MoroTheWolfGod: Oh, very well! Here's another one. Your appetite is insatiable!
Farflung: I can imagine writing a story from Thranduil's point of view, but I think it may be a while before I get to it. It will definitely be on my 'to do' list.
Kawaii ningen kitsune: As promised, one (actually two) slimy, sticky messes coming up.
Gwil: Hope things improve. In the meantime, here is another installment for your amusement.
Jebb: I can take a hint!
Lembas7: It wasn't the end of the story, which now continues with the arrival of Estel in Rivendell. 'Redivivus' means 'to live again' or 'to be reborn'. It's a fancy way of saying, 'He's baaaa-aack'. I actually have started sketching out one post-ROTK tale that includes, among other characters, Legolas (under his real name!), Gimli, and Aragorn. It is not anywhere near completion, however, and "The Nameless One" series keeps sidetracking me. By the way, a special 'thank you' for your response to "Fellowship of the Philologists." I had hoped to make it a series that would lightheartedly identify some of the more common writing mistakes, but there doesn't seem to be an audience for it. Oh, well. Timewise, "Fellowship of the Philologists" is completely AU, and it is not part of "The Nameless One" series.
Dragonfly: Estel is now officially in the mix.
Note on Estel's age. In the Appendix to ROTK, Aragorn is described as having been two when his father was slain. Of course, a two-year-older can be as old as two years, eleven months, and thirty days, so I take the liberty of imagining that he was nearly three at the time of his father's death, and I also add in some time for the journey that he and his mother would have made in order to reach Rivendell. Soooo, in my story, I've made him roughly four. That way he would have developed enough speech and behavior so that he could interact in interesting ways with the other characters. I hope I haven't done extreme violence to the chronology in doing so.
Several months after the Elves had returned to Dol Guldur, Erestor went to Elrond and recommended that certain changes be made in Elrohir, Elladan, and Anomen's living arrangements and daily routine. He opined that it was time that each young Elf be given a separate bedroom.
"Elrond, they are reaching the age when they are going to desire more privacy. And, I might add—" Erestor paused. How to say this?
"I might add that in these last few months it has become apparent that they are getting too old for their lessons in the library. I think they must be set at liberty to pursue more, more—hands-on instruction."
"But, Erestor," Elrond protested, "they will simply waste their time if they have no lessons. It seems that lately, whenever they have a free minute, they spend it loitering about with the Elf-maidens!"
Erestor sighed. How could such a wise lord be so obtuse when it came to certain matters?
"Elrond, I know it has been many ages—three, to be exact—since you were a young Elf, but surely you can remember that at a certain point you began to develop interests that involved, ah, a weapon other than the sword or the bow!"
Elrond stared at him for a moment. Suddenly he grasped what his friend was driving at.
"Oh," he said sheepishly. "Um, well, you have been their tutor; if you think they would benefit from spending their time on, ah, other pursuits, I will not gainsay you."
"Good," exhaled Erestor, much relieved. The last few weeks had been hellish, for the young Elves had their minds on anything other than their lessons. Any time an Elf-maiden chanced to walk by a window, three heads would swivel, necks craning until the maiden was out of sight. Erestor had toyed with the idea of moving the lessons into a room without a window, say the wine cellar, but he suspected that even so he would be fighting the proverbial losing battle.
A few weeks after this conversation had taken place, two of the Elves under discussion, Elrohir and Elladan, were devising a plan for an exploit with which they intended to cover themselves in glory. Unfortunately, to cover themselves in glory, they would have to cover Anomen in—something else.
Almost as soon as Anomen had arrived in Rivendell, he had impressed everyone with his almost preternatural ability to remain clean. Whenever Anomen accompanied Elladan and Elrohir on their missions of mischief, the twins would return with clothes torn and soiled, but Anomen would stroll back into the Hall as if he'd merely been at tea, his hair tidy, fingernails clean, clothes unrumpled and unstained. For centuries Elladan and Elrohir had enjoyed twitting Anomen over his tidiness, but they had decided that it was time for more radical action. They planned to cook up a foul-smelling concoction in a kettle, hoist the vessel into a tree, and upend it over Anomen as he climbed out of his favorite bathing pool, preferably before he had a chance to pull on any garments.
To set their plan in action, they first needed to secure a kettle. This would have to be purloined from the kitchen whilst the head cook was absent. The other cooks might look the other way, but the head cook had, over the centuries, grown to be wary whenever the twins were spotted in the vicinity of the kitchen. The head cook's culinary creations had been spoiled far too many times than he cared to count by the addition of supernumerary ingredients. For this he blamed Elladan and Elrohir, and a permanent state of war now existed between cook and twins.
The twins sauntered by the kitchen several times, glancing in at windows and doors. The head cook was nowhere to be seen.
"Elladan," said Elrohir, "I will go after the kettle. You stand watch. If the head cook returns, give me plenty of warning. Remember that he has threatened to add me to the menu if he ever again catches me in the kitchen!"
Elladan took up a position from which he could see anyone approaching the kitchen, and Elrohir went into the kitchen, smiling innocently at all and sundry. No one was fooled, of course, but no one was about to stop him. The twins were adored whilst the head cook was not.
Unfortunately for Elrohir, his brother almost immediately became distracted at the sight of a small party of Men riding through the gates of Rivendell. Elladan glanced around quickly and saw no sign of the head cook. He decided that there could be no harm in briefly abandoning his watch. Of course, even the worst writer of third-rate fantasy fiction could have predicted what would happen next: as soon as Elrohir departed his post, the head cook returned lugging a sack of flour that he had gone to fetch from one of the storehouses.
Elrohir had just selected a kettle that he thought would be suitable. He hoisted it, turned about—and found himself staring at the head cook's apron.
"I would have thought you too old for this sort of mischief," growled the cook. "Shall I have your father summoned?"
"Oh, no, please!"
"Glorfindel then?"
"NO!"
Shall I just settle things myself, then?"
Elrohir nodded mutely.
"I hope," teased the cook, "that you don't think yourself too old to scrub pots because a great quantity of them are in need of scouring. Or mayhap you would prefer scalding and plucking all these fowl?"
"Pots are good," said Elrohir meekly. How humiliating! Glorfindel had at last grudgingly conceded that he and his brother were too old for skivvy duty in camp, and now here he stood in full view of a kitchen filled with Elf-maidens who were bending their heads together, whispering and giggling and staring while trying to appear as if they were not. The mortified Elf did his best to pretend that he did not notice. After a while, however, Elrohir could no longer force himself to ignore the comments and the sidelong glances, for he found himself growing increasingly interested in these Elf-maidens. In fact, he suddenly realized, his interest was not the only thing growing. Oh, no, he moaned to himself, this was the second time in a week that this had happened! Whatever was wrong with his body that parts of it should rise unbidden? There must be something the matter with him! Perhaps he should ask his father—no! that would be too mortifying! Glorfindel? Only slightly less mortifying. Erestor? Out of the question!
His nerves and muscles taut, Elrohir frantically daubed at the dish before him. His splashing attracted the attention of the head cook.
"Here, you, you'd better not be making a mess there!"
"I'm trying not to," squeaked Elrohir. "Truly, sir, I am trying not to. But it is very hard," he added with a gasp.
"See that you control yourself," warned the cook. "Ah, the dough has risen. I'd best punch it down."
Elrohir moaned faintly. He scrubbed, he dried, he polished. At last the cook pronounced himself satisfied.
"Very well, then, I think you're done."
Elrohir stepped back from the table. The cook laughed.
"Why you're no better than a little elfling! You're all wet down your front!"
Elrohir let out a wail. Thoroughly unmanned, or unelfed if you prefer, he shot from the room, leaving the cook perplexed.
"Wouldn't have thought that such a little thing would have upset the lad so." The cook shrugged and turned back to punching down the rising dough.
Meanwhile, Elladan, oblivious to his brother's plight, was watching his father greet the Men who had just arrived in Rivendell. One he recognized as Halbarad, who had fought alongside the Elves at Dol Guldur. A second, hooded Ranger, proved to be a women once her cloak had been removed. She looked soul-worn and dispirited. If she had been an Elf, Elladan would have thought that she was fading. A third Man, who rode before Halbarad, proved to be a child of no more than four in Man years. Elladan thought he had never seen an urchin so scruffy and disheveled. His brown hair was tangled, his clothes dirty and tattered.
"I have seen Orcs better groomed," Elladan whispered to Anomen, who attracted by the bustle, had joined him.
"Yes," agreed Anomen. "If fact," he added with a grin, "he makes you and Elladan look neat."
It was all Elladan could do to hide his smirk. "Just you wait, Anomen," he thought to himself. "You'll get your comeuppance soon enough."
At that moment the lady, who had dismounted, suddenly swayed and would have fallen had not Elrond reached out his hand and grasped her arm.
"Take this Lady to the House of Healing," he commanded one of the servants.
"My son," she said faintly.
"Fear not, Lady Gilraen. He shall be looked after."
"Yes," Halbarad assured her. "I will stay by his side until all arrangements have been completed for his upbringing."
Gratefully, the lady nodded, and, gently supported on either side by an Elf-maiden, she was led away to the House of Healing.
Elrond then commanded that Halbarad and the child likewise be escorted to a chamber where they could rest and refresh themselves.
After the guests had departed, Elrond turned to Elladan and Anomen. "I wish to speak to you, as well as Elrohir, in the library. Fetch Elrohir and join me at once."
"Yes, Ada," the two replied, and then they hastened off in search of Elrohir. Elladan felt guilty when he realized that he had completely forgotten his promise to Elrohir, and his dismay increased when he peered in at the kitchen door and was greeted by a grinning head cook.
"If you are looking for your brother, I believe he has run off to change his clothes. He got a little messy whilst in the kitchen."
Elrohir was indeed in his room pulling on a fresh tunic and leggings. He stared balefully at Elladan, who prayed that Elrohir would not decide to make him rather than Anomen the target of his next prank.
After Elrohir had tidied up, the three hurried to Elrond's sanctum. As soon as they entered the chamber, they realized that a matter of great importance was about to be discussed. Sitting to either side of the Lord of Imladris were Glorfindel and Erestor, and all three Elves looked grave. Elrond gestured for the three young Elves to take a seat.
Elrond commenced. "As Erestor has been your tutor, I have no doubt that you are familiar with the Battle of the Last Alliance."
The three young Elves nodded their heads.
"You, Elrohir, tell me a little about the outcome of the battle."
"The Dark Lord was defeated, the ring cut from his hand by Isildur. Ai! the victory was dear, for Isildur was then slain by some of Sauron's surviving forces."
"And," Elladan continued the story, "the line of Gondorian kings was broken. For the lives of countless men Gondor has been ruled by a Steward, and no one now looks for the return of the king."
"Yet return he shall," declared Elrond. "Through many fathers, the Ranger child who arrived today is a direct descendant of Isildur. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn—and heir to the throne of Gondor."
The young Elves stared at Elrond wordlessly. That scruffy child was potentially the king of Gondor!?"
Elrond smiled dryly. "I will admit that he does not look like the heir to a throne, but so he is. His father was but lately slain by Orcs, and his surviving kin have brought him here in hopes that we will give him sanctuary and raise him to adulthood. I have agreed."
"I tell you this," he continued, "because safeguarding the child shall be your task as much as mine. You will defend him both through force of arms and through your silence. Force of arms you understand. As for silence, the name Aragorn, son of Arathorn, is to be forgotten, even by the child himself. Henceforth he is to be addressed as 'Estel'. His true name is never to be uttered."
"Oh," said Elrohir flippantly, "we have had much practice in that!"
Elrond quelled his son's glibness with a single withering glance that required only the barest movement of his famous eyebrows.
"Now as to his upbringing, Erestor, you of course will be his tutor, and Glorfindel will supervise his weapons training. Since he has but newly arrived, I do not wish to put him in a chamber by himself. Anomen, as you know what it is to be a fosterling, I will put him in your room for the time being until it seems good to me to make different arrangements."
Anomen was horrified. He was to share a room with that grubby urchin!?
"But, Ada, the child is so, so, so—"
"Dirty?" suggested Elrohir with a smirk.
"That problem can be addressed," observed Elrond. "I have given orders that a cauldron of warm water be placed in your antechamber, as well as a stock of soaps and cloths. If you don't want Estel to contaminate your pristine chamber, then no doubt you should give him a bath directly."
Elrond arose. Keeping his face straight, he could not resist adding, "It does seem fitting, Anomen, that you be the one to give the child a bath, as cleanliness matters greatly to you and much less so to my other sons." With that, he nodded his dismissal of the three young Elves.
As soon as Anomen, Elladan, and Elrohir had stepped outside the chamber, the twins began to twit Anomen.
"Well, Anomen," teased Elladan, "you have an opportunity to spread your gospel of tidiness."
Added Elrohir, "Now that's what you call 'ironic'. Indeed, if Erestor were to ask for an illustration of 'ironic', I think this situation would do nicely, don't you think, Elladan?"
"Hmm, I think we could call it an example of 'poetic justice'."
Anomen glared at the twins. "Will you at least help me?"
"Oh, no," said Elrohir with a virtuous air. "Ada has charged you with this task."
"Yes," Elladan chimed in. "As Ada said, 'cleanliness matters greatly to you and much less so to' us! This is no affair of ours!"
Chortling, the twins strolled off.
Anomen asked a passing servant which guest room had been assigned to the Rangers and went off to get acquainted with his new foster brother. He found him perched on a window sill, lining up toy warriors into battle formations. Halbarad, who sat before the fire, oiling his sword, had taken advantage of the opportunity to freshen up, but Estel was as dirty as ever. He stared suspiciously at the Elf.
"I am Anomen."
Silence.
"And you are Estel?"
"That's a silly name. I want my own name."
"Estel is a good name. It means 'hope'."
"I still like my name."
"You have not lost that name. You must merely put it aside for awhile."
"Why?"
"Until you can best make use of it. You would not want to wear it out, would you?"
The boy looked at him solemnly. "Can a name be worn out?"
"Oh, yes. Which is why we wish you to put aside your name for a while, to safeguard it so that it will remain unstained. When you do take it out again, it will be as shiny as ever."
"And my father's name?"
"Shall be as bright as yours."
This seemed to satisfy Estel.
"Do you like horses, Estel?"
The boy nodded.
"Would you like to see the stables."
"Oh, yes!"
"And then would you like to see the armory and the training fields?"
"Yes!"
"Afterward I shall show you your room."
"This is my room. I'm staying with nuncle Halbarad."
Halbarad spoke. "Since arrangements have been made for your care, I shall be leaving before dawn tomorrow."
"But I want you to stay with me!?"
"If I did so, I would have to give up all hope of tracking down the Orcs who slew your father."
This the boy understood, although he still looked sad. Anomen tried to cheer him.
"Your mother will be remaining in Rivendell."
Estel shook his head gloomily. "She has gone to the House of Healing. I won't be with her very often."
"But," said Halbarad, "you will be spending much time on the training fields."
Estel lifted up his head, his eyes shining. "Yes," he said softly, "and someday I will hunt Orcs."
Estel proved to be an engaging companion as he went with Anomen on a tour of Rivendell. He asked shrewd questions for his age and showed every sign of being fearless, especially with regard to horses. He would have entered each and every stall if Anomen had permitted him. Indeed, when Anomen turned his back briefly to exchange pleasantries with a stableboy, Estel began to climb into the stall that housed Glorfindel's great stallion.
"Estel, what are you doing!? No one enters that stall but the Lord Glorfindel!"
"Why?"
"That horse is loyal only to him. He is likely to trample anyone else."
Estel looked unconvinced, but suffered himself to be led to the next stall. Anomen began to dare to hope that the human would be an agreeable addition to their family circle.
Anomen's budding optimism, however, was sorely tried when it finally came time to introduce Estel to his bath.
"What's this?" Estel asked suspiciously when they arrived at the antechamber and he spied the cauldron of warm water.
"Elrond has had a cauldron of warm water placed here for your use."
"What am I supposed to use it for?"
"Why, to bathe in."
"I do not wish to bathe."
"A boy who will someday bear an unstained name should keep his body clean to match his name."
"Oh," said the boy, "then I shouldn't have to take a bath until you give me back my name!"
Anomen felt a little faint at the horrifying prospect that Estel would go several decades without taking a bath.
"But, Estel, even when a sword is not being used, it is kept clean. Did you not notice how Halbarad was oiling his sword?"
"I am not a sword," the boy said stubbornly. "And," he added, his face disingenuous, "you said I must not wear out my name. I don't want to wear out my body either. I am afraid that will happen if I wash it too often."
This boy, mused Anomen, was very clever for one so young. I course, he was one of the Dunadain, so mayhap it was to be expected that he would have unusual powers.
"Water will not wear out your body, Estel."
"Water can wear even rock, and I am softer than rock! Near my old home, there is a flume as polished as a shield. I used to slide down it all the time, and I was not scratched even once!"
"Yes, well, but that was worn by flowing water, and it took eons. This is merely a cauldron of warm water, and you will only soak in it for a little while. I do not think it will wear you away."
'Well, I am not going to risk it," Estel declared stubbornly.
Anomen decided that reasoning with Estel would not work. He would simply have to insist that the child take a bath. He took a step toward Estel, who retreated a pace and then darted to the side, placing the cauldron between himself and Anomen. A game of Goblin and Dwarf ensued, with Anomen feinting this way and that, but Estel always anticipating his moves and evading him. At last Anomen decided to simply lunge at the child. This was a mistake. The boy nimbly leaped aside, and Anomen tumbled, fully clothed, into the cauldron. Estel darted out the door, to be shortly replaced by Elladan and Elrohir, who, attracted by the hubbub, had come to investigate.
"Why, Anomen," said Elladan, his face solemn, "how very clever of you."
"Yes," agreed Elrohir, "Anomen is always so careful to keep clean, and now he has discovered a way to wash himself and his garments simultaneously."
Anomen seized a sponge and threw it at Elrohir, who dodged it. The wet sponge sailed past his ear and hit Glorfindel full in the face as he entered the room dragging a reluctant Estel by the wrist. Horrified, Anomen ducked completely under the water, but it did him no good, for the balrog-slayer reached down and with his free hand pulled him up by his braids.
"So this is your idea of giving Estel a bath, is it?" growled Glorfindel.
"He didn't want to bathe."
"Oh, and you did?"
"I fell in," said Anomen faintly. He heard laughter and to his mortification saw Arwen peeking into the room. Estel caught sight of her as well and stopped trying to peel Glorfindel's fingers from his wrist. He stared at her with frank interest.
"Perhaps," Glorfindel suggested hopefully, "Arwen can persuade Estel to take a bath."
"Oh, yes," said the child. "I will take a bath for the lady!" With that the boy shed his clothes with such alacrity that Anomen and the twins hooted with laughter. Arwen blushed.
"Out! Out!" shouted Glorfindel, pushing Anomen and the twins toward the door. "As you three are incapable of bathing one small child, at least you can make yourselves useful by making yourselves scarce!"
Elrohir paused as he reached the door. "Oooh," he simpered, "I will take a bath for the lady!" Glorfindel cuffed his ears, and he scampered after the other two Elves. When he reached them, they all chorused as one, "Oooh! I will take a bath for the lady!" With that they hastened out of sight, for the look on Glorfindel's face told them that if they did not, he would 'wipe the floor with them'.
The next day, sharing a glass of wine with Erestor and Elrond, Glorfindel laughed as he told them the story. Elrond, however, grew thoughtful.
"All these years I have been raising Arwen in the company of hellions, first two, then three, and now four. If she has grown up to be a lady, I cannot take credit for it!"
"Perhaps," said Erestor, "she ought to spend some time with her grandmother. Galadriel has asked repeatedly that you send Arwen to Lothlórien."
Elrond nodded. "Yes, I think she should. It would do her good to visit for two or three decades with Galadriel, who would help her polish her appearance and demeanor. Arwen excels at horseback riding and other such pursuits, but she models her speech and behavior too much upon her brothers."
"But," Glorfindel pointed out, "if you send her away, Estel may never again take a bath!"
Elrond scoffed at that. "Surely in a house full of grown Elves, someone ought to be able to get one small boy into a bathtub!"
"Ah," said Glorfindel, "but this 'one small boy' is remarkably strong-willed, a trait that will serve him well some day but now means only trouble for the rest of us. I predict that much water will be spilled ere long."
"Oh," said Elrond airily, with a dismissive gesture, "we can mop up water easily enough."
"You can," retorted Glorfindel. "I am glad to report that in a few days I will be leading a patrol to the border of Dunland. I can truthfully say that it is quieter out there!"
Just then a knock was heard upon the door.
"Enter," called Elrond.
Elrohir and Elladan stepped into the room.
"Here come two of the miscreants now," said Glorfindel darkly. He had the satisfaction of seeing both young Elves blanch. Elrond, however, gestured at them to take seats, and he offered each of them a glass of wine.
"Well," he said in a genial voice, "what brings you to my chamber?"
"Ada," said Elladan, "Elrohir and I have been discussing the fact that we are no longer required to attend lessons in the library. We have been considering how best to use our new-found freedom, and we have decided that we would like to go on patrol."
"Oh, and why the sudden eagerness to leave Rivendell so soon after returning from the battle for Dol Guldur?"
Elladan spoke. "Ada, Mithrandir impressed upon us the fact that the danger has not truly abated. Now is not the time to relax our vigilance."
This explanation sounded too facile to Elrond. "Have you any reason other than that general one?"
"Yes," said Elrohir, "Estel's coming here has reminded us that Orcs still ravage Middle Earth. We would still avenge our Naneth, and now there is Estel's father to think of as well."
"I hope," said Elrond sternly, "that you have not once again fallen prey to a rash desire for vengeance."
Elrohir reassure him. "The 'desire for vengeance', yes, Ada, but a 'rash desire', no. Elladan and I are ever mindful of the torments that Naneth suffered at the hands of the orcs, but we are both clear sighted and able to ride into battle calmly and purposefully.
"Very well, ion-nîn. Glorfindel here will be leading a patrol out in only a few days." Elrond enjoyed Glorfindel's horrified expression.
"But, Ada," said Elrohir, "that patrol is for the purpose of training novices."
"Yes," agreed his father, "and you can contribute much to their training, experienced as you are."
"True," said Elrohir, "but we do wish to merely track our foes. Our goal is to engage in battle with Orcs, whilst novice patrols try to avoid contact with the enemy."
Elrond sighed. "I cannot deny your request. You are both old enough and, I deem, wise enough. Of course," he added, "your pranks do sometimes force me to doubt the latter!" He arose to formally give them his blessing.
Truth be told, Elladan and Elrohir had not given all their reasons for wanting to go on patrol. The two young Elves had been comparing notes and had discovered that they were both suffering from an excess of, one might say, animal spirits. They were looking forward to vigorous outdoor exercise partly in hopes that it might somewhat abate their discomfort. But they had no desire to explain that to their father, and they had been honest in the reasons that they had given.
Once the twins had their father's permission, they retired to their respective rooms to pack their saddlebags. Then they met in the garden to enjoy a last stroll around Rivendell.
"Elladan," said Elrohir as they stood looking out over the river, "we will not see Anomen for several weeks."
"True," said Elladan.
"It would be a shame if we did not leave him something to remember us by."
Elladan's eyes sparkled. "What did you have in mind, brother?"
"We never had a chance to brew up that concoction that I wished to pour over his head as he left his favorite bathing pool."
"Ah, and it would be a shame if we failed to execute such a brilliant plan."
"Truly a shame, yes."
"To the kitchen, brother!"
"Wait a minute, Elladan."
"Yes, Elrohir?"
"This time you must promise that you will warn me if the cook is coming!"
Shamefaced, Elladan nodded.
A short while later, the twins had procured a kettle and carried it to a spot near the bathing pool. Into it they dumped every substance they could think of that was sticky or smelly or, preferably, both. They heated the concoction over a blaze, stirring it vigorously until it had the consistency of a glutinous pudding.
"We must hoist the kettle into the tree at just the proper moment," observed Elladan. "How are we to know when the time is right?"
"As for that," replied Elrohir, "I think Estel may be of some use. Keep stirring and do not let the fire go out."
Elrohir went off in search of Estel. He found the boy in the stables, staring in fascination at Glorfindel's stallion.
"Estel," said Elladan. "Would you like to help us play a trick on Anomen?"
"What kind of a trick?" asked Estel suspiciously.
Anomen hates being dirty. We thought we would pour some mud on him. Wouldn't that be fun?"
Estel considered. It would pay Anomen back for trying to give him a bath. He nodded.
"What shall I do?"
"You will be our lookout. You must come running as soon as Anomen decides to bathe. Can you do that?"
Estel nodded.
"Good. Come with me, then, and I'll show you where we are hidden."
The two returned to the spot where Elladan was tending the kettle. When Estel caught a whiff of the concoction, he grinned. It would be marvelous indeed if Anomen were to smell like that!
"Now," said Elrohir, "you come running here just as soon as Anomen decides to bathe. That will give us enough time to hoist the kettle into that tree over there."
Estel grinned and scampered back to the Hall, where he vexed Anomen for the rest of the afternoon by dogging his every step. At last, in exasperation, the Elf announced that he was going to take a bath. He was sure that the mere mention of that subject would drive away the imp.
As Anomen had hoped, Estel darted away upon hearing the word 'bath'. As fast as he could, the boy raced to Elladan and Elrohir.
"Anomen will be here soon," he panted.
"Excellent," gloated Elrohir. With a coiled rope over his shoulder, he climbed the chosen tree and lowered the end of the cord to Elladan, who tied it around the handle of the kettle. Elladan climbed up the tree to join him, and the two of them pulled the kettle up to the limb on which they perched, a limb that overhung the path leading to the bathing pool.
"Estel," Elrohir called down from their hiding place. "Can you stay down there until Anomen arrives?"
"Why?" asked Estel, suddenly suspicious again.
"Anomen's senses are keen. He is likely to notice the peculiar odor of our concoction. But if you are there, I think he will not. He will, ah, he will be—distracted by your presence!"
"Oh, of course." This made perfect sense to Estel, and it did not occur to him that Elrohir was being anything less than complimentary.
So it was that when Anomen arrived at the bathing pool, he encountered Estel sitting upon the bank, idly dipping his feet in the water, the only part of his body that he would willingly immerse—unless he were sliding down a flume, of course.
"Estel, what are you doing here!?"
"Sitting."
"But why are you sitting here!?"
"It is a nice place to sit."
"Would you please go sit somewhere else so that I may bathe in privacy."
"I don't get to bathe in privacy."
"That is because if you are left alone, you do not bathe at all!"
Anomen arose. "Very well," he said, with all the dignity that could be mustered by an urchin. Off he stalked. After he had gone a little ways, however, he crept back as close as he could. A muddy Anomen was something he had to see!
Elrohir had been right. After Estel departed, Anomen wrinkled up his nose, then shook his head and sighed.
"That human is so smelly that even after he is gone his odor remains!"
With that, Anomen shucked off his clothes and dove into the bathing pool. He meant to do a meticulous job of cleansing himself, and so he washed not only his body but his hair, unbraiding it to soap it as thoroughly as possible. Elladan and Elrohir were ecstatic. Anomen would be at the height of pristine purity when they baptized him with their putrid concoction.
At length, Anomen climbed out of the bathing pool and stood for a moment to allow the water to drip from his body. It was then that the twins upended the kettle, allowing the foul mess to cascade onto Anomen. The unfortunate Elf began to stagger about, quite unable to see, for his eyes were glued shut. His mouth, however, was working, and he uttered curses in every language he knew—Quenya, Sindarin, Dwarvish, Rohirric, and the Common Speech. Had he known any oaths in the Black Speech, no doubt he would have uttered those as well. Hearing the racket, Estel took to his heels.
Another Elf who heard the uproar was Thoron, who was passing by on his way back from the archery fields. He came running, fearful that some foe had slipped into Rivendell and was attacking his friend. He stopped, aghast, when he saw Anomen. completely covered in some sticky substance.
"Anomen," he gasped. "What has happened!?"
"I'll wager Elrohir and Elladan have happened!" spluttered Anomen.
With that, Elrohir and Elladan could no longer restrain themselves. They burst into laughter.
"Come down from that tree and help clean him up," yelled Thoron.
"We're coming," the two chortled. Abandoning the kettle, the twins climbed down. Thoron and the twins led Anomen back into the bathing pool and began trying to remove the mess from his skin and hair. Still unable to see, Anomen stood in water up to his waist as his friends soaped him up and scrubbed at his hair and skin. After several minutes it became apparent that the concoction could not be removed easily. Indeed, by leading Anomen back into the water, his friends had probably made matters worse, for the goop had solidified as it cooled.
"What," hissed Thoron through gritted teeth, "did you put in this concoction? Do not tell me that you included pitch!"
Elladan and Elrohir had to admit that pitch had been one of the ingredients. Thoron groaned.
"And how were you planning to remove it once it hardened!?"
"Well," suggested Elrohir, "perhaps we could light a fire and hold Anomen over it until the pitch begins to soften."
Anomen let out a shriek that would have frightened a Ringwraith, and Thoron hastily reassured him that no one would hold him over any flames.
At last the Elves had to reluctantly concede that nothing they could do would free Anomen from the hardened pitch. They had succeeded in pulling off a few small strips, but that was all.
"We are going to have to take Anomen to your father," said Thoron solemnly. "No doubt in one of his many books he has a recipe for an antidote to pitch."
Miserably, Elladan and Elrohir nodded. They led Anomen from the pool and wrapped him in their cloaks, although so thoroughly coated was he that he could have returned to the hall unclad without scandalizing anyone's sensibilities.
As they approached the Hall, a number of Elves gathered to enjoy the most peculiar sight of Elves leading a walking blob of pitch, and someone ran on ahead to inform Elrond that his sons had been up to something. He met them at the door to the Hall.
"Pitch," he said grimly. "Why does it have to be pitch?"
Elladan and Elrohir looked down at their feet. Their father handed Elladan a scroll that listed a great number of plants.
"Off to the woods, you two, and bring back these plants as fast as you can. I have a small stock and so can begin cleaning Anomen—it is Anomen under there, isn't it?—but I will need much more than I have on hand."
Elrond led Anomen to the antechamber of his room, where earlier the bathing cauldron for Estel had been set up. He mixed up several herbs into a paste and, with the help of Glorfindel and Erestor, began the task of softening, dissolving, scrubbing, and peeling the pitch. He also made judicious use of candles, so Anomen was, after all, held over a flame—or parts of him anyway.
It is a good thing that Elves sport very little facial and body hair, else the process would have been excruciatingly painful for Anomen. As it was, as the older Elves peeled patches of the goop from him, a fair amount of skin came away with the pitch.
At last all the pitch had been removed from Anomen's body, leaving him looking very pink. All that remained was the hair. Ai! it was clotted and tangled, and the pitch could not have been scraped from it without tearing out Anomen's hair by the roots.
At last Elrond stepped back in defeat. "Anomen, I cannot remove this foul mess from your hair. Glorfindel," he said, turning to the seneschal, "he is all yours."
Grinning, Glorfindel pulled out his knife and moved toward Anomen. The young Elf's shrieks rang throughout the Hall. The twins heard Anomen's cries in their rooms, where they had taken refuge after returning with the herbs, and his howls penetrated even into the Hall of Fire, where Estel was hiding.
When the seneschal was finished, Elrond nodded in satisfaction. "You have done an excellent job, Glorfindel. I think shaving it off altogether was far preferable to leaving an uneven fringe all about. His hair will look neater as it grows back than it would otherwise."
Glorfindel gave an exaggerated bow. "Thank you, Elrond. And now, if you will excuse me." Glorfindel made for the door.
"Where are you going now?" Elrond called after his friend.
"Oh, I have two other young Elves that I mean to skin—unless you object."
"Glorfindel," replied Elrond, a grim smile on his face. I do not object in the least."
That night, Anomen and the twins would have given anything to have been excused from dinner, but Elrond insisted on their presence. So there they sat, looking down at their plates, certain that every whisper, every laugh was directed at them. They wished they could pull up their hoods, but Elrond had a strict 'no hoods at the table' policy. The twins at least could find consolation by reminding themselves that they would be departing in the morning in pursuit of Orcs. Ai! Anomen had no such comforting thoughts to indulge in!