Work Text:
"First, I try to bake lembas bread, it turns to rock. Then, I misplace my sword, nearly slice my toes off trying to catch it. Gil-galad has been scolding me non-stop, saying mismatching my braids sets a bad example for the young elves. Elrond keeps running off with Nenya, have to chase him to Ered Luin every time. And don’t get me started on the spiders in the garden. I used to command armies, now I’m battling eight-legged pests."
"Galadriel, babe, what are you saying?" Halbrand leans down, checking her.
"I’m saying that after you left, I’ve been a mess."