MoroTheWolfGod: I'm hurrying! I'm hurrying!
Kitsune: Actually, this trip they are captured neither by Orcs nor Trolls. Thought I'd try something new. Don't want my audience to get jaded. After all, then I wouldn't get all these encouraging reviews!
Farflung: Yes, it's a good sign that at this point they realize that they really, really need the help of adults. Also, yes, Elrond is going to have something to say about the fact that his sons would ever have thought that he would whip them. And a punishment for evading punishment will be added on top of the punishment already planned. Uh, I think that last sentence makes sense.
Karri: Well, that's what you get for taking a day off! Heh heh heh. ^_^
Dragonfly: So you thought I'd unleash Orcs on them! Glad I was able to work in a surprise. I don't want to become totally predictable.
Elemental Flair: It won't be face paint, exactly. More like body paint.
Kalendral: Thank you. I'm glad to know that the first chapter made you want to read on.
Jebb: It may sound corny, but I'm glad that my stories make people happy. Eeew. I am such a people-geek!
Konzen: Yeah, I'll bet there are some days that Glorfindel would rather face a balrog than Elrond's sons!
The stars had never crawled across the sky as slowly as they did that night for Elrohir and Anomen. Unable to move, lying flat on his back, Anomen could do nothing but gaze up at the twinkling lights that seemed to have been fixed for all eternity. As for Elrohir, the night was if anything longer. True, he had the use of his limbs, but he spent the whole night wearily reproaching himself. "It was my idea to fasten a target on Glorfindel's backside," he thought sadly. "If we hadn't, Anomen would be safe in Rivendell right now." Elrohir may have been optimistic on that last score; Anomen had shown every sign of being able to get into trouble unaided, thank you very much, so there is no guarantee that he would have been safe in Rivendell had Elrohir not set in motion the ill-fated prank. Be that as it may, Elrohir blamed himself, and that made the night pass at a worm's pace.
After awhile, Anomen began to shift about slightly.
"Lie still, Anomen! You may hurt yourself!"
"I know," said Anomen fretfully, "but my foot itches dreadfully."
"Your foot?"
"My left foot. Can't you take off my boot and scratch it for me?"
"I am afraid to, Anomen. What if I jostled your spine trying to pull the boot off?"
"Ooh," moaned Anomen. "This itch will drive me as crazy as a Troll with a toothache!"
"I'm sorry," said Elrohir. "Wait a minute—your foot!?"
"Aye," said Anomen, "my foot—oh!"
"Your foot itches," said Elrohir solemnly.
"My foot itches," echoed Anomen. "And, now I think on it, I don't mind at all!"
The two stared at each other, eyes shining.
It seemed to the two elflings that at long last the stars had resumed their nightly dance across the Pavilion of the Valar.
Elladan, meanwhile, gave no thought to the stars, for his eyes were fixed upon the ground as he tried to run throughout the night without stumbling over obstacles. As dawn neared, he was still running. Abruptly, however, he halted. He had heard, up ahead, the unmistakably sharp crack of a stick breaking. Someone or something was out there, and directly in the path to Rivendell. Would he have to lose time detouring about it, whatever it was? Elladan crept forward to reconnoiter. Carefully keeping to the cover of the bushes, the elfling slipped up to a small clearing. There he saw a Man in the process of building a fire, no doubt to prepare his breakfast. After gathering sticks and breaking them to length, the Man cleared away a small patch of grass down to the bare ground and arranged the sticks upon it. He drew forth some shavings from a pouch that he wore at his waist, and then, with his flint and steel, he kindled the small fragments of wood, blowing gently upon the tiny flame until the larger sticks began to burn.
Elladan watched all this with great wariness. Men did frequent Rivendell—all Folk were welcome there—but by far Elladan was most familiar with Dunlendings, who, it must be admitted, were not the most savory of Men. He had seen Dunlendings on those occasions when he had ridden with his father to the border of Eregion, beyond which lay the land of Dunland. This man was no Dunlending, however. True, he looked scruffy—his clothes worn and travel-stained, his face unshaven—but he carried himself as royally as Lord Celeborn as he moved about the clearing.
The Man arose and crossed to his pack to draw forth a few items of cookware, as well as a bundle that proved to contain the leftovers of an evening's meal. He returned to the fire and bent over it as if he meant to warm his hands. Suddenly he pulled a brand from the fire and strode rapidly across the small clearing until he loomed above the bush behind which Elladan crouched. In one hand he held the torch; in the other a sword.
"Come out into the light where I can see you," called the Man. Elladan decided that it would be wise to obey a Man who apparently had the instincts of an Elf, as well as elf-like grace and speed. He slowly stood, palms upward.
"An elfling." The man sheathed his sword and, turning his back on Elladan, returned to the fire. Once he reached it, he sat down beside it on folded legs.
"I was just about to break my fast. Come, join me."
"Please, sir, I am not hungry."
"What brings you lurking about my fire then?"
"My foster-brother is badly hurt, sir," Elladan said in a rush. "Can you—can you?"—in what way could this human help him?—"Have you got a horse!?"
The Man gestured about the clearing. "Do you see a horse?"
Tears sprang to Elladan's eyes. "No," he whispered. "I had best be getting on; I have a long way to go."
"You are heading toward Rivendell, I wager. It will take you the full turning of a day to reach there even if you do not stop to rest. How far away is your brother?"
"I ran throughout the night," Elladan said simply.
"Let me return with you to your brother. If you go on to Rivendell, it will be at least a day and a half before help would reach him—one full turning of the sun and moon for you to walk to Rivendell, another half one for mounted rescuers to retrace your path."
"He is hurt very badly, sir."
"Then it is all the more important that help reach him quickly. I have some skill as a healer. As you come from Rivendell, you must know its Lord, Elrond Peredhil. He has taught me a thing or two about caring for the ill or injured. You remind me of him somewhat," the Man added thoughtfully.
Elladan decided to say nothing. So far the Man had shown him only kindness, but it was wise to be cautious. He was all the more conscious of this because he now saw how rashly he and his brothers had been behaving over the previous days. Swiftly, at the insistence of the Ranger, they shared the Man's breakfast. Then the Ranger carefully obliterated all signs of the camp, and they set out at a rapid pace. By nightfall they had reached the mountain and were scrambling up toward the spot where Anomen lay. Anomen and Elrohir heard them as they drew near, and Elrohir carefully crept up upon a rock so that he could peer out and see whether help neared—or whether they were at last in danger of discovery by Orc or Troll. To his relief, he saw Elladan climbing toward him; to his consternation, he saw that he was accompanied by a Man instead of the elven rescuers he had expected. Still, Elladan did not seem to be constrained in any way. Elrohir decided to show himself. He stood erect.
"Mae govannen!" he hailed his brother.
"I have brought help," Elladan shouted back.
Strangers were often taken aback upon first catching sight of the twins. The Man, however, was not. He merely gazed upon them and chuckled. "Ah, I see that I am in the presence of the famous sons of the Lord of Imladris. Interesting that you neglected to tell me of that fact," he added, turning to Elladan. "I shall have to tell Elrond that one of his sons is the soul of discretion, saying no more than he must. He will be pleased to hear of it. Which twin should I so praise?"
"I am Elladan."
"And that would make you Elrohir," the Man said, turning now to that twin.
Elrohir looked at Elladan. "Who is he?" he mouthed.
Elladan shook his head. "I do not know," he mouthed back.
The Man meanwhile had bent over Anomen. He saw that the elfling was lying perfectly flat, with nothing to pillow his head.
"You have injured your back." It was a statement, not a question. He placed his palm against Anomen's right sole. "Press your right foot against my hand." He placed his palm against the other sole. "Now the left foot."
"My left foot itches a little. It didn't at first."
"That is good. It itches now?"
"Yes."
"I was afraid to pull his boot off lest I jostle him," said Elrohir.
"Oh, I think we may risk it." The Man gently eased the boot off Anomen's left foot. He drew an arrow from his quiver and gently brushed the feathered end across Anomen's sole. The sole arched and Anomen giggled a little.
"Ah, that is good," said the Man. He removed Anomen's other boot. Not telling Anomen, he reversed the arrow and prodded the foot with the point.
"Ow!"
"Excellent. Now let us get you down from this mountain. We will have to devise some sort of brace to keep your back quite straight." He looked around him. "The trees this high are stunted, but you two scavenge about and find the longest, straightest pieces that you can."
Eagerly the twins scrambled up and down the slope until each had an armful of reasonably suitable limbs. The Man carefully set about strapping them the length of Anomen's body. "Now so stiff you are," he said at last, "that carrying you will be like bearing a table! But I can make shift until we are at the base of the mountain. Then we will find better wood and prepare a proper stretcher."
Carefully, the Man bore Anomen down the mountain, the twins assisting by carrying the Man's pack and weapons. When they reached the base of the mountain, the Man put Anomen gently down.
"Elladan," he said, "you and I will build a stretcher, and when it is ready, we will begin to pace slowly toward Rivendell. Elrohir," he said, turning to the other twin, "Elladan has already journeyed at rapid speed for a full day. It is now your turn. Hasten now to Rivendell, and lead your father toward us."
Elrohir set off at a dead run. At footraces, Elladan had always excelled, but Elrohir was now to prove his mettle at endurance running. For he ran the entire distance, never stopping save to quickly slake his thirst from this creek or that. He covered the distance to Rivendell in half the full turning of the sun and moon. Given the unevenness of the terrain, a horse could have done no better.
When Elrohir reached the gates of Rivendell, he was well nigh staggering. He was thirsty, hungry, and covered in dust, but he waved off the Elves who would have assisted him. "Where is my father!?" he croaked through his cracked lips.
"With Lord Glorfindel at the archery field," came the reply. Elrohir waited to hear no more but once more broke into a run.
"Ada!" he shouted as he sprinted toward the field. "Ada!" He stumbled and fell but pushed himself back onto his feet. "Ada!"