Angeline: Thank you for your response to Chapter 15. I don't think I ever got back to you on that. Hope you like today's update.
Farflung: As for Anomen's 'composure', I think he acquired it from both Thranduil and Elrond—but one of these two role models uses 'composure' badly while the other makes good use of it. As for Anomen forgiving Elrohir, I cannot claim to have "cunningly planned this all along." This is another good example of how the story seems to write itself. Once an element comes into being, a way to use it suggests itself to me in such a way as it seems to have been inevitable all along.
Dragonfly: Eventually he will be able to 'process' the knowledge and act upon it in a positive way.
Jebb: Ah, you noticed the film script. ^_^ (Writer cavorts and sings with pleasure.)
Melissa: Yes, even though in years Anomen is over a thousand years old, developmentally, he is like a late-teenager or young adult. Humans are still maturing into their mid-twenties; Elves are still maturing as they reach the end of their first millennium and begin their next (at least in my version of Middle Earth).
Joee: Sooooo, Joee, did you ever finish that paper on Canada during the Depression? He he he! I don't have a paper! I don't have a paper! (Writer cavorts and sings with pleasure yet a little more.)
Karri: Yes, we are reaching the point at which the sorrow is going to be inextricably mixed with the joy. *~*
Kitsune: Well, as you already know, I did write the story about how the wine ended up in Galadriel's Mirror. I now realize that I'll have to go back and slightly emend the Dol Guldur story because, if I remember correctly, in that story the twins are just meeting Haldir and his brothers.
During the fortnight that Anomen lay hidden in Gandalf's chamber, Gilglîr was doing his best to unravel the mystery surrounding 'Durrandîr' in order to determine whether that young Elf was Legolas in disguise. To his consternation, however, he found that, whether intentionally or by design, his efforts, no matter how clever, were continually thwarted.
His first opportunity arose as he and Glorfindel sat together in the Hall of Fire one evening. Glorfindel was relaxed, rolling a goblet of wine between his hands, his legs stretched out toward the warmth of the dancing flames.
"Some strange rumors have been circulating about you, Lord Glorfindel, Gilglîr began."
"And all true, too," deadpanned Glorfindel .
"Oh, I doubt that. Did you know some actually claim that you have a son?"
"Indeed? I am flattered."
"But you have no spouse."
"Why, Seneschal, I am astonished at you. Strictly speaking, a spouse is not necessary. Allow me to explain the mechanics of the process to you."
"Lord Glorfindel," Gilglîr answered politely, albeit with an effort, "I assure you that I am quite familiar with the mechanics of the process. So it is true, then, that you have a son?"
"There is one whom I would acknowledge as my son," said Glorfindel carefully. "Indeed, there was a time when I did so."
"And now?"
"If I were called upon to do so, I would."
"Does he have golden-hair?"
"I believe any son of mine would be likely to have hair that is golden or at the very least light in color."
"Where is this Elf?"
"I do not know."
Glorfindel was of course speaking as truthfully as Galadriel had before him.
"What is his name?"
"At the moment?"
Glorfindel shrugged noncommittally.
"Did he ever go by the name Durrandîr?"
"I do not call him that."
Which was true—at that particular point in time.
"What do you call him then?"
"I named him Leif."
Quite true. Glorfindel had given Anomen the name 'Leif Anomenson' when they had journeyed together to Bree.
Gilglîr was beginning to see that he would be little more successful at prying information from Glorfindel than he had been at prying it from Galadriel. At least, though, Glorfindel had in part acknowledged the existence of a mysterious young Elf, one whose parentage had never been formally acknowledged. But the balrog-slayer had not revealed the location of this Elf. Worse, Gilglîr now had another name to mull over: Leif. The name 'Leif' strongly caught Gilglîr's attention. Coincidence? Or an echo of the element 'leaf' in Legolas? Gilglîr sighed. Whatever it was, he would never learn the truth from Glorfindel. After talking politely a little while longer with the balrog-slayer, Gilglîr excused himself and retired for the night. "Tomorrow," he said to himself grimly, I am going to confront Elrond and force the truth out of him."
The next morning Gilglîr was on his way to speak with the Lord of Imladris when he spied Estel romping in the garden with his dog Gwaurant. He paused as an idea struck him. Surely, Gilglîr thought, it could not be too difficult to pry information out of a Man, especially one who was only a boy. He strolled into the garden. Smiling at Estel, he bent down to scratch between the dog's ears, guessing that doing so would endear him to the boy. In this he was correct. While most Elves warmed up to Gwaurant more quickly than Erestor had, in general the Fair Folk were much fonder of their horses than of Estel's dog. Estel rewarded Gilglîr with a friendly grin and his confidence. When Gilglîr sat down upon a stone bench, Estel came to sit beside him, swinging his legs and chattering merrily. Gilglîr asked him many questions. To most of his queries, he already knew the answers, but he wanted to encourage Estel to talk as freely as possible. At last Gilglîr turned the conversation to the boy's foster family.
"Tell me about your brothers," Gilglîr coaxed Estel.
"I have three—ElladanElrohir'n'Anomen."
"Anomen?" This was not a name that Gilglîr had ever heard. "Is there not another one, a young Elf called Durrandîr?"
Estel shook his head. "Just those three. I also have a sister, and her name is Arwen. She was here when I arrived, but after she gave me a bath, she went away to Lothlórien."
"But was not Durrandîr here as well when you arrived?"
"No," said Estel cheerfully. "Just ElladanElrohir'n'Anomen."
"Very well. Tell me a bit about Anomen. What color is his hair?"
"Oh, it changes," said Estel airily.
Gilglîr struggled to hide his excitement. Perhaps Glorfindel had been telling the truth. Durrandîr was his son, and this other one, this 'Anomen', was Thranduil's heir. Of course, he could not overlook the possibility that 'Anomen' was another name for 'Durrandîr'.
"What do you mean, it changes?"
"My brothers are very naughty sometimes. They paint each other's hair."
"Have Elladan and Elrohir ever 'painted' Anomen's hair brown?"
"Oh, no. Why would they? That wouldn't be any fun at all."
No, thought a disappointed Gilglîr, it wouldn't be any fun dying the hair of a brown-haired Elf brown. Of course, Estel had only meant that the young Elves favored bright dyes, like blue and orange and purple.
Gilglîr, however, did not realize this, so he abandoned that line of questioning and opened up a new one.
"Many Elves visit Imladris, is that not so?"
"Oh, yes. Everyone wants to come to Rivendell—even Dwarves sometimes. And Gandalf says that once a Periannath came here!"
"Gandalf?"
"Mifunder!" lisped the urchin through his missing front teeth. "But he doesn't like it when I say that, so I call him his other name." The wizard's elven name was one that the child still had trouble with, although he never mispronounced it deliberately, as he did Erestor's.
"Ah, now I understand."
"Gandalf says that one day he may bring another Periannath here!"
"Is that so?"
Only once in his life had Gilglîr met one of the fabled Halflings, a bold little fellow who had single-handedly headed off a battle at the Lonely Mountain between Dwarves and the combined forces of Mirkwood and Esgaroth. The Periannath had spirited away the Arkenstone so dear to the Dwarf Thorin and then returned it in exchange for that Dwarf's reluctant agreement to share the hoard of the dragon Smaug, who had been slain by a Laketown archer, with both Elves and Men. Gilglîr had been impressed not only by that Periannath's doughtiness but by his unselfishness, for he had agreed to forfeit his own share of the treasure in order to bring about the truce. And this to forestall harm to people who were not even his of his race, let alone his kin! For a brief moment the seneschal wondered what had become of that Halfling, but then he once again began to question Estel.
"So Rivendell is visited by Dwarves and even an occasional Periannath."
"Yes."
"And of course Men visit here from time to time."
"Yes! Especially Halbarad.
One of the Dúnadain, no doubt, thought Gilglîr. In Mirkwood it had long been known that Elrond willingly hosted those uncouth humans.
"And Elves from foreign realms journey here, too, is that not so, Estel!"
The lad nodded vigorously.
"No doubt some of these Elves look much different from the Imladris Elves."
"Very different!" declared Estel emphatically. "You don't dress at all like a Rivendell Elf, and Rivendell Elves have dark hair."
"My hair is golden. Have any other Elf with golden hair been visiting Rivendell—perhaps an Elf about as old as Elladan or Elrohir?"
"Oh, yes."
For a second time Gilglîr struggled to hide his excitement.
"Can you tell me about this young Elf?"
"I can tell you plenty because he is my friend. His name is Haldir, and he comes from Lothlórien. He has two brothers, and he promised that someday they would come to visit me. He kept his promise, for they arrived when you did!"
Haldir of Lothlórien. The Elf Gilglîr had met fighting Orcs in the Misty Mountains. Ai! Had Gilglîr asked whether any golden-haired Elves lived in Rivendell rather than visited in Rivendell, he would have gotten a very different answer. Estel would have cheerfully regaled him with tales about both Glorfindel and Anomen. But Gilglîr did not ask. Instead, he sighed. Perhaps, he thought, Legolas had once been in Rivendell, but if he had, not recently enough for Estel to have met him. The seneschal was sure that the imp could manage a convincing lie at will, but he doubted that a child so young could dissemble at such length and with such consistency. No, Legolas was not in Rivendell.
Thus far Estel had told Gilglîr nothing to contradict anything that the Elf had been told by Glorfindel. Of course, that did not mean that Legolas had never been in Rivendell. In the end, Gilglîr would have to corner Elrond and perhaps Elrohir as well—separately, of course, so that they could not collude. Gilglîr arose and bade farewell to Estel.
"Thank you for sharing your time and your dog with me, Estel. I must go now to speak with your foster-father."
"Of course!"
The lad nodded and, sliding from the bench, began to romp with his dog. One further thought occurred to Gilglîr.
"Estel," he called.
The boy looked up at him and smiled.
"Have you ever," Gilglîr said hopefully, "met an Elf named Leif?"
Estel shook his head vigorously.
"Ah. Very well then, Estel. Farewell for now."
"Farewell, Lord Gilglîr."
"So," Gilglîr thought to himself as he walked away, "if 'Leif' is indeed the name of Glorfindel's irregular son, he has not been in Rivendell recently. But neither has 'Durrandîr, assuming, of course, that 'Durrandir' is not in fact merely another name for this 'Leif'. The only foster-son of Elrond that Estel is acquainted with is 'Anomen', and he does not have golden-hair."
Gilglîr shook his head in bafflement. Tawarmaenas was sure that he had seen a grown-up Laiqua in Galadriel's mirror, and who else could Beorn's father have assisted? Yet if Legolas had not come to Imladris, where had he fled? Who had given him sanctuary? Was it possible that he dwelled alone in some desert place, scrabbling a living as a hunter or trapper. In the north perhaps, where only Rangers trod? Thus musing, Gilglîr came at last to Elrond's chamber.
The Lord of Imladris had been expecting this interview ever since the messenger had arrived with news of the approach of the Greenwood Elves. He was on his guard, of course, but also knew that he could not lie. Gilglîr, however, made things easy for him.
"You have a most interesting household, Lord Elrond," he commenced. "Dwelling here at the moment are your own sons by birth, but also a little human foster-son, and an elven foster-son by the name of Anomen. You have a generous spirit, to open your home and heart to those not related to you by blood, indeed, not even of your race, in the case of the little human."
"I thank you," Elrond replied gravely, waiting for Gilglîr to begin questioning him closely about Anomen.
Gilglîr, however, had been innocently misled by Estel into thinking Anomen had brown hair. To Elrond's surprise, the Seneschal thus said no more about that young Elf.
"Have you had any other fosterlings, Elrond?"
"Oh, yes, several, some from Imladris itself, others from Lothlórien."
He did not, Gilglîr noticed with disappointment, say that he had ever had any from Greenwood. Of course, it never occurred to Gilglîr to ask whether Anomen himself was from Greenwood. The Seneschal went on nevertheless.
"Are any of these fosterlings hereabouts at the moment?"
"No, only the two you have mentioned. There have been no others for the last thousand years."
Gilglîr's hopes of finding Legolas at Rivendell very nearly withered. Not for the last thousand years! Still, he had one last throw.
"Has Imladris ever been visited by an Elf named 'Durrandîr' or one named 'Leif'?"
"Elves called so have never set foot within this realm," replied Elrond blandly.
"My Lord Elrond, forgive me, but I have lately heard a rumor that Lord Glorfindel has fathered a son. Is this so?"
"Only Glorfindel can answer such a question with surety. But," Elrond continued, smiling now for he realized that Gilglîr was at an impasse, "surely you have not traveled all this way for small talk. Let us turn our attention to this message that you brought from King Thranduil. I find that his requests for revisions in our latest treaty are eminently reasonable, and, if you like, I can have Erestor draw up the amended terms within a day or two. Would that be agreeable?"
Gilglîr could say naught else but say that it would be agreeable indeed, and so he gave over all hope that Elrond would unravel the mystery of Legolas/Leif/Durrandîr.
Even though Gilglîr had managed to win no information from Elrond, perhaps, he mused as he left Elrond's chamber, one of the twin sons would be more forthcoming than the father had been. Ai! Here, too, the Seneschal was to be thwarted. Gilglîr observed that neither Elladan nor Elrohir were present at the noon meal that took place shortly after his conversation with Elrond. All else were present: Tawarmaenas, Estel, Erestor, Glorfindel, Mithrandir, and, of course, Elrond, himself.
"Where are the twins this fine day, Lord Elrond?"
"They have left for the west, to reinforce one of the companies that patrols the border nigh the Last Bridge. They will be gone for several weeks, I am afraid."
To the west. Not to the Misty Mountains. For several weeks. Ruling out any chance that Gilglîr would encounter Elrohir even on his journey home, let alone during the remainder of his stay in Rivendell. Gilglîr tried to steel his face so that his vexation would not show, but he was sure he caught a glint of amusement in Elrond's eyes. Moreover, he was certain that he heard Mithrandir snort, a rather astonishing noise to come from out of the wizard's estimable beard.
Not too many days later, the Greenwood Elves, accompanied by Haldir and his brothers, bade farewell to the Imladris Elves and to Gandalf, who had announced his intention to once again visit the land of the Periannath.
"I wonder which of the Imladris Elves was Mithrandir's son," commented Maegcrist as they rode away from Rivendell on the horses that Elrond had loaned them for the first stage of their return journey.
"What!" exclaimed Gilglîr, scandalized.
"Oh, did you not know? It seems that it is not only Glorfindel who has sired an irregular child. I was once in Esgaroth when a trader swore that the wizard had a son living in Elrond's household. His story was quite convincing. He said that Elrond himself had confirmed the relationship."
Gilglîr shook his head in bewilderment. Was there something in the water that flowed through the fountains of Rivendell, some mineral that incited liaisons of the carnal variety? If so, Elrond had better keep its existence a well-hidden secret, else Men from all around Middle Earth would be traveling to Imladris eager to bottle the infusion. In any event, the mystery was rekindled. Was Glorfindel covering for Mithrandir? Mithrandir covering for Glorfindel? Was either, or both, covering for Elrond? Or Elrond covering for one or more of them!? And where, if at all, did Legolas fit into the puzzle!? Whatever the case, Gilglîr had to fight the urge to wheel about and gallop back to Rivendell, there to demand that his questions be answered. No, he would simply have to concede that he had been bested by the Elves of Imladris, who had tongues as honeyed as if they had been dipping into Beorn's larder.
"Still," Gilglîr mused as he rode on by the side of Tawarmaenas, "this trip has not been a total loss. Only look at how much Tawarmaenas has grown in stature in the eyes of his folk. The warriors for the most part now take their commands from him. More and more I am the advisor rather than the guardian. No, I cannot rue the decision to make this journey, even if the outcome was not altogether to my liking. Moreover, Tawarmaenas and I have learned nothing to put an end to the hope that Legolas still lives; indeed, we have learned somewhat that confirms us in that belief."
Yes, Gilglîr thought with increasing confidence, he would continue to trust that Legolas dwelled somewhere in Middle Earth. It was only a pity that he could not share that conviction with Thranduil. But that day would come, he was sure. That day would come.