Erestor sat in the expansive library of Rivendell, a sanctuary of knowledge that seemed to breathe with the wisdom of ages. The room was a grand tapestry of towering shelves filled with scrolls, books, and parchments, each a vessel of lore and history. The gentle flicker of candlelight danced across the polished wooden surfaces, casting soft shadows that whispered secrets of the past. As the chief advisor to Lord Elrond, Erestor often found himself buried beneath the weight of responsibilities. Today, however, he had chosen to set aside the complexities of governance to focus on a task that had long been neglected: tidying the library. The chaos that often enveloped this sacred space weighed on his mind. Books lay haphazardly, some stacked precariously while others had been left open, their pages fluttering gently as if longing to be read.

*With a sense of purpose, Erestor meticulously began his work. He picked up a slender volume, its spine worn but the title still legible, and placed it back on the shelf in its rightful position. His fingers brushed the spines of numerous tomes, each holding a world of stories and knowledge within. As he sorted through the collection, he felt a profound satisfaction in restoring order to the chaos, as if bringing harmony to the very essence of Rivendell itself.

As he worked, he became immersed in his task, his thoughts drifting between the contents of the books and the responsibilities awaiting him. Just as he was about to reach for a particularly large tome, the familiar creak of the door interrupted his thoughts. Erestor turned, slightly startled, his brow furrowing at the sudden interruption. The library had always been a place of solitude for him, a refuge from the outside world. The door opened, Erestor puts on a polite facade. “Ah, welcome to Rivendell library, what brings you here?” he asked, his voice steady and welcoming.