this time?"
Erestor did not want to answer that. It involved a lot of pink, and lace. And Glorfinel's stupid, smirking face that was just asking to get turned zebra striped (and wouldn't that be marvelous? Did elves even know about zebras?).
"The Lady Arwen desired that I try on some of her outfits from when she was younger." And wasn't that an even worse kicker? Galadriel said nothing, but one corner of her mouth tipped just a bit, and Erestor knew that the Lady was imagining it all too well.
"Yes, she did go through a rather...fluffy period, if I remember." Fluffy was one way of putting it. Worthy of a Disney princess parody, more like. Erestor, who had accepted tea, tightened her grip just slightly. "Come now, surely between the two of us, knowing each other as long as we have, you can talk to me."
Perhaps it was unwise, but frankly speaking, Erestor was running on low sleep, had skipped at least four meals in the past two (or was it three? She couldn't keep track anymore) days, and that was only from the normal chaos meetings between Lothlórien and Imladris caused. The addition developments and increased stress would require at least two months of tea therapy on their own, and perhaps Erestor could push for meetings once every three centuries instead of one meeting per century. Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel could speak mind to mind, what need had they of being face to face? In fact-
"Erestor?" She looked up, startled. Ooh, this was unfortunate. Things were starting to rattle. Quickly reigning in her emotions, Erestor made a swift decision.
"As the Lady wishes. Honestly speaking, while I have no problem with the colour pink in general, I think it should be used in moderation and rarely on me. When said pink comes in five different shades on the same dress, I think it is an abomination. When said pink abomination also comes with six layers of" and a wild gesture with her hands, almost spilling tea, "poof, it becomes an evil of its own. I will NOT allow such evil to be enacted upon my person. I am a free creature, and will not wear a dress merely to entertain a bored elven maiden. If she truly wanted something to do, I am sure I could find some work that does not. Involve. Me. I also think that it is rather telling as to her mental stability, no matter how old she was when wearing It."
Personally, Erestor was quite impressed that she had managed not to break the teacup, and merely placed it down upon the saucer with a slight clink.
Thereupon, something utterly terrifying happened.
This, Erestor realized, could perhaps become the ultimate weapon in our fight against the Dark Lord when he rises again. The laughter seemed to be a mixture of early sunlight and forceful winds (and look who was trying to be poetic), and sounded so utterly unrefined and contrary to everything else Galadriel did currently. This was the laughter of the strong willed Daughter of Noldor who fought with a sword, not words, and crossed the Grinding Ice.
"Erestor, I think we shall be friends." And Galadriel placed another apple tart upon her plate, smiling in a non-mysterious way for once.
Right. Of course. Erestor lived to entertain Old Elves. Notice the capitol letters. Actually, weren't Glorfindel and Galadriel related?* It would make sense. What had she done to deserve this?
"Although I must confess, I agree with my granddaughter. You are quite adorable, especially when angry." That was it. Erestor was going to have to leave Imladris in exile.
"I am not adorable. Any such descriptor is unhelpful for my position, and honestly, speaks poorly of Arwen's ability to judge character." This was stated in her best Seneschal voice, eyes disinterested and hands politely folded, ignoring the obvious bribe. Galadriel simply reached over and patted her hands gently.
"Of course, dear child." Erestor snatched her hands away, grabbed the lonely apple tart, and stormed out of the room. Politely, of course. Usually it disconcerted people when, even obviously angry, she still gave them the vague niceties she always did. Galadriel appeared unaffected. Of course, she was likely old enough to have invented it.
"Not quite!" Galadriel called from the room. Erestor left swiftly. She was not adorable. And if she had to punch faces until people remembered that again, well. Omelets and broken eggs and all that.
It would also be pleasant, she thought, to start with Glorfindel.