Saruman's Revenge
by SkyFire

For disclaimer, see part 1.

Everybody: Thanks for the reviews!!! They were really great to read! Keep it up! ;)

Starbrat: That's what you think! Mwahahahaha! ;o)
--
Kalen: Not that I can remember... just did now, though... It's hilarious! Hope you write more
soon! *hint hint* ;o)
--
BlueberryPancakes: Plotbunnies- CHOMPCHOMPCHOMP!! SkyFire- *blinkblink* Chocolate... Elf-lords!
Whoohoo! ;o)
--
FA: Glad you're liking this fic so much! ;)
--
Sam: *waves* Hi! ;)

Please review!

*****
Saruman's Revenge
by SkyFire

Part 8

While waiting for the laughter to die down, the Elf-lords raided Elrond's wardrobe for something
for Glorfindel to wear. Clothed at last in one of Elrond's robes, Glorfindel looked into the
full-length mirror near one wall and began picking leaves out of his hair. Elrond helped,
picking off those the golden-haired Elf missed. In the mirror, they could see the reflection of
Elladan and Elrohir, still laughing, leaning against one another for support.

Once their task was done, they turned and looked to the twins, saw them now sitting back-to-back
on the floor in all their food-splattered glory, an occasional chuckle escaping them.

"Elladan? Elrohir?" Elrond asked, walking over. The twins looked up at him with weary,
streaming eyes. "Answer Glorfindel's question, then go to your rest. You look exhausted."

The twins hesitated, looked away. They wiped the tears from their faces with their sleeves.

"Elladan?" Elrond asked again. Nothing. "Elrohir? Speak."

Elrohir sighed heavily, looked to the two standing ones. "Are you sure you want to know that,
Father?"

"Of course. Now, what happened to Glorfindel?"

"Well," Elrohir said at last. "It's a long story."

"No, it isn't, brother," Elladan said. "Father, you and Glorfindel turned into skinny children
at dawn. All of your clothes were too big and fell off. Then you both ran away from us. It
took Elrohir and I maybe fifteen minutes to catch up. We found you wrestling together in the mud.
You were so filthy we couldn't tell who was who. Then you ran away again, into the house. We
caught you, brought you to the bathhouse and you got washed up. *Glorfindel* ran away from there,
and we got *you* to sleep after we sent servants out looking for *him*. You slept most of the
afternoon, then woke up in time to refuse to eat. You know the rest." He sighed. "Both Elrohir
and I are black and blue from trying to hang on to you two this morning."

Elrond and Glorfindel had turned redder and redder with the telling, embarrassment running through
them in flaming waves.

"We... ran around... naked, through Rivendell?" Glorfindel managed to croak.

"We ran around naked... covered in mud?" came Elrond's mortified query.

"Yes," Elrohir confirmed. "And you wouldn't *believe* the mess the two of you made of the
bathhouse, as well as *this* house." He looked to his brother. "Let's go to bed, brother. We
have to be up before dawn, ready to catch Father and Glorfindel if it happens again."

Elladan nodded with a groan. The twins stood, bid the mortified Elf-lords goodnight, then limped
off to bed, closing the door softly behind them.

Elrond and Glorfindel stared wordlessly at each other for a long time. Then Elrond shook himself
and looked away.

"My Lord?" Glorfindel asked in a subdued voice. "Tell me you know why this happened. Tell me
you know how to stop it from happening again."

"I wish I could," the Lord of Imladris said. Then he looked back to the Elf beside him.
"Gandalf's last letter said he was to remain in Mirkwood until Fall, didn't it?"

"Mithrandir? Yes."

Nodding, Elrond hurried over to his table, found a spot unsplattered by food, then wrote a quick
message on parchment, sealed it. He called for a messenger, ordered him to take the letter to
Gandalf in Mirkwood as quickly as possible.

"My Lord?" Glorfindel asked, confused.

"I have written to Gandalf, asking him to come to Rivendell as soon as possible," came the reply.
Elrond turned, looked to the golden-haired Elf-lord. "He is Gandalf the White now, and head of
the Wizards' Council. Surely he shall know how to cure us of this... this... curse."

"You can do nothing, then?"

"My strength lies in healing magics, Glorfindel. This is beyond my power to cure."

Glorfindel nodded in acknowldegement, then frowned. "Taking the most direct route, straight East
over the mountains, then along the Old Forest Road into Thranduil's realm, it shall take the
messenger nearly a full week to reach Gandalf in Mirkwood, and the same time to return. What are
we to do until then?"

Elrond sighed, looked out the glass balcony-doors at the stars. He looked back to Glorfindel,
face grim. "We hope that Elladan and Elrohir learn quickly how to mind two somewhat wayward
children." He sighed again. "I must work now, Glorfindel. Imladris does not run itself, and I
must write down my orders before dawn finds us children."

"*If* we become children again."

"I have no cause to think it shall happen otherwise," Elrond said. "Do you?"

"No, but-"

"Do you truly want to risk it, Glorfindel?" he asked. "Imagine it, if you would: It is nearing
dawn and, as we do so often, we are in the Hall of Fire along with several dozen Elves. The Sun
rises and instantly, we are children again. Our... our clothes fall off and we run naked around
Rivendell until Elladan and Elrohir manage to catch us again. Only now, all of Rivendell will
know within hours that those young ones are *us*. Can you imagine the panic being leaderless
would cause these Elves? I cannot allow that."

"What do you suggest, then?"

"Return here before dawn," came the suggestion. "My sons shall be here. The doors and windows
will be locked. That way we shall be delayed in our escape, giving them time enough to catch us."

Glorfindel nodded. "Also, we should think back to when we were children in truth, and write down
a list of things we liked or disliked. Then we should give the lists to the twins. Perhaps it
will help them to manage us."

Elrond nodded in agreement. "I agree. Go now and work on your list. I will write down my orders
for the day, then work on mine. Be back here before dawn, though."

The golden-haired Elf nodded. "I shall."

***

It was perhaps a half-hour before dawn.

Elrond finished writing the last of his letters, signed and sealed it, put it aside with the
others. He was just putting his writing implements aside when the door to his rooms opened after
a quiet knock. He looked up to see Glorfindel come into the room, a sheet of parchment in hand.

"Come in, Glorfindel," he greeted. "Elladan and Elrohir should be here shortly."

Glorfindel came further into the room, looking around. The rooms had been neatened, he saw. The
food-mess was gone, and all breakables were either gone, or in places high enough to be
inaccessible to children. The clothes chest Elladan and Elrohir had brought in the day before
had been opened, its contents aired out. He went over to the clothes, pulled up a small pair of
pants. No matter how many times they had been washed, they still bore the faint purple of berry-
juice stains on the knees. He smiled. He remembered that summer; how the twins had both eaten
so many berries as to be nearly sick with it, though very happy. He looked then to the stains on
his own hands, chuckled. That must have been where those stains had come from. There *was* a
berry-patch in the garden he'd awakened in, after all....

"All done your list, Glorfindel?" came Elrond's voice.

"Yes," he said. He put the pants down, walked over to the table where Elrond sat. He put the
list down on the polished wooden surface. "All that I could think of. I'll add to it as I
remember more. And you? Did you write your list?"

"Yes."

Silence fell in the room as the two thought about the approaching dawn and the transformation
that would likely overtake them again.

Then the door to Elrond's rooms opened again and the twins came in. They were moving slowly,
stiff and sore from their ill-use the day before.

Elladan looked at the two lords. A smirk twitched upon his face. He drew breath to speak.

"Don't even say it, brother," Elrohir warned quietly, a small smirk upon his own face.

Elladan considered. His brother was probably right. The two looked tense enough to do him
serious harm should he poke fun at their situation.

Elrond stood, gathered up both his list and Glorfindel's. He waved the lists at his sons.
"These are lists, written by Glorfindel and I, of what we could recall of our likes and dislikes
as children. We thought perhaps this could help you." He pulled the lists back behind him when
Elladan made to take them. "They will be on the table until after the transformation occurs."
He carefully placed the lists facedown on the table behind him.

"But why not give them to us now, Father?" Elladan asked.

Elrohir chuckled. "Brother, think about it. They probably don't want us to see them because
they probably have something embarrassing in them." He looked to the two lords. "Am I right?"

The two in question were faintly pink. They said nothing.

Their silence alone answered the Elrohir's question.

"And they don't want us to see the lists of embarrassing things in case they don't turn into
children this morning after all," Elladan said, continuing his brother's train of thought. He
grinned, looked to his twin. "El, even if they don't turn into children, we *have* to get that
list."

Elrond and Glorfindel looked to each other, still pink with embarrassment. Already, they
regretted writing the lists, though they knew the writing had been necessary.

Then an awkward silence fell once again in the room. All four stared out the window at the
eastern horizon. When it started to lighten with false-dawn, the twins went swiftly around,
locking every door and window as the two lords watched silently.

Then the Sun peeked her edge over the horizon and like the day before, Elrond and Glorfindel were
stricken with cramping pain, sent crashing to the floor.

Elladan and Elrohir watched quietly as it happened, waited for the small ones to get up and try
to run away.

When minutes passed and nothing at all happened, they went over to the collapsed figures on the
floor, concerned. They saw that the two were definitely smaller; clothes naught but big puddles
of bulky fabric around the small bodies.

They still didn't get up.

Truly worried now, Elladan and Elrohir brushed the long silky hair from the small faces, then
looked to each other with a sigh of relief.

Nothing was wrong with the two. They were fast asleep.

"Father and Glorfindel were up all night," Elladan whispered as he gently lifted Elrond, then
carried him over to their father's bed, lay him down on it. "Do you think-?"

Elrohir nodded as he lay Glorfindel down beside Elrond on the bed. "That that was what tired
them out so? Perhaps."

The twins went quietly over to the chest of clothes, brought out a pair of nightclothes. Gently,
they dressed the two children, careful not to wake them, then covered them up with the blankets.
Asleep, the two curled up together.

Smirking at the cute sight, the twins retreated further into the room so as not to disturb the
sleeping ones. The longer they slept, the better. The twins still ached from their bruising the
day before.

Then the thought popped into their heads at the same time and they looked to each other, smiling
evilly. As one, they turned and hurried over to the table and the lists.

TBC...


So, what did you think? I'm thinking of a short interlude for next chapter, about Saruman. What
do you think? I'm already a chapter past all that I had planned for this fic when I started it,
so ideas/suggestions are also welcome; even if I *don't* use them, they usually get the
plotbunnies going on *something*.

Anyways, click the button and leave a review! ;o)