Elemental Flair: Yep, 'Uh oh' about covers it.
Gwil: I am glad I have managed to reassure you about the future direction of 'The Nameless One' series!
Grumpy: Anomen is careful to do all the talking with Saruman to forestall any heedless comments by Estel.
Farflung: No, you didn't overlook anything. Saruman's presence in Eregion has nothing to do with the council. Instead, as you will see, I invented a (I hope) plausible reason for him being there. By the way, thank you for alerting me to those errors in character names. I know there are some other errors out there. For example, at one point I confuse 'east' and 'west'! A some point I need to take a few days to correct and reload certain chapters.
It took a minute for Saruman to recognize the Elf. He had seen Anomen with golden hair and brown, but never bald. As soon as he realized who stood before him, however, the wizard was delighted. They were miles from Rivendell, with only Radagast as witness—and Radagast could be sent off on an errand.
"So happy to see me?" said Saruman sarcastically. He knew very well that Anomen had mistaken him for Mithrandir. He also knew very well that Anomen was uncomfortable in his presence, and that pleased him, although the wizard would have been even more delighted if he could have contrived to make the Elf much more than 'uncomfortable'.
"My Lord Saruman," said Anomen, bowing. "What brings you to Eregion?" he added uneasily.
"Oh, my dear friend here, Radagast, has convinced me to accompany him to some spots that he hoped would be of interest to me."
Radagast was not, of course, Saruman's 'dear friend'—the wizard was friend to nobody and certainly no one was 'dear to him—but he thought it politic to remain on good terms with anyone who might someday prove useful to him. He had little regard for Radagast, but Saruman was wise enough to know that even the least of creatures—or wizards—could be manipulated. And so he had indulged Radagast and joined him on a tour to some of the rustic places that were dear to the lesser wizard, friend as he was to beast and bird. Saruman had consoled himself with the fact that at least he could reconnoiter as they journeyed. He took careful note of the number and equipage of all whom they had met, listened carefully to their talk, and observed their fortifications. He had, for example, noticed with interest the poverty of the Dunlendings. It would be easy to corrupt people so desperate. But was that a Dunlending child who stood beside Anomen? Ties between Elves and Dunlendings would interfere with his plans.
"Who is this?" asked Saruman, glancing down at the small human.
"Estel," said Anomen. He almost added, "foster-son of Lord Elrond," thinking to thereby warn Saruman that Estel was not friendless. It occurred to him, however, that it might prove ill if he told the wizard that Estel had any standing in Imladris. He did not want to alert Saruman to the fact that Estel was of any importance. So he satisfied himself with saying, "Estel is my friend."
"He has an elven name," observed the Istar, "but is no Elf. Is he a Dunlending?"
"No," replied Anomen. "He comes from far away, from a northern realm." "Ah," said Saruman, pleased that the child had no connection to Dunland. To himself he added, "The brat must simply be some nameless urchin that the half-elven has taken in—another orphan like that wretched Anomen." The wizard dismissed the boy from his mind, his attention wandering back to the Elf. Saruman could see that Anomen had grown since their last encounter. He was no taller—Anomen would never be tall for an Elf—but he was more muscular. Saruman perceived that the Elf would be a formidable warrior. "Before he was a nuisance to me; now mayhap he will be a danger. I must somehow contrive to have him captured or slain—preferably captured, tortured, then slain. I must keep him by my side until I can rid myself of Radagast, and then my servants will seize him."
"You do not look well-provisioned," Saruman said to Anomen. "You and your friend must supp with us."
Anomen considered carefully. He was hungry, and the food had been prepared before he and Estel had arrived on the scene. No doubt it would be safe to eat. He would watch carefully, however, to make sure that Saruman did not slip anything into his portion. For Estel he had no fear. He was of no importance to the wizard.
"Thank you, Lord Saruman. And thank you, Lord Radagast," he added, turning to the lesser wizard. Radagast laughed.
"Lord Radagast!? Lord Radagast!?" he chuckled. "You have never addressed me so before, when I have visited in Rivendell. Pray do not do so now!"
It was all Saruman could do to keep from grinding his teeth. So Radagast, that clown of a wizard, had succeeded in winning Anomen's trust whilst he, Saruman, the greatest of the Istari, had failed to do so! Oh, yes, that miserable Elf was going to pay for his disrespect!
Oblivious to the tension between Anomen and Saruman, Estel and Radagast became good friends over their bowls of stew. To the wizard, the untamed child was rather like one of the wild creatures that appealed to him so. As for Estel, he sensed the goodness beneath the bushy beard and rough exterior of the wizard. Dimly, he understood that "All that is gold does not glitter." Saruman, however, the child ignored, which was just as well, as Saruman paid no attention to him, either.
Instead, Saruman watched Anomen like a hawk, and Anomen returned the favor. Saruman took some pleasure in reaching repeatedly over the pot of stew, having divined that Anomen feared being drugged or poisoned. Anomen went rigid whenever Saruman did so, and Saruman smiled with cruel pleasure.
At last Anomen's hunger was satisfied, as was Estel's. Anomen arose.
"Come, Estel. You must bid farewell to Radagast. You will see him in Rivendell from time to time."
Estel was disappointed but obediently stood up. Saruman, however, objected.
"Surely you cannot be thinking of wandering off alone. You must journey along with us for the time being. We will escort you to Imladris."
"Oh, no, I would not dream of imposing upon you. Nor would it be necessary. I am quite familiar with the way to Rivendell. Moreover, as we are overdue, no doubt Lord Elrond has sent scouts to meet us."
"If that is the case," said Radagast happily, "we can continue on our journey, Saruman."
Saruman forced a smile. "Very well, Anomen—although it seems to me that you should be more fearful of wandering about in the wild. One never knows what fell creature one may encounter."
Anomen met the wizard's eye with a steady gaze. "Oh, but one does," he replied coolly. Saruman was the first to look away.
Radagast, a generous soul, made sure that Anomen took away ample bread, cheese, and dried meat, although Anomen refused his offer of a flask of wine. It would be hard to tamper with bread, cheese, and dried meat, but wine could be easily adulterated. He did, however, accept an empty flask that he would fill with water at the first opportunity.
After Anomen and Estel had trudged off, Radagast and Saruman broke camp. Actually, Radagast broke camp whilst Saruman sat at leisure seething at Anomen's latest escape. But perhaps matters could be remedied.
"Radagast," Saruman said as that wizard secured the last saddlebag, "this has been a pleasant journey, but I must confess that I did not plan to stay so long from Isengard. I have enjoyed myself so immensely that I did not mark the passage of time. But Anomen's eagerness to return to Rivendell has put me in mind of the fact that I myself should turn my steps toward Orthanc."
"Must you?" said Radagast, disappointed. "There is so much more to see—so many more birds and animals that you may enjoy meeting."
With great effort, Saruman kept himself from sneering. Birds and animals indeed! Putting on a disconsolate face, he sighed, "Ah, I appreciate your desire to acquaint me with your friends, but I really must demur. No doubt we will join forces again some time."
"I do hope so," Radagast declared fervently. He held out the reins of Saruman's horse to him. The Istar of Isengard mounted and bade the lesser wizard farewell. Radagast headed off toward the east, planning to cross the Misty Mountains and so come at length to Lothlórien. Saruman turned his horse south.
Saruman had not ridden far before three creatures came out from the shadows of the trees to join him. Saruman bent down in his saddle to give them instructions, and the creatures scuttled off—heading northward. Saruman himself continued on his way south, but at an unhurried pace. He expected to be joined momentarily by an elven guest. As to the child, he had told the Orcs that they could kill him in whatever manner they chose—quickly if they were hungry, slowly if they desired entertainment.
Elves had once dwelled in Eregion, however, and the trees remembered. When they perceived that the Orcs were tracking Anomen, they began to call out to him in their silent fashion. Anomen heeded them immediately. His encounter with Saruman had left him wary. Nor would he never again ignore the voices of trees, as he had sometimes done when he was an elfling.
"Estel," he said urgently, "you must climb this tree and stay out of sight. Whatever happens do not come down unless I tell you to—and if I do not come back, wait until the scouts from Rivendell draw near and call out to them. Here. Take the flask of water and the satchel of food."
Estel nodded. Anomen's manner had impressed him with the seriousness of the situation.
With Estel safely hidden in the tree, Anomen began to scout for his pursuers. Only three. Good. Carrying scimitars but no bows. Also good. He and Estel merely needed to stay out of reach. As he watched, however, the three split up. Not so good. He now would have to keep watch on all sides. Still, the situation was not as dire as it could be. He and Estel would need to elude these Orcs for only a little while, for surely the Imladris scouts could not be far.
Anomen retraced his steps to Estel's tree. He was about to call out to the child when he was staggered by a heavy blow. Desperately he whirled about, but saw no one within reach. Then he was hit again and collapsed to the ground. As he fell, he briefly wondered how the Orcs had been able to strike from afar.
The Orcs carried no bows, but there are projectiles other than arrows. One of the Orcs, the cleverest of the three, had spied Anomen moving through the forest. He had seized upon two rocks and hurled them with all his might at the young Elf. Ai! His aim had been good. He called to his fellows and they scurried to the fallen Elf.
Anomen had been stunned so badly that he lay with his eyes closed. One of the Orcs raised his scimitar to finish off the helpless Elf.
"Wait!" yelled the cleverest of the Orcs. "Are ye fergettin' so soon. That looks like the Elf wot the master said we was to capture alive."
"Huh?" grunted Anomen's would-be murderer. "This in't an Elf. Gots no hair."
"Don' you remember, Dwarf-brain—Imladris Elf, younger and smaller than most? An' in pertickler, no hair. Mentioned it specific, the master did."
"What about 'im?"
"The reward, the reward! Don' you remember—master said th'reward 'ud be greater than we could imagine?"
Now in point of fact, an Orc has a very limited imagination, so it is not hard to offer one a reward greater than its mind can compass. The first Orc's eyes lit up as he envisioned something along the lines of fresh meat three times a day instead of rotted meat twice a day. Then his face fell.
"But what if this is the wrong Elf?"
"Look," his fellow explained patiently—patiently for an Orc that is—"he's here, and he's bald. Anyway, he don' look very heavy. So what've we to lose if we carry 'im to the master? If he's the right one, we get the reward. If he's the wrong one, well, he's still fresh meat, in't 'e? I'm not real hungry right now anyway, so I'm all for waitin' as it is. You know the minute you kill 'im, he's gonna start t'spoil."
His companions slowly nodded. "You know," one said, "I'm not all that hungry neither. Haven't finished digestin' that Dwarf, I think. He was kinda too fatty for m'taste. Alright, then, let's take this Elf t'the master."
"Good. You two take turns carryin' 'im."
"Why do we hav't' carry 'im!?"
"'Cause it was my idea, maggot-mouth."
"Oh." One of the two duller Orc pulled Anomen's knife from his belt and tossed it aside. He then trussed up Anomen and flung him over his shoulder.
"Yer right," he grunted. "Won't be much trouble carryin' im. Hope he is the right one an' we get the reward, 'cause if he in't, we're not gonna get much meat outa him."
Estel, clinging to the tree, had witnessed this entire scene. Anomen had said to stay in the tree if he didn't come back, but he had come back, Estel thought to himself. True, he'd been carried off by Orcs, but that happened after he had come back. That meant, Estel reasoned, that he didn't need to stay in the tree any longer. So down he climbed.
What to do now? Anomen had said repeatedly that elven scouts were heading their way. Should he hasten northward to alert the scouts as soon as may be that Anomen had been captured? Or should he go after Anomen?
Unbeknowst to Estel, but he was following in the footsteps of Anomen, who centuries earlier had been forced to make the same decision—whether to go back and alert the scouts or to himself attempt the rescue of his friend. Estel made a decision identical to the one Anomen had made so many years before.
"I don't know where the scouts are, but I know where I am," Estel declared to himself. He bent down and picked up Anomen's knife, slipping into his belt. Then, with the determination of a child who does not comprehend what he is up against, he marched off after the Orcs and their captive. It did not take long for him to catch up, and, again like Anomen, hidden in the undergrowth he trailed alongside them, watching for an opportunity to help his friend.
The Orcs and their captive arrived at the point where they had parted from Saruman, and they talked eagerly about bearing their captive on to the 'master' who they knew was not far ahead. In anticipation of the reward, they wished to let the 'master' know as soon as possible that they had done his bidding. The cleverest of the Orcs said to one of the duller ones, "Here, you, go on ahead 'n let the master know that we got these here Elf."
The chosen Orc trotted off. That left only two of the creatures, and Estel realized that the time to act was now. He would never face fewer foes.
Estel crept nearer. He had seen how the Orc had felled Anomen with a rock. He scrabbled about in the dirt until he had piled up several stones that were small enough for him to loft but heavy enough to do some damage. He took a deep breath and flung the first stone. It struck the cleverest of the Orcs square in the forehead and dropped him, like, well, dropped him like a stone. The other Orc, not too surprisingly, stood stupidly, gawking at his fallen companion. Within seconds Estel had brought him down as well.
The two orcs lay sprawled upon the ground. The cleverest one lay quite still, but the duller one was moaning. Estel drew Anomen's blade from his belt and sprang from his hiding place. He knelt by Anomen and cut the bonds that secured the Elf's wrists and ankles. Then he dropped the knife and tried to rouse his friend. He gently shook him by the arm, and he trickled water from the flask over his face. Anomen did open his eyes, but they were glassy.
The moaning Orc began to writhe about. Estel glanced anxiously toward him and then redoubled his efforts to wake Anomen. He shook him a little harder. He poured more water over his face.
The Orc's movements seemed to become more purposeful. He raised a hand to his face and rubbed at the spot where the stone had hit him. Estel leaped up and ran to the Orc. He picked up the rock and tried to hurl it onto the Orc's head. But the child's hands were shaking, and his aim was bad. The Orc grunted and shook his head. The glancing blow seemed to have roused him more than anything.
Desperately, Estel returned to Anomen and shook him violently. "Wake up, oh, wake up, please!" he begged. But Anomen's eyes were still glazed over, and he did not stir.
The Orc now was trying to push himself up on his elbows. His eyes were open, although unfocused. Estel was crying now, the tears streaking through the dirt on his face. He picked up Anomen's blade. Again following unawares in Anomen's footsteps, the child instinctively stood behind the Orc. As the Orc drew himself into a sitting position, Estel, holding the knife with both hands, threw all his weight into stabbing the Orc in the back of the neck.
Estel was lucky in his blow. The blade passed between two vertebrae and severed the Orc's spinal cord. He was dead before his body had slumped onto the ground.
Estel dropped down beside the dead Orc. Hugging himself, rocking back and forth, he sobbed convulsively. That is what Anomen saw when at length his eyes cleared and he looked about.
"Estel," he said softly.
The weeping boy did not heed him.
"Estel," Anomen said a little louder. The boy stared wildly at him, his chest heaving as he shuddered spasmodically.
Anomen felt too sick to move. "Come here, Estel."
The child crawled over to the Elf and curled up beside him, shaking uncontrollably. Anomen wrapped his arms around him. From somewhere in his memory came a song that his Edwin Nana had once sung to him. In his dizziness, he garbled the words and the tune somewhat, but Estel began to collect his wits.
"I—I—I—killed him," he gasped at last.
"Yes," said Anomen soothingly, "and it was a hard thing to do, wasn't it?"
"It wasn't—it wasn't hard for my hands," sobbed Estel, "but it was hard—somehow."
"The first time I killed an Orc, I had no time to think, so I did not tremble as you do now. But the first time I killed a Man, I felt very bad."
"Did you cry?"
"No. Other foes still lived. My friends and I had to escape, and I dared not cry. Then, too, I was much older than you are and so did not cry easily. When I at last wept it was much later, after the leader of my patrol had been killed at Dol Guldur. I cried for his death, but I also cried for the deaths I had caused, even though I knew those deaths were necessary."
"Necessary," said Estel softly.
"Do you know what that word means, Estel?"
"If something is necessary, it must be done."
"Yes," Anomen said simply. They lay quietly curled up together for a while longer. At last Anomen groaned. "We are not safe yet. We must make our way north. If only the patrol would find us!"
"Necessary," said Estel.
"What?"
"You are hurt, and I feel sick, but it is necessary for us to walk on nonetheless."
For the first time Anomen knew that this child was indeed the future king of Gondor. Never again would he doubt it.
Anomen sat up but winced as sensation began to return to his limbs. Moreover, his head felt as if it had been stomped on by a Troll.
"You can stand, can't you," asked Estel nervously. "One of the Orcs has gone ahead to fetch its master. We must leave this place as quickly as we can."
Anomen suspected that he knew who this 'master' was, but he also knew he could never prove it. In any event, the child was right. It was imperative that they flee with all possible speed. With Estel's aid, he arose to his feet and took a few halting steps.
"I can walk only slowly. But no doubt as I recover I will soon be able to move more swiftly. In any event, it is better to flee at a slow pace than not to flee at all!"
With that, the two resumed their trek northward. As they did so, Anomen, still a trifle dazed, did not think to make sure that both Orcs were indeed dead, and Estel had never been taught to do so. So it was that shortly after Elf and boy made their escape, the Orc who had at first lain still began to stir. He had only been stunned. Sitting up he looked about the clearing and spied his dead companion, blood pooling around his neck.
"Ugh, no reward," the creature blubbered, "and mebbe a whippin' to boot." He staggered to his feet. "Well, yer past pain," he snorted, kicking the dead Orc. "So I'll just blame it on yeh. I'd snack on yeh, too, if I had any appetite. Well, mebbe later."
With that the beast turned and began to lope southward. Before too long he came upon Saruman and the Orc who had run ahead with the news of their success. Saruman had reined his horse to a halt to allow the Orcs to bring up their captive. He stared stonily at the lone Orc that now approached him.
"Where-is-the-Elf?" he demanded through gritted teeth.
"Nasty thing got away. It was me mate's fault—but he's dead, curse 'im."
"How could a lone Elf have gotten away from two Orcs—and he was tied, was he not?"
"Oh, yes, master, trussed like a pig. Elves is amazin' creatures, in't they?"
"And the boy?"
"The boy?"
"Did you slay the boy?"
"Didn' see no boy."
No doubt, thought Saruman, the boy had something to do with the escape of the Elf. It dawned upon him that perhaps he should not have dismissed the urchin so quickly. In his rage and frustration, he snarled at the Orc. "Not only could you not hang on to a captive bound hand and foot, you could not even dispose of one small child!"
"I was only tryin' to bring back some fresh meat," whined the creature.
"Oh, do not let yourself be troubled," replied the wizard, "for you have surely succeeded in doing that." He turned to the other Orc. "Slit his throat."
Delighted, the Orc licked his lips and obeyed. Then he remembered the third Orc. "Uh, master, there was two wot stayed behind."
"Is that so," replied Saruman coolly. "Well, you may go recover the other carcass, if you wish."
"Oh, thank you, master!" chortled the Orc. He was now slavering at the thought of the sumptuous feast that awaited him.
The Elf whose escape had so enraged Saruman, and the boy who had helped him, were still hobbling through the forest as the one surviving Orc was planning his menu. Anomen's head hurt dreadfully, but he consoled himself with the thought that each painful step brought them that much closer to Rivendell. Surely they would not have to surmount any further obstacles or confront any additional foes. As he dwelled upon that idea, he heard a sound from up ahead that might or might not bode ill. Estel heard it as well.
"Horses," said Estel quietly. "But," he added, "we do not know if they bear friend or foe, so we must hide."
Impressed, Anomen nodded. The two turned aside into a thicket. Anomen believed that horses from the north most likely would be elven, but it was wise to be careful. They would risk nothing by being cautious, while failing to be so could be fatal.
Soon the horses galloped into view. Yes, elven. Elrond rode at the head, Berenmaethor following close behind. Anomen leaped up and hailed the elven troop. Estel arose and stood beside him.
"Anomen! Estel! Praise the Valar!" Elrond had dismounted almost before his horse had come to a halt. He gripped Anomen's arms. "You are hurt."
"A little."
Elrond knelt down before Estel and gently took hold of his shoulders. "And you, little one?"
"I am not hurt in my body."
Elrond looked searchingly into the child's face and nodded his understanding. There would be many quiet talks in the days to come. For now they would return to Rivendell.
Anomen rode behind Berenmaethor, and Elrond took Estel up before him. After several hours of steady riding they arrived at the Troll camp, deserted because it was daytime. Well, deserted except for Glorfindel, that is, who had been grimly sorting through cow bones. When he saw them approaching, delight briefly shone on his face. Then he remembered that he was the balrog-slayer, and he hurriedly composed himself.
"Hmmph. They're both safe, I see. Led us on a merry chase for nothing, I'll wager."
"I was almost eaten by Trolls," announced Estel.
Anomen looked askance at the child. They would have to have a conversation about the relationship between 'exaggerating' and 'lying'.
By early afternoon the next day, the Elves arrived back at Rivendell. Anomen stopped in his chamber for fresh clothes and then made his way straight to his favorite bathing pool to soak his tired and dirty body. Estel had different priorities. He went directly to the kitchen. Dumbfounded as surely as the Trolls had been, the head cook watched in disbelief as Estel marched past him and made a beeline for the fresh pastries. He picked out three of the most delectable ones. Then, after a moment's pause, Estel picked out a fourth one for good measure. He stuffed two in his tunic and held one in each hand. Smiling at the head cook, the child sauntered out the door. The cook's mouth worked as he tried to speak. At last he gave up, and shaking his head mournfully, he returned to rolling out dough for meat pies.
The evening meal Anomen and Estel took privately in Elrond's chamber. Only Arwen and Elrond jointed them. Arwen hovered over Estel, making much of him. Anomen thought it was a good thing that on the morrow Arwen was departing for Lothlórien. Otherwise Estel would be spoiled rotten. Elrond was thinking along similar lines, although his conclusion was strengthened by his memories of how Arwen had made much of Anomen in past centuries. Anomen was oblivious to the fact that he had been spoiled rotten in his day.
Elrond insisted that Anomen and Estel turn in immediately after the evening meal. Bedtime was delayed only long enough for Elrond to apply an unguent to Anomen's head that would help along the regrowth of his hair. Then it was off with the tunics and leggings, on with the nightdresses, and into their respective beds. Anomen didn't mind the early bedtime, for it meant that he could lie quietly and think. Estel, however, was not one to lie still and meditate. Anomen could hear him rustling about restlessly. At last the child spoke plaintively.
"Anomen, when I was frightened by nightmares, my Momma and Papa let me climb in with them."
Huffed Anomen indignantly, "I am neither your Naneth nor your Adar!"
"Oh."
Silence for awhile, then snuffling.
"Estel?"
"What?"
"You're not crying, are you?"
"Course not!" sniffed Estel.
Anomen groaned. "Oh, very well. Come on. But you had better not kick!"
Estel bounced into the bed.
"Ooooomph!"
"I didn't kick!"
"No, you just jumped on me!"
"But," repeated Estel, "I did not kick!"
"Fine. Do not kick, bounce, wiggle, squirm, tumble, jounce, jump, wriggle, twist, or fidget. If it involves movement, do not do it!"
Estel lay very still for a moment.
"Anomen?"
The Elf sighed. "Yes?"
"You smell funny."
"I smell funny!?"
"Yes. You smell like a pine tree."
"Must be the pitch the twins poured on me," said Anomen wryly.
"No, you smell more like the sap from a newly cut branch. I like that smell."
"Oh."
A few more minutes of silence passed.
"Anomen?"
"Yes."
"How do I smell."
"Truly?"
"Truly."
"You smell as if you were sprayed by a skunk a few days ago and as if you hadn't had a bath today."
"It's true that I haven't had a bath today," said Estel earnestly, "but I can't help the skunk odor."
"Estel, aren't you the least bit tired."
"No. Are you?"
Anomen had to confess that he was not.
"Now you are wriggling, Anomen."
"I know." Anomen sat up and looked toward the window. Outside, he knew, a ladder-like trellis rested against the wall.
"Estel," he said, his eyes shining. "Since neither of us is tired, I have a marvelous idea. You like climbing, don't you?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Good. Let's get dressed. Climbing is like lying—an excellent survival skill. One must lie creatively; one must climb creatively. That means being alert to all possible climbing opportunities."
"Climbing opportunities?"
"Yes. One must recognize that even objects not intended to be climbed upon can indeed be so used. I will give you your first lesson this very night."
A short while later, Glorfindel, out for a stroll in the garden, caught sight of a scene with which he was all too familiar: Anomen scaling a trellis that was growing more and more crooked as the centuries passed. Then, as Anomen reached the ground, the balrog-slayer was horrified to see a second, smaller figure sliding over the window sill and taking hold of the trellis.
"Oh, no," he spluttered. "Oh, no." Unable to utter a more coherent thought, Glorfindel turned away. He had better go and retire for the night. No doubt it would be best if he were rested on the morrow—and on many morrows to come!
And we reach the end of another of Anomen's adventures. Whatever will happen to him next!? And Saruman: will he begin to twitch uncontrollably like the chief inspector in the Pink Panther movies? Will Glorfindel add Estel to his to-be-skinned list? Will Erestor run screaming from the library once Estel finally makes his entrance into that chamber? Will Elrond develop a facial palsy from excessive eyebrow exercise? Stay tuned!