Ky: Yes, Glorfindel's face should be a study of rage and frustration when he finds that Anomen has slipped off. Uh oh, I see that you are threatening me with the "wrath of the reviewers" if I don't post quickly. God hath no furry like a reviewer scorned!
Jebb: Hehehe. Of course there was a limit to how long Anomen could stay put and behave! But we wouldn't have it any other way, would we!?
Farflung: Yes, Anomen is clever—but maybe 'too clever by half' as far as his cleverness getting him into mischief. Say, aren't you glad that I didn't do anything graphic with the chamber pots!?
Lyn: Thank you. Since you said 'Please', here's another chapter! ^_^
Kitsune: Here you go. Not literally a 'sticky situation' this time, but Anomen does find himself 'entangled' in difficulties.
Dragonfly: Thank you for the reference to "Games of the Gods" by Crimson Starlight. I'll plan on reading that.
Karri: Well, technically he didn't disobey anyone this time. I think government officials call this 'deniability'.
Anomen had hurried only a short distance before he spied the wizard up ahead. He slowed down then, not wanting to catch up when still so near to Bree, for Mithrandir would surely send him back if he did.
The entire day he trailed behind the far-away speck that was the Istar. At last, towards dusk, he saw Mithrandir turn off the road into a thicket, no doubt to set up camp. He hastened until he reached the spot where the wizard had disappeared, and then he carefully tracked the Istar to a small clearing. Anomen found a good spot to hide so that he could keep apprised of Mithrandir's movements.
The wizard cast his bedroll upon the ground, and, removing a tiny camp kettle from his pack, he disappeared in search of water. Anomen sat back on his heels to patiently await the Istar's return. Suddenly the elfling was being yanked to his feet by one of his pointed ears.
"Pray tell me," growled a voice by said ear, "why I shouldn't use my staff to knock some sense into your head."
"B-b-because," stammered Anomen, "you may damage it!"
"The head or the staff? The head I doubt would be harmed, but the staff may shatter on that thick skull of yours. Well, well, I had better not risk it."
The wizard released his grip on Anomen's ear. The elfling turned gingerly about and gazed up cautiously. Mithrandir looked as fierce as Anomen had ever seen him.
"As you are here," said the wizard sternly, "take that kettle and fill it with water from that stream over yonder."
Anomen bent down and picked up the kettle that Mithrandir had quietly set down as he crept up behind Anomen.
"And when you have filled the kettle, gather sticks for a fire. I expect you to be serving me a cup of tea before an Elf can sing The Lay of Lúthien."
The Lay of Lúthien is not a very long song," said Anomen timidly.
"THEN YOU'D BETTER HOP TO IT!" roared the wizard.
Anomen hopped, scurried, ran, scuttled, and otherwise hastened to do the Istar's bidding. Before too long Anomen was pouring boiling water into a mug into which he had cast a handful of tea leaves. Bowing respectfully, he offered the mug to Mithrandir, who, puffing on his pipe, was reclining in comfort against a fallen trunk.
"Excellent. Now cut me a piece of bread and a slice of that first-rate cheese. Yes, that will do."
Mithrandir took a few bites and then said, "You may have some bread and cheese yourself. I don't intend to starve you."
"I have bread, cheese, and meat in my pack."
"Ah, good. That shows at least some forethought on your part."
"Mithrandir," said Anomen. "I did have permission."
"Hereabouts you may call me Gandalf—actually, I'm rather fond of that particular name—and, no, you did not have permission."
"Master Farmer knew that I was going after you," argued Anomen, "and I told Master Butterbur that something had to be taken to Shire."
"The Shire. True, Master Farmer knew that you were going after me—let me guess, he had some letters he wanted delivered—but he did not expect you to follow me all the way to the Shire. As for Butterbur, he only let you out of his sight because he thought that Master Farmer had commanded it—and you did nothing to disabuse him of that misconception!"
"I was going to give you the letters," said Anomen defensively.
"Oh, when would that have been—as I stood at the very gates of the Shire?"
Shamefaced, Anomen had to admit that that had indeed been his plan. He drew the letters forth from his pack and handed them to Gandalf. Then he arose.
"I will be returning to Bree now, Gandalf."
"Oh, no, you don't," exclaimed the wizard. "You won't get off that easily! I rather think that I shall enjoy having a skivvy for a few days. The fire is dying down—fetch more sticks. And refill that kettle! Oh, yes, my boots need a good cleaning—the approach to Bree was rather muddy. And I have a rent in my cloak that needs mending. You'll find needle and thread in my pack."
No sooner had Anomen finished one task than Gandalf assigned him another. His cloak needed brushing—yes, and his hat needed brushing as well. His belt buckle needed polishing. He wanted another cup of tea. His pipe needed to be cleaned and refilled—tamp down the tobacco just so. His bedroll had to be shaken and spread out. The fire needed mending.
Anomen closed out the day crouched by the stream washing Gandalf's woolen hose and then hanging them carefully by the fire so that they would be dry by morning. Then he wearily collapsed in a leaf windrow.
"Anomen, have you no bedroll?" asked the wizard.
Anomen admitted that, while he had brought food, he was otherwise unprepared for an evening in a thicket.
"Here," said the wizard. "Take my cloak and wrap yourself in it. 'Twill be cold tonight, for the sky is clear, but between your cloak and mine, you should be warm enough."
Gratefully, Anomen accepted the proffered cloak, and the tired elfling was asleep within minutes. Gandalf sat up a little while longer, amusing himself by sending smoke creatures to dance about Anomen's head.
"That little fellow seems happy to wander anywhere except back to Greenwood," he said to himself. "However are we to turn his feet in that direction?"
The wizard shook his head thoughtfully and turned in for the night.
The next morning Anomen awoke before Gandalf. Immediately he leaped up and rekindled the fire and then went to fill the kettle. When Gandalf woke up, Anomen at once presented him with a hot cup of tea.
"Well, well, how very kind of you, my lad. Hot tea upon waking. 'Tis a luxury I do not often enjoy."
After sharing a companionable breakfast, the two set out again along the Road, but after awhile they turned aside and made for a forest that could be seen in the distance past several barrows.
"Why are we leaving the Road, Gandalf?"
"I have a mind to visit with an old friend before we go on to the Shire. He lives in yonder forest. The Hobbits call it the Old Forest, and it is indeed an ancient place. A bit of a dodgy place, too, at times."
It was early afternoon when they reached the fringes of the Old Forest. A path, which seemed wide and well-traveled, led into the depths of the wood. They did not enter the forest at once, however. At the trailhead, Gandalf stopped and slung his pack to the ground.
"I am weary and wish to rest a little before we travel the remainder of the way to my friend's abode. As this forest is not a good place for napping, I will lay myself down here. You should rest as well."
"I am not tired, Gandalf."
"Very well. But under no circumstances are you to enter the forest whilst I sleep. If anything untoward should happen, wake me."
With that Gandalf tipped his hat over his eyes and fell instantly asleep. Anomen sat looking about, but soon grew bored. He needed something to occupy himself. To while away the time, he picked up a piece of wood and began to whittle it into a bird as a gift for Arwen. Gandalf must have been very tired, for he slept for hours, and Anomen carved for such a long time that he was able to put the finishing touches on his creation, which was modeled on a bluejay. "Once I have painted it," he thought with satisfaction, "it will fool the very jays themselves." He held it up to catch the sun and turned it about to look at it from all angles.
Ai! Anomen spoke too truly, for with a sudden flurry of wings, a jay swooped down and seized the toy from Anomen's hand and flew into the forest.
"You thief," yelled Anomen indignantly. He leaped to his feet and peered into the woods. The jay was perched only a short distance away in a tree next to the path. The bird pecked at the carving a few times and then, losing interest, let it drop to the forest floor and flew off. Anomen glanced at Gandalf. Surely the tired wizard would not want to be awoken over such a matter as this. The toy lay in plain sight only a few steps away and right at the edge of the path. With one last glance at the Istar, Anomen hurried to the toy, retrieved it, and turned about to regain the wizard's side. One would have almost thought that the trees had moved, for Anomen could no longer see Gandalf from where he stood. The elfling was surprised but not fearful. Granted his view of the wizard was blocked by a tree trunk; still, Gandalf was only a few paces away. Anomen took a step toward where he knew the wizard to lie sleeping, rounded a tree trunk—and encountered more tree trunks.
"I have gotten myself turned about," thought Anomen. "I should have stepped that way." He moved off in a new direction. More trees; no wizard. After taking a step in—as he thought—every possible direction, Anomen decided that he had best climb into the canopy so that he could determine where the edge of the forest, and therefore Gandalf, lay. But when he tried to take hold of a branch to swing himself into a tree, the branch slapped his hand away—and none too gently! Anomen roamed from tree to tree, trying to find one that would permit him to climb up, but all rebuffed him. At last Anomen had to admit that he was well and truly lost and had no prospect of finding his way out on his own. He, a wood-elf, would have to stay put where he was—where ever that might be—and wait to be rescued by an irate Istar. At least he could shout and guide the wizard to him. He opened his mouth. "Gand—oomph!" A thick vine had slapped him in the face. Perhaps he wouldn't shout after all. He looked about warily and, tightly clutching the wooden bird in his hand, backed away from the malevolent vine—only to discover that another creeper was winding itself about his ankle. He tried to kick himself free, but the creeper gave a hard yank and pulled him to the ground. Other creepers seized his other ankle and his wrists, and the original vine re-entered the fray, wrapping itself around his mouth. Thoroughly trussed, Anomen could only lie still and hope that Gandalf would find him quickly.
As for that worthy wizard, by now he had awoken and was looking about for Anomen. Almost at once he saw that the path had shifted.
"Ai!" Gandalf groaned, "that elfling has gone into the forest, and the trees are amusing themselves at his expense—and mine, too, for that matter!"
"Of course, he has gone into the forest, you old fool," the wizard replied to himself, "for you told him not to. Whatever did you expect!?" he scolded himself.
"Well," sighed the Istar. "I'd best be on my way. There will be no finding him."
And with that Gandalf shouldered his bag and, holding his staff in one hand and Anomen's pack in the other, he strode off down the path, which, by the way, stayed respectfully in place.
The unfortunate Anomen lay helplessly for hours after Gandalf had departed down the path. The day birds had fallen silent and the night birds had begun to sing before he had any hope of rescue. He heard then the voice of a Man or some such creature singing not so far away—and the sound was growing louder.
"Mmph! Mmph!" He sought to make any noise, no matter how slight. He tried to wriggle about in the leaf litter so that the dry leaves might crackle and rustle. The vine and the creepers tightened their grip, but the Man drew nearer nonetheless.
"That will be enough sport for one day," chortled a voice near Anomen's head. The vine and the creepers loosened their hold and retreated, although the vine gave Anomen a parting whack on his bottom before it crept away altogether.
The elfling sat up and took a deep breath. "Thank you, sir," he said to his rescuer as soon as he had gotten some fresh air into his lungs.
"No thanks be necessary, young prince."
Anomen gaped. The Man laughed, his bright blue eyes dancing in his wrinkled, ruddy face. Teasingly he said, "Ah, Legolas, have you lost your breath again so soon!?"
"If you please, sir," the elfling said nervously, "my name is Anomen."
"Oh, that is no name of yours, isn't it?"
"It is," insisted Anomen.
"Aye, that is what I said."
Confused, Anomen fell silent.
"I have many names myself," continued Anomen's rescuer. "Iarwain Ben-adar the Elves call me, and the Dwarves Forn. The Northern Men name me Orald, and hereabouts I am known as Tom Bombadil."
"What name would you prefer that I call you?" asked Anomen.
"Oh, Tom Bombadil will do—or just Tom."
"Very well," replied Anomen. "And," he added carefully, "as I will be calling you the name that you prefer, you will of course be calling me the name that I prefer—Anomen!"
Tom laughed heartily. "'Tis a true name although no name at all—happens you have more than one true name, is all. Come now. Goldberry has long since put on supper, and I wish to keep her waiting no longer."
"But I must find my friend Gandalf! He'll be wondering where I have gotten myself to."
"Oh, no, I warrant you that the wizard is not in the least concerned about you. No, not one whit!"
Off strolled this singular being, and Anomen, having no wish to remain alone in the dodgy forest, had perforce to follow him, running to keep up, for, although only the word 'strolled' could describe Tom's gait, he moved at a rapid clip, singing all the while. His song was of a droll sort, Hey! Come merry dol! Come derry dol! being a typical refrain.
Come derry dol! Hop along, my hearties!
Never you mind the naughtiness of trees!
Wizards! Elflings! Be you fond of parties?
Hey! Come merry dol! Come derry dol!
Before Anomen knew it he found himself crossing the wide stone threshold of a house filled with light and warmth and cheer. Anomen blinked, and when his eyes had adjusted to the light, he saw Gandalf sitting comfortably before the fire, his feet on the fender, a pipe in his mouth. The wizard took that last object out of his mouth as Tom and Anomen entered the room.
"Ah, so you have found him, Tom. Thank you. Well, Anomen, we've waited supper—although I must say you deserve to go without for disobeying my command that you not go into the forest." The wizard looked sharply at Anomen from underneath his bristling eyebrows.
"I am sorry, Gandalf," Anomen said contritely, "but I swear I intended only to step a few paces down the path."
"Tell me, Anomen," Gandalf said sternly. "Did I say, 'Under no circumstances are you to enter the forest whilst I sleep except for a few paces'?"
"No," admitted Anomen.
"What did I say?"
"Under no circumstances are you to enter the forest whilst I sleep."
"Your memory is commendable even if your obedience is not. I must console myself with that thought, I suppose."
Gandalf arose and, smiling down upon Anomen, he placed a hand upon his shoulder. "Well, well, the incident is at an end now. Let us turn our attention to this excellent repast that awaits us. We must strive to do justice to Goldberry's labors!"
Relieved, Anomen took his place at the table. However greatly Gandalf was provoked, once he had vented his wrath, he was a forgiving wizard. The matter was closed and would not be repeatedly dredged up and thrown in the elfling's face. Elrond was of the same temperament. Ai! If only Glorfindel would take his cue from the wizard and the Lord of Imladris!
After a most excellent dinner of yellow cream and honeycomb, and white bread, and butter, milk, cheese, and green herbs and ripe berries, Gandalf sighed with contentment and relit his pipe.
"So, Anomen," he said genially, "what did induce you to go into the forest after I had told you not to?"
"I had carved a toy for Arwen, and a bird snatched it away. Ai!" Anomen cried suddenly, looking at his empty hands. "I have lost it!"
Tom held out his own hand, palm up and empty. He turned it palm down, then palm up again. There sat the bird—but with plumage that glowed blue and white. Caught between delight and amazement, Anomen stared at Tom Bombadil. Gandalf laughed.
"Tell me, Tom, Goldberry, have you ever seen an elfling with such big eyes?"
"He has big eyes, but an ever bigger heart," replied Tom, handing the toy to the elfling. "There are worse sins than hastening to rescue a gift for a friend."
Gandalf nodded, grave and merry at the same time. "Well, well, there is truth in what you say. Now, Anomen, up with you and help Goldberry with the dishes. Do not forget that you are still a skivvy!"
Gladly Anomen arose and hastened after Goldberry. "I would rather," he thought, "be a skivvy for Gandalf than Prince of Greenwood any day!" And with that the once and future prince eagerly commenced washing dishes.