CHAPTER THREE: RIVENDELL


"Wowww," Dewey said when he saw the valley of Rivendell laid out before him.

That is an understatement.

"There lies the Last Homely House," Legolas told the boys. "The House of Elrond. Hopefully we will find answers to your questions, as well as ours. May your hearts be cheered by the thoughts of good food and a comfortable bed."

Malcolm tossed his cloak back over his shoulder.

I love doing that. I'm going to get a cloak when I get home.

"Look, there are some other kids over there," he said, pointing across the valley.

"Those are not children," Legolas pointed out. "They are called hobbits. A messenger informed me they would be arriving near to this time."

"Hobbits?"

"A small people, but friendly, and quick to humor. I am sure that you and Dewey will find them good company."

"What about Reese?"

"We will try to keep him distracted with other things."

The elves led the way, and the three boys entered Rivendell in the early afternoon. They were escorted to a suite of rooms, each one larger than their house. Dewey entered one room and happily shouted, "a bath."

I know what you're thinking but after two weeks of hiking over mountains, a bath is a good thing, even for Dewey.

"Me first," Reese said as he knocked Dewey out of the way.

"There are three baths prepared," the escort told them. "After such a long journey we would not force any of you to wait."

"I'm not taking a bath with Reese in the same room," Dewey said defensively

"You don't have a choice, butt-breath, because I'm not letting you. I'm first."

"I saw a river. Can I just go swimming instead?" Malcolm asked. "I really don't want to deal with this."

"I will arrange separate bathing chambers at once," the elf said with masterly control. "You," he said, pointing to Reese, "will bathe here. If the two of you will follow me?"

As the disgruntled elf led them down a hallway, the hobbits that Malcolm had spotted earlier that day passed them and entered a room.

"Hot baths?" one of them called out in glee, then added, "Strider will have to bath elsewhere. All four are hobbit sized."

"You have an extra bath?" Dewey called out.

The hobbit looked at him and said, "You're small enough to fit. You're welcome to join us if you need." He took an exaggerated sniff with his nose. "And you do need, or else Merry smells bad enough for two."

"I'm Dewey," the boy called out and followed the three hobbits into the room, giving a shout of joy when they told him that none of them were named Reese.

"That leaves you," The elf said tonelessly.

The Ranger, Strider, came by and looked in the room, then smiled to the elf. "It seems my tub was stolen, not that I would fit anyway. Is this boy looking to bathe as well."

"He is," the elf admitted. "His brother does not like to share."

Great. He makes it sound like I'm four years old.

"I will take care of him, friend," Strider told the immediately relieved elf who quickly left. Turning to Malcolm, the man said, "You have a unique gift, youngling. You have annoyed an elf in his own house."

"I didn't mean to. Reese is such a jerk at times. I just didn't want to deal with him. And Dewey, well, he took your bath and . . ."

"Enough," the man laughed. "The name is Strider. And you are?"

"Malcolm."

"Well met, Malcolm," Strider replied grasping the boy's shoulder. "We have a quest for two clean baths, and good company, and I know where to find both." As they walked off, he asked, "Is that smell coming from you or me?"

*

"Great timing Stevie," Malcolm said into the phone, "You returned my call just when I got into the bathtub."

"Sorry . . . to bother . . . you," Stevie said. "But . . . I'm glad . . . you're alone."

"I'm not alone. Strider's in the tub next to mine. Stevie, I've got to tell you. This place is great."

"Did you . . . say . . . Strider?"

"Yeah."

"The . . . Aragorn . . . Strider?"

"I don't know where he's from," Malcolm said. Turning to the ranger he asked, "Stevie wants to know if you're from Aragorn?"

Strider startled, then asked in return, "Who do you talk to with your device? How does he know of me?"

"It's only Stevie. He's my friend."

"Malcolm . . ." Stevie called out. "Can I . . . talk . . . to him? It's . . . important."

"Uh, sure," Malcolm said, and handed the phone to Strider, who gingerly placed the mouthpiece to his ear. "It goes the other way," he told the man. Strider barked a short laugh and turned the phone around.

"Well met, Stevie," Strider said into the phone, then frowned immediately. "What deviltry is this?" He paused and added, "I understand, young sir. You have the right of it."

Fifteen minutes later, he handed the phone back to Malcolm. "Stevie will call again at a more appropriate time. He was very informative."

"What did he say?"

"Many things, most of which I am already aware. He knows the future and knows that it could change, but he has given me the heart to deal with the task before me."

"You're not going to tell me?"

"Stevie said you can read all about it when you get home," Strider said with an infectious smile, then settled back to soak in the hot water.

*

"I feel like a dork in these clothes," Reese mumbled as they waited to see Lord Elrond.

I won't say it. It's very tempting but I'm not going to. All right, I will.

"Clothes make the man, Reese. Ow."

"I'll figure it out later, Malcolm, but I know you insulted me. Ow."

"Watch who you're hitting butt-breath. I'm big enough to hit back. Ow."

"You still hit like a girl. The last one didn't even hurt. Ow."

"Malcolm. Reese. Stop fighting. Someone's coming. Ow. Ow."

"Stay out of this, Dewey."

"Yeah, if you know what's good for you."

*

Elrond left the council meeting with Gandalf and Strider, happy that the discussion came to a fruitful end. Preparations would begin to prepare the Fellowship for their dangerous trek to Mordor. Now he was free to take care of a confusing and much less important matter. Three boys, man children, had appeared in Mirkwood with a strange artifact that permitted them to talk to others in the land they came from. Despite this, they had no idea how they came to Mirkwood, or where their homes lie. It was his duty to see to their upbringing.

As Lord Elrond entered the waiting chamber, he found two boys rolling on the floor in a scuffle while their younger brother was indiscriminately kicking whoever was closest. "Excuse me," he said politely but loudly.

"Dewey, you kick me again and you're dead meat," Malcolm yelled back.

The wizard Gandalf looked highly amused.

"I think I can handle this," Strider said. He walked forward, drawing his sword. With his free hand he pulled Dewey out of the way, letting Gandalf hold the boy to stop him from kicking anyone. That done, he waited until the two boys rolled into the appropriate position and brought his sword down in the sudden gap between their faces and the tangle of arms. Both boys stopped in surprise as the blade appeared between them, but Reese recovered first and pulled Malcolm's head into the broad side of the blade.

"Ow. I think we should stop, Reese. We have company."

"Hey, it wasn't me. I was minding my own business, when Malcolm tried to pick a fight with Dewey. I had to step in."

That's a pretty good excuse for the spur of the moment. I have to give Reese credit for that one.

Strider offered Malcolm a hand, saying, "you have a unique talent, youngling. You have again annoyed an elf, and this one owns the house."

Elrond looked at the two brothers in their brand new torn clothes. "They can't stay here," he muttered.

"Bree," Gandalf whispered, "we can pack them off to Bree. They'll be safe enough there. There must be a farmer or crafter who could use three extra hands."

"Wonderful," Elrond whispered back, "We'll send them off in the morning." Talking loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room, he said, "Reese, Malcolm, Dewey, the council has come to a decision. We will send you to a place of safety, a town to the west, called Bree. Your guides will see that you are left in good hands before they return."

"We're being kicked out," Malcolm whispered to Strider.

"It would have happened anyway," Strider whispered back, "but they would have been nicer about it." He handled Malcolm's torn sleeve and commented, "I like your new tunic."

"It might be best if you started packing right away," Elrond added, "It will make the journey pass more quickly."

"Nice try," Dewey whispered to the elf. "Even Reese knows you're kicking us out of here."

"I can't help but notice that none of you are surprised," Elrond whispered back.

"Listen, Mister. I may only be ten, but I've already been kicked out of nicer places than this,"

"Really?"

"Well, no, but I've been kicked out of plenty of places."

"We believe you, son," Gandalf said with a patronizing smile, and released the boy from his grasp.

Dewey scampered away with Reese right behind him. Malcolm started to go, but was pulled back by Strider.

"You have been of great help to me, Malcolm, and I wish to repay you."

"But I didn't do anything. Not really. It was Stevie who talked to you."

"That is true, but it was your device. You also did something else. You showed me how innocent children can be, and how they must be protected."

"I'm not exactly innocent," Malcolm reminded him.

"If you were in Minas Tirith, that might be true, and that is where I would have sent you if the land was safer. But here you are innocent. You know nothing of your surroundings and must be shown everything. You know nothing of the wilderness."

He's making me sound like I'm four years old again.

"But I'm learning."

"You are, and your brothers as well. Reese will be a good man in a fight, and Dewey has taken to the bow like a young elf. I would not trust him at great range, but he can already hit his mark at closer distances. As for you, Malcolm, you will need to practice long and hard to learn these fighting skills, but you have a good mind and a quick eye."

"You're leading up to something."

"I am," Strider said, "I want to give you this, a token. I would also like to tell you a few secrets. Even in the west, things are not quiet. The Rangers can always use another pair of eyes." He took Malcolm aside, and they talked long into the night.

*

"What's this?" Pippin asked as he and Merry walked through Rivendell.

"I don't know," Merry answered as he picked up the phone. "Look at all those buttons." He pressed one and laughed when it made a tone. "It makes music."

"Hit a few more of them," Pippin suggested, "maybe we can figure out how to play a tune on it."

Merry started by hitting the button marked redial. After a short ringing sound, an angry voice was heard, "What is it? Don't waste my time?"

"It talks," Pippin said in amazement. "Say something to it."

"Say what?" Merry asked.

"What are you a couple of jerks?" the phone asked.

"I'll have you know . . " Merry said defensively.

"Oh, its you kids again. HEY, College Boy."

*

"Yeah, Malcolm. What happened?" Francis said as soon as he picked up the phone.

"This is amazing," a voice said at the other end, "It thinks I'm Dewey's brother."

Francis shook his head at the thought of talking to friends of Dewey. He made it a point to assume the worst. "This is Francis. I'm Dewey's oldest brother. Who are you? I can't hear you, talk into the mouthpiece. THE MOUTHPIECE. Do you see the holes my voice is coming out of. Talk into the other set of holes."

"Like this?" the voice asked clearly.

"Perfect," Francis said, smiling. "Now, who are you."

"Meriadoc Brandybuck at your service." the still amazed voice said.

"Meriadoc . . ."

"Call me Merry."

"Merry . . . why are you using the phone?"

"What is a phone?"

"I think it's what you're holding," Pippin told him, and shouted into the mouthpiece, "AND I"M PIPPIN."

"Thanks, Pippin, but you don't have to shout," Francis said. "But why are you using the phone."

"Oh, we found it," Merry answered.

"We were trying to play music on it," Pippin added.

"I've done that," Francis admitted, "If you hit the numbers in this order, you can play Mary had a little lamb . . ."

*

"It's not my fault," Malcolm said, "If you didn't start the fight, I wouldn't have dropped the phone."

"I didn't mean that," Reese said. "We had a good thing going, and you ruined it."

"Yeah, right. It's my fault you started a fight in front of the most powerful elf in the country."

"Good. At least you admit it."

Galdor interrupted, "Could you please try to have a civilized conversation."

With each other? Is he kidding?

Reese laughed. "What would we talk about?"

"That is a good point," Galdor admitted, and walked as far ahead as he could from the cart carrying the boys.

The two boys leaned back in the cart and listened as Dewey explained to the driver why he was so well liked by everyone. The driver would respond with a statement in the elfin language. Both Reese and Malcolm were correct in their guess that the words translated as "shut up. Please, shut up."

*

"It is always a pleasure to talk with elves," the merchant said, nervously eyeing the three boys standing in front of him. "May I interest you in any of my wares?"

"We thank you," Galdor said, "but we do not need any goods. We have been charged with the care of these boys, brothers, and we are seeking a home and livelihood for them."

"Good Luck," the merchant said. "We're not partial to strangers around here, and we have troubles of our own. You might try further west. I hear things aren't as bad there."

"No place is truly safe in these days," Galdor admitted, "but we saw how many goods you have and how little help."

"It's not for lack of trying," the merchant admitted, "I can't find anyone with a cart or wagon to move them. No one wants to travel because of all the rumors and the strange people about."

As the merchant talked to the elves, Malcolm devised a plan.

"Reese," he whispered, "you can drive that cart, right?"

"Yeah," Reese said carefully. "Are you thinking of stealing it?"

"Better yet, I think I can talk them into giving it to us."

"What good will that do?"

"It's simple. This guy needs all this stuff delivered. We get the cart, and get him to pay us to make the deliveries."

"Like the Pizza Guy? That's great," Dewey said. "We'll make lots of tips."

"Uh, yeah, Dewey. What do you say, Reese. They pay us for riding around."

"I like that," Reese asked, "but who's going to load the cart?"

Both boys looked down. "We'll find someone," Malcolm said, as Dewey cringed. Turning to the nearest elf, he asked, "How badly do you want to get rid of us?"

"It is not that we seek to rid ourselves of you, we are trying to find you a livelihood."

This is going to be so easy.

"I can do that for you, but it'll cost you a cart and a horse."

The elf looked at Malcolm, then at the cart, then turned back to Malcolm. "What is it you plan?"

"Simple. This guy needs these goods delivered. All we need is . . ."

"Done," the elf said, then turned to Galdor. "We have resolved the problem."