Saruman's Revenge
by SkyFire
For disclaimer, see part 1.
Abby: Glad you liked the last part that much... Hope you'll like this one as well! ;oD
--
Lord Angelus: No, I don't think Haldir or Legolas are going to show up in this fic, as it is
based in Rivendell and they aren't there right now...
--
Jessica: Yes, I'm feeling a bit better now... And as for 'poor Gandalf', I am not done with him
yet! :oD
--
To everyone else who reviewed: a *very* big Thanks!! ;oD
A/N: Takes place the day after Gandalf's arrival in Rivendell. In other words, the night the
opening paragraph refers to is the one at the end of part 14.
*****
Saruman's Revenge
by SkyFire
Part 15
Gandalf, tired after the long night of trying to think up a 'cure' for Elrond and Glorfindel,
fell asleep shortly before dawn in the guest-room he had been given.
Come the dawn, the wizard lay on the bed in his chambers, fast asleep, the occasional light snore
escaping him. His white robe was rumpled, his pointy hat sat on a small table at the bedside.
His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and even.
Slowly, the door's latch turned, then the solid oak door cracked open an inch. In the crack
between door and jamb, a pair of eyes was seen; one grey eye and one green eye. Both eyes
quickly scanned the room, focused on the sleeping wizard.
The eyes disappeared for a brief moment, then the door swung open silently on oiled hinges. The
two small Elflings slipped quietly into the room, closed the door behind them with a soft click.
They froze when Gandalf snorted at the sound, only moving once again after he settled back down
into sleep.
Large eyes wide, the two younglings climbed up onto the bed-- Elrond on the wizard's left,
Glorfindel on the right.
Curious, Elrond reached out one small hand and gently pet the wizard's long beard. He giggled;
it tickled his palm.
Glorfindel copied his friend's motion, reaching out and petting the strange beard, scrunching up
his nose at the feel of it on his hand.
Neither Elfling could remember ever having seen anyone with such a thing on their face.
"It tickles my hand," Glorfindel said quietly.
"It can't be comfortable," Elrond said in return, equally quietly. "It has to be hot and
scratchy. He can't *really* want that on his face!"
Glorfindel was quiet for a long moment, then smiled widely when his friend looked over
questioningly. Eyes sparkling with well-intentioned mischief, Glorfindel produced a pair of
small items that had been forbidden the young ones by the Twins. "Maybe we can help?" he
suggested.
Elrond grinned back at his friend, nodding. He took the thing Glorfindel offered him, then both
quietly went to work.
***
Gandalf awoke perhaps an hour before sunset.
The first thing that registered was pain. Small pains- three or four- on his face.
The next was a strange feeling of weightlessness.
He raised a hand to stroke his beard as he pondered those two things. His hand landed on his
robe-covered chest.
The wizard's eyes opened wide.
His hand felt around. Left. Right. Up. Down.
Nothing.
Shaking, Gandalf sat up in bed and looked to the mirror on the wall opposite the bed.
The wizard's high-pitched scream echoed throughout the House of Elrond.
When Elladan and Elrohir arrived at the wizard's room scant minutes later, it was to find the
powerful Istari nearly in tears. They saw at once his clean-shaven face, the few cuts there. It
was very strange to look at him; never before had they seen him with a beard shorter than
waist-length, and now he had none at all.
"Gandalf?" Elladan dared to ask.
The wizard turned to face the Twins, was about to speak when the younglings came running into the
room. Both grinned proudly upon seeing the wizard and rushed over to hug him about the waist.
"Do you like it?" Elrond asked after the hug finished. "Now you won't be hot and itchy."
"Sorry about the little cuts," Glorfindel added, "the scissors slipped."
Little-Elrond looked over to his friend, poked him in the ribs with a finger. "Remember the
present?" he said quietly.
Glorfindel's eyes widened, then he grinned. He hurried across the room and crawled halfway under
the bed, to emerge with something in one hand-
Oh.
Elladan and Elrohir were hard put to keep their snickers from breaking free as the small
golden-haired child went back to the wizard and proudly presented him with the beard that had
just the night before been firmly attached to his face. Now, it was held together by a trio of
brightly-colored ribbons, clumsily tied in a big floppy bow.
Gandalf took the item from the beaming Elfling with trembling hands, his mouth opening and
closing like a beached fish, a strange faint hissing noise escaping him.
Glorfindel looked to Elrond, still smiling. "He likes it," he said in a loud whisper. "Just
look."
Elrond looked. And, with a hint of the insight that he had when grown, saw a bit more into
Gandalf's expression- or lack thereof -than Glorfindel had. He gulped. "Glorfindel?" he said
as he crept over near his friend. He spoke so quietly that even the Twins with their sharp ears
had trouble hearing him. "Remember when we had the porridge-fight, then the servants came in and
got mad at 'Rohir and 'Adan?"
"Yes," Glorfindel said, equally quietly. "Why?"
"Remember what they looked like? And the sounds they made right before they exploded?"
The small golden head nodded, then paused. The small body tensed noticeably. Ever so slowly,
the eyes turned to stare at the wizard. Wide eyes turned back to Elrond. "Uh-oh," was all he
said.
The two turned and bolted for the door, neatly avoiding the startled grabs of the Twins. The
door slammed shut on its own just before the two reached them, and the small ones careened into
it, unable to stop quickly enough. They slid down to sit on the floor, cluching at one another
and their new bruises. Both looked up fearfully as a shadow fell over them, whimpered as they
looked up into the red face of the wizard.
***
An hour later, Elladan poked his head into the wizard's room to check up on the small ones.
Elrond and Glorfindel were on all fours on the floor, scrubbing away. Their pants were soaked to
the knee, their arms nearly to the shoulder with soapy water from floor and bucket. Both were at
opposite ends of the room, slowly working their way towards each other. All the while, they
muttered under their breath about nasty old wizards who didn't appreciate all the trouble they
had gone to for his benefit....
As punishment for their act of destruction, Gandalf had set them the task of cleaning the room.
*All* of it: floor, walls, ceiling, furniture, bed.... And to make sure the small ones wouldn't
leave before their work was done, he had sealed the exits with a thin wall of energy that would
let all pass except them. They were stuck.
Elrond sensed the twin's presence at the door, glared over at him, in the worst show of bad
temper Elladan had yet seen from the youngling, a glare that spoke clearly without needing words:
Go away!!
The small dark-haired half-Elf sighed as he saw Elladan leave. Pausing for a moment, he brushed
a strand of hair back from his face with a soapy-wet hand. He glared around the room. He and
Glorfindel would finish the floor in perhaps another half-hour, then they would have to move on
to the walls. How could they do the parts beyond their reach? And how could they do the ceiling??
Surely the wizard had been kidding about that...?
A remembered image of the irate Istari presented itself in his memories.
No, he had looked *very* serious, and *very* upset.
Elrond sighed, transferred some of his angry frustration into scrubbing.
***
Late that afternoon, perhaps an hour before sunset, Gandalf and the Twins went back to the
wizard's guestroom to release the small ones from their punishment.
When they got there, they saw that the floor was spotless. So were the walls- the lower half
anyway, to just about the height a small Elfling would be when he stood on his friend's shoulders.
The ceiling was... hardly touched. All three wondered briefly how the small ones had managed to
get that much of the high ceiling done, until they caught sight of one of the boys' cleaning rags
dangling from one of the rafters. Obviously, the boys had tried to clean it by throwing the rags
up as high as they could, which probably stopped when their rags failed to come back down to them.
The bed was partially made. The huge sheets apparently had given the small ones quite a bit of
difficulty, though they'd done their best. Unfortunately, it appeared that in the battle of
Elfling against bedding, the bedding won. Both small ones were tangled up in the sheets so
tightly that the three adults knew there was no way the younglings could get free without help.
Both were sound asleep.
The trio smiled indulgently down at the two before gently freeing them, being careful not to wake
them. Each twin carrying a sleeping Elfling, they took them back to their father's bedroom to
lay them down the small time remaining until sunset.
Gandalf stayed in his room, his thoughts circling problem for which he had been called. He
sighed, looked out the balcony windows at the fading sky. Soon, the firey orb of the Sun would
sink below the horizon, and then he would be able to consult once more with the adult Elrond and
Glorfindel.
This was not a problem that could be allowed to continue for much longer, as it might for someone
of lesser importance. The half-Elf and his golden-haired friend were esential to the running of
the Elven realm of Rivendell. They could not afford to be absent half of the time.
In their father's room, Elladan and Elrohir carefully stripped the young ones and tucked them
into bed, covering them up gently and laying Fluffy against Glorfindel. Asleep, the two cuddled
up together, faces smooth and innocent.
And the Sun kept on sinking.
TBC...
Reading reviews is good for the plotbunnies... and the author... :o)
by SkyFire
For disclaimer, see part 1.
Abby: Glad you liked the last part that much... Hope you'll like this one as well! ;oD
--
Lord Angelus: No, I don't think Haldir or Legolas are going to show up in this fic, as it is
based in Rivendell and they aren't there right now...
--
Jessica: Yes, I'm feeling a bit better now... And as for 'poor Gandalf', I am not done with him
yet! :oD
--
To everyone else who reviewed: a *very* big Thanks!! ;oD
A/N: Takes place the day after Gandalf's arrival in Rivendell. In other words, the night the
opening paragraph refers to is the one at the end of part 14.
*****
Saruman's Revenge
by SkyFire
Part 15
Gandalf, tired after the long night of trying to think up a 'cure' for Elrond and Glorfindel,
fell asleep shortly before dawn in the guest-room he had been given.
Come the dawn, the wizard lay on the bed in his chambers, fast asleep, the occasional light snore
escaping him. His white robe was rumpled, his pointy hat sat on a small table at the bedside.
His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and even.
Slowly, the door's latch turned, then the solid oak door cracked open an inch. In the crack
between door and jamb, a pair of eyes was seen; one grey eye and one green eye. Both eyes
quickly scanned the room, focused on the sleeping wizard.
The eyes disappeared for a brief moment, then the door swung open silently on oiled hinges. The
two small Elflings slipped quietly into the room, closed the door behind them with a soft click.
They froze when Gandalf snorted at the sound, only moving once again after he settled back down
into sleep.
Large eyes wide, the two younglings climbed up onto the bed-- Elrond on the wizard's left,
Glorfindel on the right.
Curious, Elrond reached out one small hand and gently pet the wizard's long beard. He giggled;
it tickled his palm.
Glorfindel copied his friend's motion, reaching out and petting the strange beard, scrunching up
his nose at the feel of it on his hand.
Neither Elfling could remember ever having seen anyone with such a thing on their face.
"It tickles my hand," Glorfindel said quietly.
"It can't be comfortable," Elrond said in return, equally quietly. "It has to be hot and
scratchy. He can't *really* want that on his face!"
Glorfindel was quiet for a long moment, then smiled widely when his friend looked over
questioningly. Eyes sparkling with well-intentioned mischief, Glorfindel produced a pair of
small items that had been forbidden the young ones by the Twins. "Maybe we can help?" he
suggested.
Elrond grinned back at his friend, nodding. He took the thing Glorfindel offered him, then both
quietly went to work.
***
Gandalf awoke perhaps an hour before sunset.
The first thing that registered was pain. Small pains- three or four- on his face.
The next was a strange feeling of weightlessness.
He raised a hand to stroke his beard as he pondered those two things. His hand landed on his
robe-covered chest.
The wizard's eyes opened wide.
His hand felt around. Left. Right. Up. Down.
Nothing.
Shaking, Gandalf sat up in bed and looked to the mirror on the wall opposite the bed.
The wizard's high-pitched scream echoed throughout the House of Elrond.
When Elladan and Elrohir arrived at the wizard's room scant minutes later, it was to find the
powerful Istari nearly in tears. They saw at once his clean-shaven face, the few cuts there. It
was very strange to look at him; never before had they seen him with a beard shorter than
waist-length, and now he had none at all.
"Gandalf?" Elladan dared to ask.
The wizard turned to face the Twins, was about to speak when the younglings came running into the
room. Both grinned proudly upon seeing the wizard and rushed over to hug him about the waist.
"Do you like it?" Elrond asked after the hug finished. "Now you won't be hot and itchy."
"Sorry about the little cuts," Glorfindel added, "the scissors slipped."
Little-Elrond looked over to his friend, poked him in the ribs with a finger. "Remember the
present?" he said quietly.
Glorfindel's eyes widened, then he grinned. He hurried across the room and crawled halfway under
the bed, to emerge with something in one hand-
Oh.
Elladan and Elrohir were hard put to keep their snickers from breaking free as the small
golden-haired child went back to the wizard and proudly presented him with the beard that had
just the night before been firmly attached to his face. Now, it was held together by a trio of
brightly-colored ribbons, clumsily tied in a big floppy bow.
Gandalf took the item from the beaming Elfling with trembling hands, his mouth opening and
closing like a beached fish, a strange faint hissing noise escaping him.
Glorfindel looked to Elrond, still smiling. "He likes it," he said in a loud whisper. "Just
look."
Elrond looked. And, with a hint of the insight that he had when grown, saw a bit more into
Gandalf's expression- or lack thereof -than Glorfindel had. He gulped. "Glorfindel?" he said
as he crept over near his friend. He spoke so quietly that even the Twins with their sharp ears
had trouble hearing him. "Remember when we had the porridge-fight, then the servants came in and
got mad at 'Rohir and 'Adan?"
"Yes," Glorfindel said, equally quietly. "Why?"
"Remember what they looked like? And the sounds they made right before they exploded?"
The small golden head nodded, then paused. The small body tensed noticeably. Ever so slowly,
the eyes turned to stare at the wizard. Wide eyes turned back to Elrond. "Uh-oh," was all he
said.
The two turned and bolted for the door, neatly avoiding the startled grabs of the Twins. The
door slammed shut on its own just before the two reached them, and the small ones careened into
it, unable to stop quickly enough. They slid down to sit on the floor, cluching at one another
and their new bruises. Both looked up fearfully as a shadow fell over them, whimpered as they
looked up into the red face of the wizard.
***
An hour later, Elladan poked his head into the wizard's room to check up on the small ones.
Elrond and Glorfindel were on all fours on the floor, scrubbing away. Their pants were soaked to
the knee, their arms nearly to the shoulder with soapy water from floor and bucket. Both were at
opposite ends of the room, slowly working their way towards each other. All the while, they
muttered under their breath about nasty old wizards who didn't appreciate all the trouble they
had gone to for his benefit....
As punishment for their act of destruction, Gandalf had set them the task of cleaning the room.
*All* of it: floor, walls, ceiling, furniture, bed.... And to make sure the small ones wouldn't
leave before their work was done, he had sealed the exits with a thin wall of energy that would
let all pass except them. They were stuck.
Elrond sensed the twin's presence at the door, glared over at him, in the worst show of bad
temper Elladan had yet seen from the youngling, a glare that spoke clearly without needing words:
Go away!!
The small dark-haired half-Elf sighed as he saw Elladan leave. Pausing for a moment, he brushed
a strand of hair back from his face with a soapy-wet hand. He glared around the room. He and
Glorfindel would finish the floor in perhaps another half-hour, then they would have to move on
to the walls. How could they do the parts beyond their reach? And how could they do the ceiling??
Surely the wizard had been kidding about that...?
A remembered image of the irate Istari presented itself in his memories.
No, he had looked *very* serious, and *very* upset.
Elrond sighed, transferred some of his angry frustration into scrubbing.
***
Late that afternoon, perhaps an hour before sunset, Gandalf and the Twins went back to the
wizard's guestroom to release the small ones from their punishment.
When they got there, they saw that the floor was spotless. So were the walls- the lower half
anyway, to just about the height a small Elfling would be when he stood on his friend's shoulders.
The ceiling was... hardly touched. All three wondered briefly how the small ones had managed to
get that much of the high ceiling done, until they caught sight of one of the boys' cleaning rags
dangling from one of the rafters. Obviously, the boys had tried to clean it by throwing the rags
up as high as they could, which probably stopped when their rags failed to come back down to them.
The bed was partially made. The huge sheets apparently had given the small ones quite a bit of
difficulty, though they'd done their best. Unfortunately, it appeared that in the battle of
Elfling against bedding, the bedding won. Both small ones were tangled up in the sheets so
tightly that the three adults knew there was no way the younglings could get free without help.
Both were sound asleep.
The trio smiled indulgently down at the two before gently freeing them, being careful not to wake
them. Each twin carrying a sleeping Elfling, they took them back to their father's bedroom to
lay them down the small time remaining until sunset.
Gandalf stayed in his room, his thoughts circling problem for which he had been called. He
sighed, looked out the balcony windows at the fading sky. Soon, the firey orb of the Sun would
sink below the horizon, and then he would be able to consult once more with the adult Elrond and
Glorfindel.
This was not a problem that could be allowed to continue for much longer, as it might for someone
of lesser importance. The half-Elf and his golden-haired friend were esential to the running of
the Elven realm of Rivendell. They could not afford to be absent half of the time.
In their father's room, Elladan and Elrohir carefully stripped the young ones and tucked them
into bed, covering them up gently and laying Fluffy against Glorfindel. Asleep, the two cuddled
up together, faces smooth and innocent.
And the Sun kept on sinking.
TBC...
Reading reviews is good for the plotbunnies... and the author... :o)