Websterans: Thank you. Unfortunately, sometimes I write too fast and make mistakes. Fortunately, I have readers who alert me when that happens!
Ky: Yep, the people in Bree are not the most imaginative, but since moi, the author, is pulling the strings, I guess I'm the one ultimately responsible. (Blushes at having too obviously recycled a name.)
MoroTheWoldGod: I had a lot of fun with Hugo Weaving/Agent Smith. I'm glad you enjoyed him as well.
Daw: Yes, Glorfindel does seem to take delight in teasing/tormenting Anomen.
Reviewer (no name listed): Yes, Glorfindel is going to get his comeuppance in this story. He does indeed have something to learn.
dd9736: Glorfindel is indeed "on his toes," but even an elf-lord can trip and stumble.
Dragonfly: Yes, if Elladan and Elrohir knew what was going on, they would probably be giving huge sighs of relief right now at having escaped this assignment. Glorfindel is very good at teasing/tormenting Anomen. I'll bet Glorfindel was a holy terror when he was an elfling. I really have to do something with his character. He deserves his own series. But I'd better keep on with Anomen for awhile because I think if I try to stop some of you guys may come after me with incendiary devices! I'm in way too deep now!
Anomen stood gloomily in the stable door watching as Glorfindel and Aragorn rode away from the inn, Aragorn mounted on Anomen's own horse—insult added to injury!
"Come, lad," Bartholomew Butterbur said kindly. "I'll show you to my chamber, where you will be staying until Master Gold returns."
Anomen had an inspiration. "If it would not offend you, may I not sleep in the hayloft instead? 'Twould make it easier for me to look after the packhorse that remains—and I could help out about the stable as well."
"Are you sure you would be quite comfortable?" said Butterbur doubtfully.
"Oh, yes, Master Butterbur. I shall mound up some hay and spread my blankets over it. I have slept that way many a night."
"Very well, then. But you must let me give you a few extra blankets. I promised Master Gold that you could sleep on a pallet in my chamber, and I would not like him to think that you were not well housed."
"Thank you, Master Butterbur. I should be glad of the extra blankets."
"It's settled then. You may sleep in the hayloft, and in the morning, when you arise, you may help the stable master feed and water the horses. Then come inside and break your own fast. Afterward, I have no doubt that I will be able to find enough tasks to permit you to earn the rest of your keep."
This arrangement proved to be a very agreeable one for Anomen. By the time the horses had been fed and watered each morning, another servant had already emptied the chamber pots of their nightly deposits. You may be sure that scouring, toting, hauling, and sweeping were much more to Anomen's liking!
After a week had passed in this fashion, one evening Master Butterbur called on Anomen to build a fire in one of the rooms.
"Leif, hasten up to room number nine and lay a fire at once. A gentleman has arrived who wishes to shortly retire to his chamber."
"Yes, Master Butterbur." Anomen hurried to the room and arranged the fuel expertly. As he was blowing on the glowing kindling, a Man entered the room. Anomen did not look up.
"Your pardon, Master. I will have this fire well established in a moment or two."
The Man said nothing but stood behind the kneeling elfling. Once Anomen was certain that the wood had well and truly caught and would burn without smoking, he arose and turned about.
"Mithrandir!"
In his astonishment, Anomen would have fallen backwards over the fireplace fender if the Istar had not reached out a hand and stayed him.
"In this place I am known as Gandalf," said the wizard calmly.
Anomen sighed. "Everyone hereabouts goes by a different name."
Said Mithrandir dryly, "You are hardly the one to complain about that! Pray, how do you style yourself at the moment?"
Anomen flushed. "Leif Anomenson."
"Ah, well, the 'Leif' is a step in the right direction."
Anomen squirmed uncomfortably under Mithrandir's sharp gaze.
"Why are you here, Mith-Gandalf?"
"I am often in Bree. Why are you here."
"Glorfindel brought me here on a scouting mission. He wished to masquerade as a trader, and he believed that if he were accompanied by a young apprentice he would be less likely to be doubted."
"But how did you metamorphose from a trader's apprentice to an innkeeper's skivvy?"
"Glorfindel has gone off with a Man named Longshanks to see whether there are Southrons hiding on Weathertop. He left me with Butterbur because he fears that they will have to fight the Southrons."
"Ah, he has joined forces with Aragorn. Good."
"You knew that Aragorn is called Longshanks?"
"Yes—hereabouts. But you are forgetting yourself, Leif."
"I am?"
"Yes," teased Mithrandir. "Shouldn't you be asking me if I am hungry or thirsty?"
Anomen grinned. "Master Gandalf, sir, would you like aught to eat or to drink? We have hotmeatpieshotfruitpiescoldmuttoncoldhambreadcheese'n'clottedcream." He took a breath. "And we have beerwine'n'ale. Oh, yes, we have milk, if you would prefer that. Sir," he added.
Gandalf laughed. "See if you can convince the cook to mull some of that wine. Other than that, cold meat, bread, and cheese will suffice. Oh, and see if you can prevail upon Butterbur to spare me a link of Southfarthing tobacco. I haven't had a smoke in three days. And be quick about it, lad!" he added with a wink.
In short order Anomen had returned with the requested items.
"Gandalf, may I visit with you a bit after I have finished my chores?"
"I would be glad of your company," said the wizard gravely.
"Thank you, Gandalf. I must scour some pots now. Farewell."
Mithrandir laughed softly after Anomen had hurried from the room. Truly, the elfling was as amusing and dear to him as any Hobbit.
Late that evening Anomen returned to the wizard's chamber. To the elfling's delight, Mithrandir had asked that a fruit pie be sent up, along with two more goblets of mulled wine. Anomen had been given plenty to eat, but the fruit pies were usually devoured by the customers before it came time for the servants to take their meals in the kitchen. And Butterbur had become convinced that milk was the only beverage that Anomen was to be permitted.
Anomen sat eating his pie and peppering Mithrandir with questions about Rivendell, for the wizard had told him that he had lately come from that place.
"Arwen has been moping about, wailing that Elladan and Elrohir never pay attention to her as you do. Elladan and Elrohir have been moping about, complaining that with you gone Erestor requires more of them because the time they spend at lessons is divided betwixt two pupils instead of three. Erestor is moping about, moaning that with you gone, there are fewer targets for the twins' pranks—and he is one of them."
"And Elrond?" asked Anomen eagerly.
"Oh, Elrond never mopes—but I must say that late at night I sometimes hear the howling of a wolf near his chamber—but no tracks are ever found in the morning!"
Anomen laughed at the picture of a perturbed elf-lord pacing and baying at the moon.
"Are you returning to Rivendell, Gandalf?"
"In due time. For now I am on my way to the Shire."
"The Shire—the land of the Periannath?" said Anomen eagerly.
"Aye. The very land."
"Take me with you, Gandalf!"
"Tell me, Leif, did Glorfindel say to you, 'Stay at the inn until a wandering wizard happens by and then go off with him'?"
"No, Gandalf, but—"
"He said to you, 'Stay at the inn, earning your keep, until I return and we resume our journey—is that not so?"
"Yes, Gandalf, but—"
"So the answer is, of course, no, you may not accompany me to the Shire—and be sure that I shall exchange your hands with your feet if you should venture to disobey Glorfindel and follow me!"
"Why cannot I ever be given a command that I wish to obey?" asked Anomen mournfully.
"Because," said Mithrandir tartly, "then it would not be a command, would it? Now be off with you. I need to rest because I depart in the morning; you need to sleep because you must be up early to attend to your chores."
The next morning Anomen again found himself standing gloomily in a doorway as a friend departed. Staff in hand, bag over his shoulder, the wizard strode down the street, stopped to wave at the street's end, turned the corner, and was gone. Sighing, Anomen went into the inn. Early though it was, the proprietor was bustling about.
"Master Farmer," called a Hobbit. "Have you anyone going to the Shire this day? I've some letters need to be carried to kin in the Southfarthing."
"There's Gandalf going," answered the innkeeper, accepting the letters. "No doubt he'd be willing to carry them for you."
"Excuse me, Master Farmer," said Anomen. "Master Gandalf has just now left."
The innkeeper clapped his hand to his head and groaned. "And I have a letter needs delivering as well."
"Master Farmer," said Anomen eagerly. "He hasn't been gone very long. I would be glad to hasten after him with the letters."
"Would you? That's a good lad. Here be the letters."
"I'll just run back and tell Master Butterbur of my errand so that he will not wonder at my absence.'
"True, true. He's the one keeps track of ye, in't he?"
"Aye, Master Farmer."
Anomen ran into the kitchen, where he knew Butterbur was tallying some barrels of beer that had just arrived.
"Master Butterbur," he called, waving the letters frantically, "I've an errand to run for Master Farmer. These letters need to be delivered to the Shire."
"The Shire? You'll be gone for a week then. Take that satchel there and be sure to fill it sufficient to take you there and back again."
"Thank you, Master Butterbur. I will."
Anomen hastily stuffed the satchel with bread, meat, and cheese, as well as the letters, of course, for he did mean to see that they were delivered. Thus provisioned, out the door he ran. For once, the elfling thought gleefully, he did not need to climb down a trellis!