Jebb: Your wish is my command. Here is another chapter, and there will be one more chapter in this story. Then I'll start a new one.
FarFlung: You are of course correct in saying that if Estel hadn't run off then Anomen and the twins "would have been in deep trouble." This fact is the only thing that is going to save the little human from being 'skinned' by Glorfindel—that and the fact that he is really too little to be of much use at scouring dishes or polishing shields! About the Goblins: left on their own, they would be as stupid as Orcs, but these are half-goblins. They've been bred with Men. Remember the character in Bree (book version) who had Goblin features?
Grumpy: Yep, that's Estel: takes "a battle with Orcs to get him to stay in one place"! I've got an idea for a story that will finally cure him of his illicit roaming. (It will involve Estel's teeth.)
Karri: At the moment I am sure that Elrond would agree with you that Estel is more trouble than the twins and Anomen combined. However, give me a few more days, and I'm sure I can cook up an adventure for those three that will change your minds!
Ky: I love that phrase of yours: Anomen's "personal dirt-shield." O.K. if I slip it into a story?
MoroTheWolfGod: Aha! I've got you figured! You like it best when a chapter is chock full of angst and action! Ai! You're going to have to put up with some 'cuteness' in the chapter after this one, but I'm sketching out another story that will be satisfyingly gory, I think.
Dragonfly: Yes, Estel inadvertently saves the day—which is the only thing that will be standing between him and Elrond and Glorfindel's wrath!
The battle over, Elrond immediately set about checking on the welfare of his companions. To his relief, he soon saw that injuries were few, and those minor. He was glad not only for the sake of his warriors but because, had an Elf died, his words to Estel would have to be even harsher than they were going to be. But those words would have to wait. Once he had checked on his companions, his next responsibility was to see that the surviving Orcs and half-goblins were put to death as painlessly as possible. He gave the order and surveyed the scene as scouts went methodically from fallen foe to fallen foe, slaying any who survived with a quick thrust to the throat. Suddenly Elrond realized that Baramagor was stooping over the half-goblin who had so brutally flung Estel into the midst of the battle.
"Wait," commanded Elrond. He strode over to the half-goblin and stared down upon him with a stony face. "Do you truly deserve a clean death?" he said aloud.
"You are asking the wrong question," said a gentle voice. "Rather you should ask what it is that you deserve."
With a start, Elrond realized that Glorfindel had quietly approached and now stood by his side.
"What do you mean?" asked Elrond, bewildered for once.
"Never have we asked whether the Orcs we dispatch deserve to die painlessly. For it is not their welfare for which we are concerned. No, rather we kill cleanly out of concern for ourselves."
"Concern for ourselves?" Elrond thought he understood Glorfindel's meaning, but just this time he wished to be reassured by hearing someone other than himself rehearse the argument.
"Yes," said Glorfindel. "Elves do not wish to be degraded into beings who relish the sufferings of others. We do not wish to become creatures like these Orcs. We may feel rage at the height of battle. We may feel fear. These emotions are not only just but necessary. Today these emotions helped you to slash your way through your enemies. They may have turned the tide of battle. But do you wish these same feelings to rule your life after the battle has ended? They will cut you deeper than any sword."
Elrond pondered. Yes, he had felt rage and fear when he had seen Estel hurled into the mêlée, and those emotions had indeed carried him through a host of foes. But for all his rage and fear, in the end it had not been hate for Orcs that had motivated him. No, it had been love for Estel. It was not, he understood now, always necessary to suppress his strong feelings. But it was imperative that he act upon them in an appropriate manner, at the appropriate time. He had been right to decapitate and disembowel Orcs in his desperate attempt to rescue his fosterling. But now he had no excuse to act so. He had no need—neither, he realized, did he in fact have the desire. For what he felt now was neither rage nor fear but sorrow mingled with relief.
Elrond conceded to himself that if he tormented the half-goblin that lay dying before him, it would not be in order to save a companion or a kinsman. It would be purely to take delight in the creature's suffering. And in order to do so, he would have to rekindle his own hate and fear without any good object in mind. He would have to summon up the emotions that completely governed these fell creatures all the hours of their days and all the days of their lives. Elrond shook his head. Revenge was not worth it, the price being so high.
Elrond stooped down over the half-goblin. "I do this for myself, not for you," he said dispassionately. With one quick movement the elf-lord allowed the creature as easy a passing as possible. Then he exhaled deeply and stood silent for a little. When at last he spoke, it was with ruefulness. "This day, mellon-nîn, I feel as I have been little more than an elfling," he said."
"You did not fight like an elfling," observed Glorfindel. "Not many Elves can cut an Orc through at the waist. I myself have done that no more than three times that I can recall.
Elrond looked down at his blood-streaked hands and then raised one to his equally gory face. His skin was beginning to feel tight as the blood dried upon it.
"I think I will now indulge myself in a dip in the stream that Anomen says is nearby."
"Do not go alone," warned Glorfindel. It may be that there are still some Orcs skulking about. And those half-goblins are very clever—it wouldn't surprise me if one or two escaped during the battle."
Elrond nodded. "I will ask Anomen and the twins to join me."
"Yes, Elrohir and Elladan certainly look as if they could use a bath." Glorfindel laughed as he added, "But, as usual, Anomen does not appear to need one."
"Oh," said Elrond, laughing as well, "that won't stop him from bathing anyway."
"You are right, of course," agreed Glorfindel. "Estel can't be made to bathe, but Anomen cannot be stopped from doing so! Thranduil must have been a stickler for cleanliness."
"What does Thranduil have to do with it?" asked Elrond, instantly cautious.
"Oh, ah, well, as Thranduil is the king of Mirkwood, and as Anomen grew up in Mirkwood, no doubt he would have been influenced by practices at the Great Hall. Subjects generally emulate their rulers, as I am sure you know!"
Elrond nodded, and a look of understanding passed between the two elf-lords. Glorfindel had his ideas as to why Elrond continued to harbor Anomen, but he was not about to press his friend on the matter. Partly, he was sure, Elrond was genuinely concerned that Anomen would be ill-served by being forced back before he was quite ready to return. Glorfindel sometimes also wondered whether Elrond had some strategic goals in mind. By raising Anomen in Rivendell, Elrond was forging loyalty and affection in the young Elf. That would make for good relations between Mirkwood and Imladris once Thranduil decided to depart for the Undying Lands and Anomen ascended to the throne. Glorfindel also occasionally wondered whether Elrond had in mind a match between Anomen and Arwen. No stronger link could be forged between the two realms. He always dismissed that idea from his mind, however. Elrond loved Arwen so much that no doubt he would sooner see her married to a human than forced into a political marriage! Finally, Glorfindel was more than a little suspicious that Elrond had grown so fond of his fosterling that he was reluctant to let him go for that reason alone. On this score Glorfindel—and Erestor, with whom he had at length discussed the matter—felt some anxiety lest Elrond willingly deceive himself into believing that Anomen needed to remain in Rivendell longer than truly necessary. Two conversations that he had had with Elrond were cases in point. One took place after he and Erestor had returned from negotiating with Thranduil over the Council; the second after he had come back from the Battle of Dol Guldur. In both conversations, Elrond had again and again returned to Thranduil's apparent lack of emotion over the loss of his son.
"So he did not seem at all moved when Erestor expressed his condolences?" Glorfindel remembered that Elrond had asked the same question over and over again, the wording varying slightly each time.
"No, Elrond, but the setting was public; mayhap Thranduil's reaction was meant for public consumption as well."
Elrond had shaken his head, unconvinced. "Nay, Thranduil is a cold one. Such an Elf should not be entrusted with the raising of a son."
Mithrandir had been present at this particular conversation. "Have a care, Elrond. It is not given to us to decide who has and who has not the right to their own children!"
"You should speak!" Elrond declared hotly. "You have a hand in this matter as well as I!" Then he stopped, aware that he had come close to breaching their unwritten understanding to never acknowledge outright Anomen's parentage.
"Well, well," said Mithrandir in a conciliatory tone, "we all of us want to do what is best—for all concerned. No one doubts you, Elrond."
"Then let us drop this matter," demanded Elrond.
Irked at his friend for once, Glorfindel could not resist one final shot. "If I recall correctly, 'twas you insisted on bringing up the subject in the first place!"
Elrond glared at him, his facile eyebrows contracting violently. Glorfindel, to the amazement not only of Elrond and Mithrandir but himself, responded by sticking out his tongue at his old friend!
Elrond truly did 'laugh so hard he cried', and Glorfindel followed suit. As for Mithrandir, he was incapable of speech for a good quarter of an hour. Even then, for the rest of the day he would from time to time begin chuckling in the middle of a sentence, no matter how serious the subject. By the end of the day, Erestor thought the three of them quite mad!
Standing on the field of battle, Glorfindel found himself laughing at the memory of that day.
"Glorfindel, are you alright?" Elrond's voice interrupted his merriment.
"Yes, Elrond, I was merely indulging myself in a memory. You go now and indulge yourself in that bath."
In short order, Elrond, Anomen, and the twins were splashing water over themselves and washing away the grime of battle. As they did so, Elrohir remembered a thought he had had just before the Orcs and half-goblins had unleashed their attack.
"Ada, you said that you knew of a concoction that would remove the dye from our hour. I for one would like to make use of it. I do not think brightly colored hair is wise for a warrior who wishes to remain undetected!"
Anomen and Elladan concurred.
"Very well. As soon as we return to Rivendell, I will mix up some of the wash. I think you are wise, my sons, in returning to your former hair, and I hope that, when it comes to your future pranks, that hair will now be off-limits!"
Anomen and the twins assured him that it would be.
At that very moment, their hair was in fact a topic of conversation. Glorfindel was right. Two half-goblins had indeed escaped from the mêlée.
"We'd best get back to the master an' tell'im wot's wot."
"You kin go back t'the master. The last fella brought 'im bad news, he had his throat cut! An' we gots bad news, no denyin' it."
"'Tain't our fault! How's we to know there'ud be three Elves wit' pe-ku-lu-lar hair."
"Our fault or no, the master's gonna kill us."
After arguing back and forth for awhile, the half-goblins agreed that returning to their master would likely be a fatal move. They disappeared into the Misty Mountains, no doubt hoping to meet up with and join a band of renegade Orcs. What their fate was, no one ever knew.
As for their 'master', deprived of news of the battle, he left standing his order that any Elf with unusual hair was to be brought to him straightaway. However, never again in the Third Age was there to be seen either a bald Elf or one with crimson, purple, or blue hair. So it was that Saruman was thwarted yet again.
What will Elrond and Glorfindel do to Estel once they get him back to Rivendell? And will our three repressed adolescent Elves finally be able to make sense of their budding (exploding is more like it) sexuality? Stay tuned to fanfiction.net for the further adventures of Anomen and his band of merry Elves.