Jebb and dragonfly: Yes, I am laying the groundwork to make Anomen and Thranduil's reconciliation believable. Anomen simply can't be angry and resentful for 500 years and then suddenly turn into an adoring son.
Dragonfly and Volcanic Plug: It would indeed be kind of neat if Anomen went on the mission with Mithrandir, but as you will see in this installment, I have something else in mind for him, which I hope will meet your approval even if it wasn't what you expected.
Volcanic Plug: It may be that I didn't get many reviews for "The Nameless One" because I posted the whole thing all at once instead of posting installments. The finished story just sort of appeared on fanfiction one day, and I think maybe people figured there wasn't much sense in reviewing at that point. People seem to like to get in on the dialogue as a story is being created. Anyway, my ego was a little bruised when it looked as if the story was being completely ignored, but I have recovered, and people are more than making up for the lack of early reviews!
MoroTheWolfGod: Here you are!
Vocabulary
Noro lim—'Ride swiftly'
Saes—'Please'
Glumly Thoron and the twins sat with Baramagor and Anomen on the day before the latter two were to set out for Lothlórien.
"Anomen," said Elladon, "surely you can disguise yourself and slip in amongst us. I managed to evade the Elves who were escorting the wounded to Thranduil's Hall. If I could do that, you, who are the master of absconding, can surely do something similar."
Anomen shook his head. "I do not think so, Elladan. You were one among many, and Berenmaethor was willing to look the other way when you reappeared amongst the patrol. But the name and number of all who are to accompany Mithrandir are known to an exactitude. And Mithrandir would recognize me, no matter what disguise I adopted. Elves in Mirkwood had not seen me since I was an elfling; nor did they expect to see me. It was not too difficult to deceive them, especially as I was careful not to come too near to any of them. But Mithrandir has watched me grow from elfling to Elf. He knows my voice, my expressions, my mannerisms—he would not be fooled if I were to try to attach myself to his band of Elves."
"But," argued Thoron, "mayhap Mithrandir would ignore your presence, as Berenmaethor ignored Elladan's. Remember that it was Mithrandir who knew that you would disguise yourself and slip of the first time—and he did nothing to stop you. Indeed, it was Mithrandir who persuaded Elrond to command Glorfindel to allow you to rejoin the patrol."
Again Anomen shook his head. "No, Mithrandir and Elrond have both told me outright that this time there is to be no running away. If I were to show up, Mithrandir would send me straight back to Elrond."
"Anomen is right," declared Elrohir unexpectedly. "Mithrandir and Elrond have decided that it would be best for Anomen to go to Lothlórien. If they thought that his injury would permit him to aid us in this mission, then they would have allowed him to take part in it. It is not for us to try to skirt their commands just because it would please us to do so. We must remember that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few!"
Having delivered these words of wisdom, Elrohir folded his arms and looked loftily at his comrades.
"Elrohir," growled Elladan, "I think you were more fun before you became so, so—responsible about everything."
"Well," replied Elrohir, "I must be responsible because I am the older twin."
"You are not!"
"Yes, I am."
"No, you're not!"
"Yes, I am!"
"No, you're—"
Interrupted Anomen. "This is such an impressive display of maturity on the part of both of you."
The twins looked embarrassed.
"Do you know which of you is the older?" asked Baramagor.
"No," the twins chorused. They looked at each other and grinned.
"Ada," explained Elladan, "refuses to say which of us was born first."
"Yes," added Elrohir. "He says that in any event we were born 'joined at the hip', so it does not matter."
A figure approached the group just then. It was Elrond.
"Anomen and Baramagor are leaving on a journey tomorrow morning. They should be resting. And you," he said, turning to Thoron and the twins, "are leaving on a mission the day after that. You also should be resting. You may say your farewells now."
Reluctantly, the young Elves arose and wished each other well. As they parted, Elladan whispered to Anomen, "I still think you should give it a try. What have you got to lose?"
Replied Anomen softly, "Ada's respect."
Elladan considered for a moment and then nodded. "You are right, Anomen. That is not something I would want to risk either."
The next morning Baramagor and Anomen set out before dawn, with an escort of several older Elves, on the march back to the Rohirrim encampment. Glorfindel was arising at the same time that they were departing. After he breakfasted, he went to Elrond's tent.
"Elrond, when Baramagor and Anomen reach the Rohirrim encampment, I would like them to take my horse. It is larger, stronger, and faster than Baramagor's steed, and I would feel much more confident knowing that, in case of danger, they would be so well mounted. Will you tell them that before they depart?"
"I am sorry, Glorfindel. They left before dawn."
"So early?"
"I wanted them to journey as much as possible in the cool of the day. It will be less wearying for Anomen. Would you like me to send a runner after them to give them your message? If he hurries, he could no doubt catch up with them, for they will not be marching very quickly."
Before Glorfindel had a chance to accept Elrond's offer, cries broke out from the camp's perimeter. They were under attack once again. Elrond and Glorfindel both hastened to oversee the defenses, and there was no more thought of sending a messenger in pursuit of Baramagor and Anomen.
When Baramagor and Anomen arrived at the Rohirrim encampment, Anomen at first tried to convince his friend that he ought to be allowed to ride his own horse. He had succeeded in convincing himself that his Ada would not mind if he did so.
"No," said Baramagor firmly. "Lord Elrond specifically ordered that you were to ride with me, and he told me that I was not to let you sway me into breaking that order."
"But if he were here and saw how well I had endured the march, he would no doubt change his mind."
"No, Anomen. You are not going to get me to give way."
Anomen cast about for another argument. "Elrond and Glorfindel have both told me that, when circumstances change and the commander is not on hand to issue new orders, then the warriors themselves may adopt new tactics."
"You know very well that that rule applies only in extraordinary circumstances, and your desire to ride unaided does not fall into such a category."
No matter how hard or cleverly Anomen badgered Baramagor, the younger Elf remained steadfast. At last Anomen sighed and gave up.
"Very well, Baramagor, if you must be so stubborn. But I insist that I ride behind you instead of in front. I am not a little elfling who must ride before so that he can be held onto! I am perfectly capable of maintaining my grip without any assistance."
Baramagor's orders did not extend to the question of where Anomen was to be seated on his mount, so he let Anomen have his way in this.
They set out on a fine morning escorted by a score of Rohirrim. The first day passed without incident as they rode at a leisurely pace under a bright sun. Only on the second day, when they were well out of reach of any aid from their comrades, did the trouble begin. They heard howls coming from behind them. Looking back, they saw that wargs had been hidden in the tall grass to either side as they had passed. Now the beasts had emerged and fanned out, blocking any hope of returning to the Rohirrim encampment. They must either beat off the creatures or try to outrun them. And Lothlórien was still many leagues away.
The captain rode up to Baramagor. "You two hasten as quickly as you can toward Lothlórien. We will hold these wargs back and then come after you if at all possible."
Baramagor urged his horse into a gallop as they tried to cover as much distance as they could before the sun fell and made travel more difficult. From time to time they looked back over their shoulders but they sign no sign of either wargs or Rohirrim. When dusk fell they knew they would have to decide whether to pause where they were or continue on their way.
As it happened, come sundown they never had to make that decision. Wargs had materialized once the escort had been too far from the encampment to receive aid; so too more wargs came skulking out of the high grass when the two young Elves were at their most vulnerable.
"Anomen," gasped Baramagor, "we have no choice! We must ride through the night and hope that our horse does not stumble."
"Aye, but let me string my bow. We cannot make a stand against so many wargs, but I will try to bring down any that draw near."
And so the deadly race began, Elven horse against at least two score wargs. At least there was a full moon that night, a blessing both to the horse and to Anomen, who went through all the arrows in his quiver as he methodically picked off warg after warg. He then exhausted Baramagor's supply of arrows. Only two wargs then remained, but they seemed indefatigable, while the horse was starting to tire under its double burden. Soon the wargs were snarling and snapping at the heels of the mount, who was beginning to stumble, partly out of fear and partly out of exhaustion. Baramagor and Anomen knew that it would not be long now. Both were riding with drawn swords. Suddenly, Baramagor shouted "Noro lim" to his horse, swung a leg up and over the neck of the stallion, and leaped down onto the grass. "Noro lim!" he shouted after his departing steed, and he turned to confront the two snarling wargs.
Desperately Anomen tried to persuade the horse to stop but the steed seemed all too faithful to Baramagor's last words.
"He will die!" cried Anomen. "Baramagor will die unless you turn back! Saes! Saes! You must turn back!"
The horse slowed and came to a halt, shying nervously from side to side. At last the stallion made up his mind. He wheeled about and galloped back toward Baramagor as if he were a horse possessed by the spirit of the Mearas of ancient times. The sound of his hooves upon the plain was like the drum roll of a mighty army marching to defend its people.
Horse and rider breasted a rise to see a lone Elf being circled by two slavering wargs. His sword held out before him, Baramagor was twisting about, trying to keep any one of the beasts from getting behind him. The wargs for their part would take turns feinting a charge and then back off, instinctively aware that it was only a matter of time before their combined efforts would wear down their prey. As their victim faltered, they would strike and savage this small being who stood so futilely against them.
So intent were they upon their intended dinner, that they paid no heed to the raging stallion until it o'ertopped them, striking both to the ground with the force of its onslaught. Anomen had leaped to the ground just before the collision between horse and wargs. As one of the wargs attempted to arise from the ground, Anomen gutted it. Baramagor sprang forward and rammed his sword down the throat of the other.
The two Elves and their horse stood silently for awhile, their chests heaving, their breathing shuddery. At last Anomen and Baramagor looked about. In the distance they saw a forest, but it was not, they realized, the forest of Lórien. The wargs had been driving them south as they had pursued them. Anomen felt a chill pass over his spine.
"Yonder," he said to Baramagor, "yonder is Fangorn Forest."