Ai! I don't think I can write fast enough to satisfy MoroTheWolfGod (throws a hunk of meat from the back of the sled to buy off the wolf that is snapping at the runners).
You are right, dragonfly32: Rúmil and Orophin cannot tease Haldir this time; in fact, they are likely to be teased themselves. By the way, you may not want to be so hard on Glorfindel (hint, hint). Also, I think Mithrandir can be forgiven. After all, Saruman has been a close colleague, and they do belong to the same order, so they are 'kin' in a way. And, yes, Saruman will appear again. Circumstances will be life-threatening, but I won't say to whom.
Dûrrandîr—'Dark Pilgrim' or 'Dark Wanderer' (cf. Mithrandir)
Sadormîr—'Faithful Jewel'
The Lady of Lothlórien usually summoned an Elf only when she was ready to speak with him. Although held in awe by all, she never presumed that others were lesser beings whose times and tasks were so unimportant that she could leave them idling until she saw fit to turn her attention to them. This courtesy she extended to even the youngest of the novices. Great was Haldir's surprise, then, when he was kept cooling his heels at the base of the mallorn tree that supported her talan. Perhaps, Haldir mused, this unusual state of affairs resulted because she was closeted with Mithrandir and their deliberations had gone on longer than anticipated. To his even greater surprise, then, did he learn from a passing Elf, one of Celeborn's messengers, that Mithrandir had left the Land of Lórien that very morning. For what reason, then, had the Lady summoned Haldir only to leave him to dawdle purposelessly?
As Haldir sat at the base of the tree puzzling over the Lady's unaccustomed behavior, Celeborn's messenger returned, followed shortly thereafter by—Rúmil and Orophin!
"What are you two doing here!?"
"We have been summoned by the Lord Celeborn."
"But where is Anomen? Oh, do tell me that you have entrusted him to another member of the patrol!"
"No," said Rúmil. "Anomen declined that offer of hospitality, for he was tired and wished to return to your talan."
"You, you, you—dolt! Do you truly believe that he will be at my flet!?"
Just at that moment, one of the Lady's servants descended from the talan to summon Haldir into her presence.
"Ai! What will I say to the Lady Galadriel? How can I tell her that Anomen has given me the slip twice in one millennium!?"
"Has the Lady kept you waiting long?" asked Orophin.
"Yes. Unusually so."
"I think," said Orophin shrewdly, "that you will not have to say anything at all to the Lady. More likely than not, she will tell you exactly where our fugitive guest has gotten himself to."
"You think so?" Haldir looked hopeful.
"Yes, brother," laughed Orophin. "I suspect the Lady has been enjoying herself a little at your expense!"
Haldir sighed. "I wish that she would pick on someone else to sport with the next time the fancy strikes her! You know what everyone else in the patrol is going to say until the changing of the moon, don't you?" He began to ascend the stairs, but then he stopped and turned to look down at his brothers with a gleam in his eye. "Of course, this time I may not be the only Elf who will have to face the music."
Orophin and Rúmil looked uncomfortable. Rúmil protested, "But Haldir, we were summoned by the Lord Celeborn! We couldn't very well have refused to do his bidding!"
Just then Celeborn's messenger came down the stairs.
"Rúmil, Orophin," he called. "Your presence is no longer needed. Lord Celeborn says that you may return to your companions."
Rúmil and Orophin now both looked a little green. Haldir smirked. "Farewell for now, O vigilant guardians of our guest from afar." With that, Haldir resumed his ascent toward the Lady's talan, leaving two discomfited Elves in his wake.
The cause of their embarrassment had meanwhile been making his steady way westward. The horses of the Imladris Elves had been sheltering in a pleasant glade near the border of Lothlórien. The glade appeared empty when Anomen reached it, and at first the young Elf feared that his horse had been led away with the others when the Rivendell Elves had set out for Thranduil's realm. He knew from experience that it was a long walk to Greenwood! Fortunately, however, his horse was merely resting in the shade of a tree at the edge of the glade, and as soon as he spotted Anomen, he came racing toward him.
"Ah, Sadormîr! Anomen cried in relief as the horse nuzzled his neck. "You would never desert me! Come, we must pick up the trail of the others, although we must not come too near."
By nightfall Anomen had drawn close to his companions, for they had in fact had only a few hours head start. When he spotted a campfire in the distance, he dismounted and led Sadormîr into an area of scrub to keep him out of sight. Then he crept forward on foot, making his way carefully around bushes and across a stream, until he could see the Elven figures clustered around about the fire, talking and eating.
"Berenmaethor," Anomen heard Glorfindel say. "As Anomen is not here, who now is the youngest Elf?"
There was a chorus of voices in reply: "Thoron!"
The Elf in question groaned but arose and began to gather dishes. Shortly thereafter he vanished beyond the ring of light, going off toward some source of water, as Anomen well knew.
Anomen crouched in hiding for a while longer, wishing that he could join the merry group camped so close to him. At last, he quietly arose to make his way back to Sadormîr, his one companion for the time being. He crept back around bushes toward the stream. Rounding the last bush, he well nigh tripped over Thoron, who knelt by the bank collecting horsetails for the scouring of pots. Thoron sprang to his feet; Anomen drew up his hood and lowered his head, allowing his hair, which he had never rebraided after dying it, to hang over his face.
"Mae govannen, mellon," said Thoron. "Are you alone?"
Without lifting his head, Anomen nodded.
Thoron placed his hand on Anomen's arm. "There is room by our fire, and food to spare as well. Come and join us."
Anomen shook his head, but Thoron gripped his arm tightly and said, "Oh, but I do think you should." He sounded amused.
Knowing that to struggle would only bring the other Elves swarming, Anomen reluctantly let himself be pulled toward the camp, keeping his head down all the while.
When they entered the camp, no one seemed to be surprised that Thoron had returned with a strange Elf. "Mae govannen," several called out, and the Elves made room for Anomen at the fire. A bowl of stew was placed in his hands.
"Thoron," called Erestor, "what is the name of your dark-haired friend?"
"You are called 'Dûrrandîr', is that not so?" said Thoron.
Anomen nodded his head, and ventured to peek through his hair at Thoron. His friend was smiling. Then he glanced toward Glorfindel, who sat silently across from him. Glorfindel was not smiling. Anomen ducked his head back down.
"Well," said Erestor, "perhaps, if Dûrrandîr is traveling on his own, he might like to join our company."
Anomen stole another glance toward Glorfindel. The balrog-slayer's face was unreadable. He looked toward Thoron, who was mouthing the word 'Yes'. Anomen nodded.
"Do you have a horse hereabouts, Dûrrandîr?" asked Erestor.
Softly, Anomen said, "Aye."
"Then I suggest you bring it nearer to the camp. Place it amongst our herd, where it will be safer."
"Yes, I will, Lord Ere—um, Lord."
"By the way, my name is Erestor."
"Yes, I will fetch my horse at once, Lord Erestor."
Anomen sprang to his feet and bolted from the camp.
"Thoron," said Glorfindel, breaking his silence. "Follow our guest to make sure that he does indeed return to camp. He very much reminds me of an Elfling who has a habit of disappearing."
Thoron hurried after Anomen and accompanied him as he went to fetch his horse. On the way back, they stopped to retrieve the dishes.
When they returned to the camp, Glorfindel was still sitting by the fire, finishing his meal. When he was done, he at last addressed Anomen.
"Dûrrandîr, you look quite young—even younger than Thoron here."
"Yes, I am no doubt younger than Thoron."
"Well, we have a custom that the youngest in the company washes dishes and performs other chores."
Glorfindel arose and tossed his now-empty bowl into Anomen's lap.
A wave of laughter swept through the camp. Anomen gazed up at Glorfindel's face. To his utter amazement, the balrog-slayer gave him a wink before striding off to set the watch.
TBC