Disclaimer: Made purely for fun, not profit. Belongs to Tolkien. And JKR, but you can't really tell I'm borrowing from her this time.

Glorfindel was bored. Not just 'This lesson is taking too long' bored, or 'How many times are we going to hear the Lay of Luthien tonight' bored, but the kind of bored that usually creates either marvelous inventions, great fun, or complete chaos. It creates these because the only other alternative is to let the brain die, and Glorfindel (no matter the snide comments made behind his back as a young child) did indeed require and use his mind. Taking this as a life or death situation, he set off to find something, somewhere, to do. Mentally cursing Elrond along the way, but quietly. Because Elrond always seemed to know, which was disconcerting. He was entirely too much like Galadriel for anyone's comfort, and likely knew exactly how bored Glorfindel got when separated from patrol. His arm would be fine, but Elrond had insisted. And maybe threatened to drug him a lot.

That wasn't the point, though. Glorfindel was stuck at home with a bum arm for his own physical health and never mind his mental.

Fortunately, relief was on the way in the form of laundry, just cleaned. For there, on the very top of the pile, was a robe he well recognized. It was one Erestor was seen wearing often, and an idea struck Glorfindel. He looked carefully, but it appeared that the clothing was completely unattended. Snatching the robe, he draped it across his shoulders as well as he could. It didn't fit very well, being made for a female several inches shorter and much less broad across the shoulders, but it still gave a dark billowy look, and Glorfindel began searching for an audience.

"You! What do you think you are DOING? How many times must I tell you not to act like the fool you were born to be! I clearly told you, 500 pages of paperwork on my desk tomorrow! And you turn in 499! What is this half-hearted idiocy?"

Glorfindel was alternating between a high-pitched voice and a low threatening hiss as he berated a 'scribe' in what he considered High Erestor Fashion. Somewhere along the way, an audience member had found a sheet of paper and rolled it up as well as a mass of black yarn which was now draped over Glorfindel's head. It did very little to hide his (according to Erestor, blindingly) bright hair, but the watchers enjoyed it and considered it a marvelous costume, and who was he to argue?

He spun in a snooty circle, then snapped back around.

Erestor was watching in the doorway, and doing that thing where she managed to look like a combination of Elrond in his unruffled annoyance at children's foolery and a young Galadriel on the edge of high temper. This could end badly. The crowd started to quiet, realizing their own danger. Erestor walked, the crowd parting quickly for her. Looking up at him, Erestor shook her head as if in sorrow.

"Lord Glorfindel, I must say, I am rather disappointed in you. Not only is this quite the amateurish attempt at replicating my actions, you mock my entire work and my own competence." The yarn was almost slipping off, but Glorfindel didn't dare move to adjust or remove it.

"Honestly, how dare you even call is an impersonation? It is utterly ridiculous." Yarn was slowly drooping into his eyes, but he still didn't dare move. Erestor sighed and reached into a deep pocket.

"You see, Lady Erestor, if one wishes to play any kind of scholar, one must carry around a quill or be thought quite the imposter." And reaching up on her tiptoes, she tucked the quill behind his ear and readjusted the yarn. Stepping back to admire the affect, she smiled.

"Much better." At this, the crowd cheered. Glorfindel took a breath. Erestor jumped up on a bench and grabbed a yellow tablecloth, and wound it around her head and left the rest tucked around her.

"Fear not, gentle citizens!" She brandished another quill like a sword and swung it wildly. People clapped. "I, Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower, Defeater of Balrogs, Twice Born, and dedicated Lover and Devourer of Apple Pie," roars of laughter here, "have returned to save you all! I fight the evil creatures that threaten, and claim no reward save for PIE!" At this point, Erestor began 'fighting' an evil creature with lots of "haha!" and "ho, hurrah!" noises, complete with metal clanging sounds courtesy of an elf banging a wooden spoon against a pot lid.

At last, she 'defeated' the foe, and gave a great speech about Lord Glorfindel's great skill and courage against a thousand evil creatures. With that, she declared a feast in her-ah, Glorfindel's- honour, and bowed. She tucked her quill-sword away, and took off the tablecloth.

"And THAT, my dearest Lady Erestor," she smirked, " is how you impersonate someone."

With that, she winked and walked out to many congratulations on her victory of the forces of evil. Glorfindel felt a spark of hope, though. It seemed like he could make a very good friend out of Erestor.

It also seemed as though he would never be bored again.

Hello...

Sorry. Between a new job and Nanowrimo, been busy...but here I am! Posting something! I didn't forget it, and never intend to! Just got busy. But here's a little tidbit to keep the tigers from starving...ha, nice readers, nice.

OH! And the SECOND anniversary for Letters is coming up! Last year I did an Anniversary Special, and offer to do so once more. Depending on how many requests I get, I can't promise I'll do all of them, but if someone wants to request something out of this universe, let me know. I'm open to suggestions, even if I can't promise quality. But the goal is to get it up by the original Publish date for Letters, which is less than a month out, so sooner is better than later.

So! Thanks for everyone who kept those little alerts coming to my inbox and guilt-tripped-I mean, inspired- me into work.