Folks, remember to keep an eye on the genealogy of characters so you don't confuse one character with another.
Kitsune: Yes, Glorfindel does delight in bedeviling Anomen, but he really does care for him and would be devastated if anything happened to him. Just imagine that Glorfindel has an inner elfling that manifests itself in tormenting Anomen. Yeah, that's it. Glorfindel has never really grown up. Hmm. I've got to have a tale set in the present (so to speak) in which Glorfindel plays a trick on Elrond.
Jebb: Humiliation, eh? You ain't seen nothin' yet! But the humiliation will indeed soon be replaced by adventure.
Farflung: Yes, I had way too much fun writing the previous chapter. About Bræd the dour Reeve—he equals Brad Dourif, the actor who plays Gríma Wormtongue. I guess that was a bit of a stretch. Yes, once Glorfindel is out of the picture, Anomen is bound to get into trouble. (Of course, even with Glorfindel in the picture, Anomen would get into trouble, wouldn't he?) About killing a Man: that takes place in "Novices No Longer," which is set later. Ky is right. I really need to use my profile as a place to list the entire sequence.
Dragonfly: I'm looking forward to seeing the Calcium Kid, in which Orlando Bloom plays a milkman who boxes. Are you familiar with the milk ads that show celebrities with milk mustaches? Maybe I should write to the Milk Board and suggest that they shoot one with Legolas or Orlando Bloom. Sales of milk would go through the roof. About Glorfindel: I wouldn't worry about him. You'll find out why in this chapter.
Karri: Oh, goody. You got Hugo Weaving/Smith, the multiplying agent of evil!
The next morning Glorfindel arose early to go downstairs to see about breakfast. "You stay here until I return," he ordered Anomen.
"As you wish, Master Gold. I'll just tidy up a bit."
"Aye, tidy up the room—but don't wash your face!" Glorfindel turned away to hide his grin.
When Glorfindel arrived in the common room, he saw at once that several new guests must have arrived after he and Anomen had retired the previous night. One of them in particular caught Glorfindel's eye—a long-legged, scruffy sort, hair tangled, boots muddy, cloak stained. He sat in a corner by himself, smoking a long pipe.
Glorfindel beckoned to Bartholomew Butterbur, who as usual, beamed at him.
"Good morning to ye, Master Gold. And what may I do for you?"
"The boy and I will break fast in our chamber this morning, so I would be obliged if you'd send up some food and drink."
"Aye, that I will. Milk again for the lad?"
"Aye, milk." Glorfindel smiled and wondered how long it would take Anomen to warm up to the taste of beer.
"Anything else, Master Gold?"
"One more thing—but I hesitate to ask it."
"Oh, pray do, Master Gold," replied the ebullient hosteller. "I pride myself on giving satisfaction, I do!"
"Very well. I have a mind to try my hand at trading amongst some of the more renote villages, but I hesitate to bring the boy on such a venture. If my overtures are not favorably met, I may have to beat a hasty retreat, and the boy may hinder me."
"Ah," said Master Butterbur wisely. "You wish to board him."
"That I do. But I also wish to keep him out of trouble. You know what is said of idle hands?"
"Oh, I do! I do! 'Idle hands are the Dark Lord's instrument'."
"Indeed. He is a useful sort of a boy, and I had hoped you could keep him busy. He can fetch wood, make and mend fires, sweep, haul water, scour pans—any number of chores he could do. Oh, yes, and empty chamber pots. He's very good at emptying chamber pots. Positively thrives on it, really."
"Well, Master Gold, it sounds to me as if the boy could work off both his room and his board, no charge to you. But I fear I cannot let him stay alone in that chamber. I'll have to let it out again."
"Oh, a corner in the kitchen will do. He's used to sleeping rough.
"Nay, I can provide better than that for the lad. I'll put down a pallet in my own room."
Glorfindel was delighted. This meant that Anomen would always be under the eye of Master Butterbur. No absconding this time!
"You are most kind, Master Butterbur. I am greatly in your debt."
"Not at all! Not at all! Ah, but there is one thing, Master Gold."
"Yes?"
"It embarrasses me to mention this, but, ah, we pride ourselves on running a first-class ee-sta-blish-ment! Uh, your lad, well, he's a trifle grubbier than we like to see in a servant. Do you suppose you could have him wash his face?"
"Ah, yes," said Glorfidel gravely. "He's your typical boy—hates to bathe."
Butterbur nodded sympathetically.
"But I will instruct him to wash his face and henceforth to bathe regularly."
"Thankee, Master Gold. Thankee."
"I now have one last favor to ask of you."
Butterbur looked at him expectantly.
"I shall need a guide to lead me through the parts into which I intend to travel. That gentleman over there," Glorfindel continued, gesturing at the scruffy Man smoking alone in the corner, "would you be so kind as to show him up to our room. Tell him that there is a breakfast in it for him."
Butterbur stared dubiously at the 'gentleman' to whom Glorfindel had gestured.
"That fellow!?"
"Aye," said Glorfindel calmly. "Know you aught of him?"
"Goes by the name of Longshanks—a rough sort by all accounts. A man of the north. Spends his days roaming the wild lands."
"Exactly," said Glorfindel. "He is just the sort of Man who would be acquainted with the regions into which I plan to travel."
"We-ell," said Butterbur, "you know your own business, I suppose, and I'll do as you wish. But now I am quite glad that the lad will remain here with me!"
Reluctantly—and slowly for once!—Butterbur approached the Man. Bending down, the hosteller spoke into the Man's ear. The stranger looked over toward Glorfindel and nodded.
Glorfindel arose and mounted the steps to their chamber. As he opened the door, he saw Anomen standing by the window.
"Here, you, get away from that window!" Glorfindel hated to see Anomen anywhere near a window, even one on the second floor with no trellis at hand.
"Breakfast will be up shortly. When it does, you shall have to eat standing."
"Why? There are two chairs."
"And both of them will be occupied."
"Is Master Butterbur joining us?"
"No."
Anomen waited for Glorfindel to say more. When he did not, the elfling sighed. Glorfindel had been jovial last night as they ate in the common room, but he had returned to himself this morning.
Butterbur knocked on the door and entered bearing a laden tray. In the midst of the food sat three plates and three mugs, one of which, Anomen noticed, contained milk.
"Your guest will be up directly, Master Gold. Will there be anything else?"
"No, thank you, Master Butterbur. I'll send the boy down if anything becomes needful."
"Very well, sir."
Almost immediately another knock was heard. Glorfindel crossed the room and opened the door to admit the Man. Anomen cried out in surprise.
"Aragorn son of Aravir!"
It was indeed the Ranger who had helped Anomen when he had been injured so badly by his fall in the Misty Mountains.
"He goes by the name of Longshanks in these parts, Leif, so do not again utter that name outside this room until we are safely back in Rivendell."
"Yes, Master Gold."
"Now lay the table."
Quickly Anomen set the table for two and then perched on the edge of his bed, balancing his plate on his knees, to eat his own breakfast. He listened eagerly as the elf-lord and the Ranger discussed the Southron incursion.
"Weathertop, you say? Rangers frequent that hill, Glorfindel. Mayhap one was there that day."
"Do you think that likely?" said Glorfindel.
"No," admitted Aragorn. "A Ranger would not be so foolish as to allow a plume of smoke to drift above his camp."
"Then we must go to Weathertop."
"Aye, but not by the Road. I will lead you by hidden ways so that we may come upon the hill unseen. There are three Southrons at least, but by Butterbur's account, there may be many more. We must take them by surprise. For all we know, we may be two against a score or more."
"Three!" interrupted Anomen indignantly.
Glorfindel frowned at him. "You are not going."
"Why may I not accompany you, Glorfindel?" protested Anomen.
"When we find the Southrons, I am not sure what will happen, but it is probable that a skirmish will ensue. I promised Elrond that I would not lead you into battle, and I mean to keep my promise."
"But where am I to stay!? What am I to do!?"
"You will stay at the inn, although not in this room. I have asked Butterbur to take you under his wing until I have returned. You will have to work for your keep, but it is nothing you cannot do. Sweeping, scouring, toting wood, hauling water, making and mending fires. Oh, yes, and emptying chamber pots."
It was all Anomen could do to keep from grinding his teeth.
"One more thing, Leif."
Anomen groaned. Now what!?
"Master Butterbur says that you are much too dirty. Wash you face."
Anomen was caught between rage and relief.
"Oh, and Anomen."
"Yes, Master Gold?"
"Do not even think of running off to follow after us. If you do not obey, I shall ask Mithrandir to exchange your hands for your feet!"