Karri: Well, as Elrond observed, not all learning takes place in the schoolroom.
Jebb: Yes, Erestor may have his irritating points, but essentially he is a kind character.
Farflung: Actually, I missed a couple of 'number nine' opportunities: baby Frodo and baby Gimli! I've added that to my growing 'to do' list.
Joee: Yes, I think the two are perfect for each other.
Ninyo: No, I'm not offended. Also wasn't offended by the first reviewer-just surprised and curious. ^_^ After reading your review, I have to concede that you make several excellent points. On the continuum from chaffing to teasing to bullying, a reader could easily place the twins toward the bullying end of the scale. However, I don't think they are anywhere near the top of the scale. First, they like to disconcert and embarrass (I think 'humiliate' is too strong a word), but they do not intend to mete out any severe or lasting psychic injury. Second, their actions did cause physical harm in at least two instances, but not intentionally. It is true that they should have thought through their actions, of course, but that failing-lack of forethought-in itself shows that they did not foresee the pain that they would inflict. Third, they only target their peers and superiors-they never go after anyone younger or weaker. For example, Estel is exempt because he is too young and vulnerable. Fourth, the most outrageous pranks were all committed when they were younger. Now they pretty much confine themselves to teasing, something even Gandalf indulges in on occasion (not to mention Elrond and Glorfindel!). Of course, teasing (like most humor-see Jay Leno's monologues!) depends on targeting someone, but generally the teasing in these tales is (I hope!) affectionate and reciprocal. Phew, I'm starting to write an essay, but your review was very interesting, so I can't help it! Anyway, in conclusion (on the subject of the twins, anyway), yes, Elladan and Elrohir have engaged in bullying to some extent and may even do so in the future. I don't think I'm going to change their personalities. I guess you can put down their bullying tendencies as their character flaw, like Erestor's stiffness, and Glorfindel's gruffness. Now about Thranduil: it is absolutely true that he has been an awful father. However, I would be interested to hear from you whether, and if so, why, you think his current behavior toward Tawarmaenas is not sufficiently 'fatherly'. Or was his earlier behavior simply so unforgivable that no matter what he does you cannot warm to his character? Review again soon! ^_^
Konzen and Dark of Stars: Yes, Erestor turns out alright in the end, doesn't he?
Grumpy: Isn't it ironic that it is Erestor, of all Elves, who solves the bath problem!?
Dragonfly: Um, actually, I forgot to mention that the 'Orc storm' won't be in this chapter but the next one. Sorry!
dd9736: Yes, Anomen tongue-tied (or any Elf, for that matter!) is something that probably only occurs once a millennium.
Vocabulary
Laegmagol-'Sharp Sword'
Laegmegil-'Sharp Sword'
Lagormagol-'Swift Sword'
Lagormegil-'Swift Sword'
Maegcrist-'Sharp Sword'
Maeglang-'Sharp Sword'
Megorcrist-'Sharp Sword'
Megorlang-'Sharp Sword'
The forest of Greenwood could be seen in the distance, and both Thranduil and Tawarmaenas smiled with joy. The trip had been pleasant for both of them, but they had also come to appreciate just how much they loved Greenwood and felt at home beneath its trees. Both felt some surprise at this discovery. For different reasons, each had long believed that he would never again be 'at home' anywhere, least of all Greenwood.
A jovial Gilglîr was waiting for them as they rode up to the entrance of the Great Hall.
"Mae govannen, my friends!" he called out as they dismounted. "Mae govannen! I have missed you both."
"And I you," declared Thranduil, clapping a hand upon Gilglîr's shoulder and giving a hearty squeeze.
"And I likewise!" chimed in Tawarmaenas, grinning at the Seneschal. "And I am going to make up for it by bending your ear for hours as I recite all the marvelous things I have seen!"
Gilglîr laughed. "I look forward to having said ear bent."
The three friends went in together, and Tawarmaenas kept his promise, faithfully describing all he and his uncle had seen and done on their journey, leaving out nothing, not even the color of one dwarven hood.
"By the Valar!" Gilglîr finally exclaimed, "Tawarmaenas, you have lost me at last! I cannot tell Bifur from Bofur and Dori from Nori!"
"Nor could we," chuckled Thranduil. "Although I am sure the Dwarves right now are recounting their own bewilderment over the Elves whom they could tell apart no more easily than we could tell them apart. Did you know that in our escort rode Maegcrist and Megorcrist, Maegland and Megorland, Laegmagol and Laegmegil, not to mention Lagormagol and Lagormegil, as well as-."
"Enough!" cried Gilglîr. "You have made your point. But, Thranduil, how liberal-minded of you!" said the Seneschal in pretend astonishment. "To see matters from the point of view of others-and of Dwarves, no less!"
Thranduil smiled.
"Truly, Gilglîr, this journey was intended to open Tawarmaenas' eyes to the peoples and customs of Middle Earth, but it is certain I have learned no less than he. I look forward to the next stage of our journey-although I would like to spend a few weeks enjoying this realm before we resume our travels."
"I would like that as well," said Tawarmaenas eagerly. In the weeks before their departure, and with the encouragement of his uncle, he had begun to make friends among the younger Elves, and he wanted a chance to recount his adventures to these new companions, as well as to learn how they had spent their time in his absence.
"No doubt that would be wise," agreed Gilglîr. "Indeed, there are several matters that have been held in abeyance until your return, Thranduil, and it would be good if you disposed of them before you rode on to Lothlórien."
"Putting me back to work at once," grumbled Thranduil with mock exasperation. "Ah, well, as Men are wont to say, 'Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown'."
"I think you may be taking that out of context," said Gilglîr, "but never mind." The Seneschal arose. "I should allow you the opportunity to unpack and refresh yourself before I make demands upon you."
"How very kind of you," teased Thranduil, "to set aside time for me to rest. You govern me well. Indeed, every king should have such a ruler!"
For the next fortnight, Thranduil busied himself with attending to the needs of his kingdom, and he did so not only from a sense of duty but also out of a newly reawakened love and concern for his subjects. As for Tawarmaenas, some mornings Thranduil encouraged the young Elf to accompany him to the presence chamber so that he could see how his uncle adjudicated disputes, but even so, Thranduil made sure that his nephew had the afternoons to spend as he liked. Tawarmaenas quickly rejoined his friends and spent many hours in their company, shooting, wrestling, and both climbing and running through the trees.
At the end of the fortnight, as planned, Thranduil, Tawarmaenas, and their escort set out for Lothlórien, this time accompanied by Gilglîr as well. Tawarmaenas thought that there could never have been a more genial company than theirs. The warriors who were escorting them were carefree and sang as they rode, for they were on the plain and would have seen any foes from afar. Tawarmaenas found himself joining in, and then, to his astonishment, he heard the voice of his uncle rising above the others. He had never heard his uncle sing. His uncle had, he decided, a very fine voice!
After sundown, however, the Elves became much more vigilant. There was no moon, and clouds obscured the stars. Gilglîr was careful to post sentries that night.
"Laegmagol and Lagormagol," the Seneschal called, "you take the first watch. Laegmegil and Lagormegil, you take the second. No! No!" he protested as Laegmegil and Lagormegil jumped to their feet, "I said that Laegmagol and Lagormagol should take the first watch, not Laegmegil and-oh, never mind! Two of you take the first watch; the other two take the second!"
Thranduil and Tawarmaenas shook with silent laughter.
"I thought only Dwarves believe that 'all Elves look alike'!" twitted Tawarmaenas as Gilglîr rolled himself up in his blanket.
Grumbled Gilglîr in reply, "Mayhap the King should decree that certain names be retired-as well as any names that resemble them!"
"I will think on it," said Thranduil with mock solemnity. "You see, Tawarmaenas, how a King must attend to every detail, even down to the naming of his subjects!"
Tawarmaenas smiled, partly he enjoyed the light-hearted banter between King and Seneschal, partly because he was glad that he was not going to be the one who had to be concerned with the actual details of ruling a kingdom. With that happy thought, he fell asleep.
Later that night, Tawarmaenas awoke to a whispered conversation between Gilglîr and one of the sentries.
"My Lord, a great bear, larger than any I have ever seen, is circling the encampment."
"What does he do as he circles?"
"From time to time he arises upon his hind legs, and as he does so, he looks outward, away from the camp."
"Ah, is that so?"
"Shall I shoot?" asked the sentry.
"Do nothing," said Gilglîr placidly. "Indeed, you and your fellow guard may stand down. It will no longer be necessary for anyone to keep watch."
The sentry stared at the Seneschal. "But my Lord, the bear!"
"Exactly. The bear. We are safer now than if the entire lot of us were assigned to guard duty. Take this opportunity to rest. Later, when we cross the Misty Mountains, you may be glad that you hoarded your strength when you had the opportunity."
The guard was perplexed, but he trusted Gilglîr and so did as he was ordered. The entire night, the bear circled the camp, and no foe molested them. In the morning, Gilglîr suggested that, before proceeding any further, they pay their respects to Beorn, who lived thereabouts.
"You think that would be wise?" asked Thranduil. "I have heard that the Beornings are jealous of their domain and do not encourage visitors."
"Not only do I think it wise, I think it imperative," replied Gilglîr.
Tawarmaenas wondered why Gilglîr thought it necessary that they visit someone if his uncle was leery of doing so. Perhaps Gilglîr would explain later. If not, he would have to wheedle the information out of the Seneschal sometime.
The elven company rode on as Gilglîr directed. By and by, they could hear a humming noise. It grew louder and louder, and at last they found themselves in the midst of what could only be described as an enormous pasture of the most curious sort. For they saw no horses or cows or sheep grazing in this immense field; instead, it was filled with energetic-and very large!-bees that flitted busily between patches of clover of every description-cockscomb clover and purple clover and white honey-smelling clover.
Thranduil was now as curious as his nephew.
"These must be what Mithrandir has described as 'bee-pastures'."
"Bee-pastures?"
"Yes, Tawarmaenas. Beorn and his kin live largely upon honey and cream. They pasture bees the way others pasture kine."
After riding yet further, they saw a stand of tall oak trees.
"Beyond yonder trees," said Gilglîr, "there should be a high thorn-hedge. A wooden gate will permit us to pass through this otherwise impenetrable barrier, and we will then see many gardens and wooden buildings of every description-barns, stables, sheds, one very large house, and of course hives, the dwellings of the bees. These structures may seem rustic, for many are thatched and constructed out of unshaped logs. But do not be deceived by their simplicity! Mithrandir has told us that Beorn is the wisest and cleverest of shape-changers. He would be a formidable foe should we offend him."
"Shape-changer?"
Gilglîr smiled at Tawarmaenas.
"You may soon see, Tawarmaenas, a marvel equal to any that you have hitherto witnessed. And mark well his servants. They are no less marvelous than their master!"
As they passed through the gate, Tawarmaenas began to look about eagerly for either the master or his servants, but all he saw were horses-although it must be said that these horses looked remarkably intelligent, even wiser, he was forced to admit, than their elven horses. These latter steeds, though, whinnied with joy and stretched their necks toward Beorn's horses, and Tawarmaenas was certain that they were greeting each other as kin, however distant.
Although Tawarmaenas saw many horses, he saw no Men.
"Where are his servants?" he asked Gilglîr in bewilderment.
"Observe carefully," was his reply.
A horse trotted up to Thranduil's steed, and for all the world this intelligent horse looked as if he were looking over both horse and rider. After examining them for several minutes, he whinnied, tossed his head, and galloped toward the long wooden house.
"We should now await the master," said Gilglîr, dismounting. It dawned upon Tawarmaenas that the horses were the servants, and that one of them had just gone to summon Beorn. Truly Gilglîr was right. The servants were indeed marvelous, and how much more so would be the master!
That master was not long in coming. From the house issued forth an extraordinarily tall Man.
"Why, he is as tall as a Troll!" exclaimed Tawarmaenas, a little fearful.
"Yet he is no Troll," said Gilglîr. "Indeed it would not be wise for any Troll to come within miles of this place. Nor do Orcs or Wargs venture near, not unless they are desirous of being parted from their skins!"
By now all the company had dismounted, and they waited respectfully as the tall Man drew near.
"Well," he growled, "so you have come at last. I had hoped you would accept my invitation."
Invitation? thought Tawarmaenas. When had they received any such invitation? Tawarmaenas could recall the arrival of no messenger.
Thranduil addressed the Man respectfully.
"We were honored to receive your summons, Master Beorn, for we know that you do not lightly ask strangers into your domain."
"Not altogether strangers, King Thranduil. We are neighbors, after all, and we have long provided your realm with honey and cream."
"True," replied Thranduil politely. "And my people have not forgotten the aid you afforded us in the Battle of the Five Armies."
"And it is aid that I would provide once again. From their redoubts in the Misty Mountains, the Orcs have increasingly been mounting forays against travelers. Your company is well-armed and well-mounted, but if they take you unawares, things may go ill for you. With your leave, I had thought to send some of my servants with you as scouts. Elves can speak to many birds and beasts, but my servants can converse with many more."
Thranduil inclined his head.
"You are most kind, Master Beorn, and I gladly accept your offer. Such scouts would be invaluable."
"Good, good. And now set loose your horses amongst mine-they will be well cared for!-and come into my house. For this night you must dine and dwell with me."
"With joy and gratitude we will do so," replied Thranduil. "Your board is renowned, and justly so, judging from the honey and cream that have been sent to our larders over the years."
"And to good effect," laughed Beorn, "for surely you Elves of Greenwood have honeyed tongues!"
All laughed, and in short order the Elves found themselves seated on benches at a low tables set upon trestles and being served, to Tawarmaenas delight, by ponies and sheep and long-bodied gray dogs. They feasted upon bread and sweet butter and honey and clotted cream-simple fair but fresh and filling. For drink there was mead altogether as satisfying as the best Dorwinion wine, and the Elves drank as deeply as Dwarves.
Once they had finished the meal, Beorn's servants set out straw mattresses and woolen blankets for the guests. Tawarmaenas, however, was a long way from being tired. He was fascinated by Beorn's equine companions and servants.
"May I go outside to look upon the horses?" he asked his host.
"Yes, but do not stray far-and be sure to be back within these walls before sundown."
Tawarmaenas agreed and eagerly hastened outside. Several of Beorn's horses trotted up to him and gazed intently into the face of the young Elf. Tawarmaenas was sure that the horses knew what he was thinking, and he felt as if he could almost read their minds as well. Not too surprisingly, so great was his fascination that he overstayed his time, and Beorn came to fetch him as the sun began to slip below the horizon.
"You are a young Elf to be in the company of all those warriors," said Beorn to Tawarmaenas as they walked back to the house.
"No," rejoined Tawarmaenas cheerfully, "I would have to be a much older Elf not to be in the company of all those warriors!"
Beorn smiled at his wit. "True, true. Young as you are, it is good that you are in the company of these valiant Elves. Not like that young Elf who once wandered alone through our lands-indeed, I believe my father said that the sojourner was not but an elfling-and pursued by wolves, the young one was!"
Tawarmaenas was of course eager to hear more.
"This elfling, what did he look like?"
"It was dark when my father gazed upon him, but the elfling did have light hair, that much my father could tell."
"Light hair! And his eyes?"
Beorn shook his head.
"My father said naught of his eyes-only that he was young, with light-hair, and came from the direction of Greenwood, a pack of fell wolves upon his heels! An excellent runner he was, to stay in front of the pack for so long."
"Whatever became of him?"
"He passed through our lands in safety-my father made sure of that-but what became of him after, my father never knew. He suspected that the young one was making for Lothlórien, but he could not be sure."
"But you do not know of any harm befalling him."
"Not in our domain. My father would not permit it."
"Oh, I am glad," cried Tawarmaenas fervently.
Beorn looked at him curiously.
"This story seems to matter greatly to you."
"Yes, but, your pardon, Master Beorn, I would rather not say why."
Beorn inclined his head gravely.
"Ah, you are one who is able to keep his own counsel; mayhap you are not so young after all, at least not in wisdom!"
"I thank you."
"You are also the master of courtesy. Come again to my lands, and come often!"
"If circumstances permit it, you may be sure that I will."
With that, they arrived at the house. Tawarmaenas went inside, but Beorn did not accompany him.
"No, you go in, young Master Elf. I have some errands need doing. Sleep well."
Tawarmaenas did sleep well, dreaming of bears, creatures that were not at all fearsome but came proffering gifts of honey and cream. At one point he awoke to a snuffling and scuffling noise that came from the outside, and he wondered whether his dream had come true-or had turned into a nightmare. He sat up.
"Go back to sleep," said Gilglîr softly.
"But I am certain that I heard a bear just now. Shouldn't Beorn be told that one lurks outside? It may do his servants an injury!"
"Oh, I am sure that Beorn knows about the bear," Gilglîr replied calmly. "You don't see that great ursine fellow anywhere within this house, do you?"
Great ursine fellow? The truth dawned upon Tawarmaenas. Shape-changer. Of course! Beorn was a shape-changer, a mighty Man by day, an equally mighty bear by night. Truly, Gilglîr was right! Today Tawarmaenas had seen a marvel equal to any that he had hitherto witnessed!