Folks, I haven't done anything with this story in a while, but here at last is something for the elfling Anomen fans.
Kelly Kragen: Yes, Edwen Nana can be quite fierce, as she will again show in this story. But all in all, she is a gentle soul (except, of course, when she is protecting her elflings or bringing cleanliness and hygiene to the masses).
Farflung: Yes, no one can outlast Edwen Nana. She is the Eveready Bunny of Middle Earth. If they'd had a few of her at Helm's Deep and Minas Tirith, those would have been short battles. She probably would have washed the Orcs to death!
Melissa: Thank you. I'm glad you like Legolas' character development. I'm with you; I like stories in which the characters grown and change.
Karri: Yes, as you and Farflung point out, Legolas needs a father figure. No doubt that is one reason that Legolas embraces Gandalf as his mentor, as well, as, eventually, Elrond and to some extent Glorfindel.
Kitsune: Definitely distasteful, and on every level!
SilentBanshee: My daughter is a vegetarian. I must confess that I do enjoy the flavor of meat, but when I indulge myself, I try not to think about where it comes from.
Joee: Sorry for ruining your breakfast. But to console you, I did write that chapter in which Tathar and Legolas are reunited!
Dragonfly: Yes, the minute Edwen Nana told him to be careful with those arrows, it was inevitable that he shoot something that he ought not to. It is a law of both childhood and literature.
Beta reader: Dragonfly!
A Change of Clothes
Tathar and Laiqua were paddling about in the small forest pool that was one of the few places Laiqua was permitted to frequent, one other being the spring from which he and Nana fetched water. Although Laiqua could not see them, he knew that Watchers were hidden thereabouts, and should he try to wander away from the bathing hole, those silent, grave Elves would suddenly materialize. He did not understand why he was always surrounded by Watchers, for Tathar was not so plagued, but, because he had grown up under their eye, he accepted their existence as a matter of course.
After splashing and ducking each other for a very great while, Tathar and Laiqua pulled themselves out of the pool and lay upon the grass to dry. As they rested in the sun, Laiqua idly compared himself to his friend.
"We are of an age, Tathar."
"True. I am merely a fortnight older than you."
"We are of the same height."
"Yes, and the same weight as well."
"Our hair is a bit different."
"Yes, yours is golden and mine is red."
"We both have birthmarks."
"True, although mine is an ordinary strawberry birthmark upon my shoulder whilst yours is upon your arm and looks like elven lettering."
"When we are clad and our hoods are raised, we must look very much alike," mused Laiqua.
"Do you know," said Tathar, impressed, "I believe you are right. I wonder: do you suppose if we switched clothes, we could trick Edwen Nana?"
Laiqua sat up, suddenly excited.
"Let's try! I'm quite dry now. I'll put on your clothes; you put on mine. It is getting toward dusk, and it grows cool and breezy, so it wouldn't seem odd to Edwen Nana if we came back with our hoods up. We'll see if she addresses us by the wrong names."
Tathar grinned.
"What if she calls me in for supper and bids you run along home to my parents' cottage?"
"Oh, that would be lovely," enthused Laiqua. "If she were to do so, I'm sure I could run right by the Watchers without them stopping me. They would see you go into the cottage and pay me no mind at all!"
Both elflings giggled, but then Tathar grew solemn.
"It won't work, Laiqua."
"Why not?"
"Those Watchers of yours. They'll see you putting on my clothes, and I putting on yours. They won't be fooled in the least."
"Oh, we can manage," said Laiqua excitedly. "Once time I was trying to slip into the forest, and as usual a Watcher suddenly stood in my path. I made as if to make water, and he turned his back upon me until I was finished. I have tried it several times, and it never fails. I make water; they turn their backs upon me."
"Pity you don't have a larger bladder," observed Tathar, "for then you would long ago have escaped the clearing, leaving a trail the Watchers would have been loath to follow!"
More giggling. Then Laiqua leaped to his feet, seizing Tathar's bundle of clothing as he did so.
"Ooooh, Tathar," he groaned loudly, "I have to make water very badly. And then I will dress straightaway. Brrrrr. It has grown so very cold."
Tathar, too, leaped to his feet, Laiqua's clothes clutched to his chest.
"I as well," he declared. "I wish my hair were dry, for I shiver in this cold breeze."
"Make haste to pull up your hood," Laiqua advised in a concerned voice. "I will do likewise."
Laiqua commenced to make water in as conspicuous fashion as possible, and as he did so, Tathar pulled on Laiqua's clothes and drew up the hood. The instant Laiqua was finished, Tathar began to make water, and Laiqua hastily yanked on Tathar's garments. He, too, pulled up his hood. Then, heads lowered for good measure, the two elflings scampered for the clearing. Once there, they settled themselves upon the ground and played with Laiqua's armies of twigs and stones. The twigs were Elves, the stones of course Orcs.
After they had sent a considerable number of Orcs packing, Edwen Nana came to the door of the cottage.
"Tathar," she called, "you had best set out for your own cottage, as it grows late."
Laiqua at once leaped to his feet and raced into the forest. The Watchers he ran by spared him not a single glance, their eyes fixed as they were upon Tathar, who, dressed in Laiqua's clothes, remained playing with the twigs and sticks as Edwen Nana turned and reentered the cottage.
A little while later Edwen Nana again came to the door of the cottage.
"Laiqua, come in and wash for supper."
Tathar promptly arose and went in, making for the dry sink. There he poured water from the jug into the basin and washed his hands and as much of his face as he could reach underneath the hood. Then he sat himself at the table.
"Laiqua," Edwen Nana chided him, "you know better than to keep your hood up at the table."
Outside in the forest the Watchers were stretching and moving about a bit. The most trying part of the day was over, now that the royal scamp was safely in for the night. Suddenly, however, they started at the sound of a bloodcurdling shriek. Seizing their weapons, they ran for the cottage. As they reached the door, Edwen Nana, in great haste, came reeling out in a most ungraceful fashion, running headlong into the lead Watcher, who tumbled to the ground. The next Watcher she seized by the tunic and shook until he was sure his brains were rattling about in his skull.
"You-must-find-Laiqua," she got out between shakes. "You-must-find-Laiqua."
"But-but-my Lady," stammered the bewildered Watcher. "We saw Laiqua go into the cottage only a little while ago, and he has not come out again!" Had the elfling perchance at last driven the nursemaid out of her wits? It seemed not implausible.
"That wasn't Laiqua," wailed Edwen Nana. "That was Tathar wearing Laiqua's clothes. Oh, it grows dark, and the spiders will soon be out! I pray you, make haste!"
That last sentence was unnecessary, for the Watchers had already turned and were racing for the forest, all save one who took Tathar in hand to escort him to his own cottage, for it was now too late for the elfling to go home by himself.
While Tathar had been decoying first the watchers and then Edwen Nana, Laiqua had been running as fast as he could down the path that led to the Tathar's home. To the elfling, making it that far would be adventure enough. Besides, it was necessary to go there so that Tathar's parents would not worry over his whereabouts. However, it did not seem to him that he had gone very far before he heard Edwen Nana's shriek.
"I had better get off the trail," he thought to himself, "else the Watchers will catch me straightaway."
Quickly he scrambled up a tree. He knew the Watchers would have no difficulty descrying where he had left the path, so he leapt from tree to tree, caroming from side to side to make matters as confusing as possible. At length, satisfied that he must have thrown his pursuers off his trail, he sat down upon a branch and, grinning, looked about. All was quiet save for the birds who sang in evening chorus.
"Well," he said after awhile, "I had best go on. If I delay overmuch, Tathar's parents will become fearful."
He arose and balanced on the branch, hesitating for a bit. It dawned on him that he had jumped about with such abandon that he would have difficulty in retracing his route. Actually, he suddenly realized, he would not be able to retrace his route at all!
This was disconcerting. The sun had dropped below the horizon, and, in the middle of the woods as he was, with the entire forest floor in shadow, he could not even begin to guess at which way lay west, which way east. But even if he could have divined the location of the sun, the knowledge would have helped him not one whit, for he did not know if he stood north, south, east, or west of the cottage. He was well and truly lost.
At first he was not dreadfully frightened, for he knew the Watchers would be looking for him. He opened his mouth to give a shout, but he paused when he heard a rustling and hissing sound nearby. Watchers rarely rustled, and they never hissed. Spiders, however, did both. Now he feared to shout, for he knew he might bring a spider down upon him. He looked about carefully, scanning the forest for a shelter, some tiny space into which he could creep that would not admit a spider. He saw nothing. He climbed down from the tree and began to walk, still searching for a hiding place.
"Ugh," he muttered at last, wiping sticky strands from his face. He had blundered into a spider web. Fortunately, it was old and tattered, its silken cords hanging limp. He peeled the sticky stuff from his face and looked about him once more. What was that object hanging up above? It looked a bit like a caterpillar's cocoon. As he watched, it began to undulate. Fascinated, Laiqua gazed at the silk-wrapped pod. Would a giant butterfly soon emerge? The writhing cocoon suddenly split asunder—and out crawled the first of hundreds of baby spiders. The arachnid released a silken cord and began to rappel down it, straight toward Laiqua's head. In its wake its siblings came pouring out of the cracked pod. Nearly witless with fear, Laiqua let out a yelp and took to his heels. He was now no longer anxious to find shelter, for, be his hiding place ever so small, the baby spiders at least would be able to crawl in after him—and, newly hatched as they were, they had yet to enjoy their first meal!
It was now pitch dark, and had not it been for Laiqua's keen elven senses, no doubt he would have battered himself to death against the tree trunks as he frantically ran he knew not where. At length, however, he recovered his wits and stood quite still. At first he heard nothing but the pounding of his own frightened heart. Then he heard a distant sound that gave him hope. Hoofbeats! There must be a path hereabouts. Unerringly, Laiqua headed toward the comforting sound.
Closer and closer the sound drew until Laiqua could see motion through a break in the trees. Eagerly he stepped forward into the path.
"Mae govannen," called Laiqua.
An elf-rider stopped, astonished. The little person who had suddenly materialized in front of him had his hood up so that in the dim light his face could not be seen, but it was nonetheless plain from his voice that he was an elfling. But wherefore would such a tiny elfling be alone at night in the forest of Greenwood, which was a perilous place, home as it was to elf-eating spiders?
"What are you doing here?" the elf-rider exclaimed.
"I am lost," the elfling replied simply. "Will you help me get home?"
"Where is your home?"
"I don't know," replied the elfling, wondering why the elf-rider would ask such a silly question when he had already told him that he was lost. If he knew where his home was, he wouldn't be lost, would he!?
"Well," replied the rider, flummoxed, "I don't know where your home is, either!"
"Oh," said Laiqua sadly, turning to reenter the forest, for he was fearful of remaining in the open.
"Wait!" cried the rider. "You surely don't mean to continue on your own!"
"But you said that you don't know where my home is."
"True, but I ride for the Great Hall with messages from Lothlórien to King Thranduil. I shall take you with me, and the Elves there can make inquiries on your behalf. Do not doubt but that they will find out your home."
"You think so?" asked Laiqua hopefully.
"Of course!"
The Elf bent down and took hold of Laiqua's hand, pulling him up and settling the elfling before him.
"Are you hungry, young one?"
"Oh, yes!"
The elf-rider drew a leaf-wrapped wafer of lembas bread from a saddle-bag and broke off a tiny piece.
"It is very filling," he warned Laiqua. "Nibble it slowly."
Laiqua took a few bites and found that he was indeed full. The elf-rider then offered him his water bladder, which Laiqua accepted gladly, as he was quite thirsty after all the running he had done.
"I am Rúmil," the rider told him when he had finished his brief but satisfying meal. "I serve the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn. This is," he added proudly, "the first time ever I have ridden out."
"Rúmil," repeated the elfling. "And I am Laiqua."
"Laiqua. Who is your father?"
"I have no father," answered Laiqua cheerfully.
"The name of your mother, then?"
"Edwen Nana."
"She is your foster mother?"
"Yes."
"What was the name of your first mother, the one who bore you?"
"I don't know."
This was troubling, Rúmil thought to himself. How was the elfling's home to be found if he could not tell the searchers the name of his father or mother?
"What is your foster mother's name?"
"I have said so. Edwen Nana."
"Yes, that is what you call her, but what is her given name?"
Laiqua was unable to say. He had never heard his foster mother called anything but Edwen Nana. Both Tathar and his parents addressed her so.
Rúmil was nonplussed but consoled himself with the thought that in the end he would not be the one who had to restore the elfling to his home. Let Thranduil's Elves puzzle the matter out.
In fact, Rúmil's guardianship of the elfling would be even briefer than he expected. Without warning, Rúmil found himself suddenly surrounded by a group of Elves, each dressed identically, each equally grim, and each bearing a drawn bow, its arrow pointed at Rúmil's head. One of them, the leader apparently, stepped forward.
"I did not know that the Galadhrim were in the habit of stealing elflings," he said accusingly.
"I was not stealing him," protested Rúmil. "I was merely taking him to the Great Hall."
"Why take him there? That is nowhere near his cottage," retorted the leader sharply.
"I did not know that," replied Rúmil. "The little one could not direct me to his home. I suppose," he added sarcastically, "that I could have left him alone in a spider-ridden forest. Would that have suited you better than my taking him up before me and providing him with lembas bread and water?"
Laiqua spoke up timidly.
"It's true. I asked him to help me, and he did. He is very nice, even if he is from Lothlórien."
"Thank you for that resoundingly favorable endorsement," said Rúmil dryly.
That at last wrung a smile from the face of the lead Watcher. He lowered his bow and gestured for the others to do likewise.
"I am sorry. We were alarmed for the elfling's safety. Your pardon."
"It is granted."
The leader came alongside Rúmil's horse, and the Lórien Elf handed down Laiqua, who was soon perched comfortably upon the Watcher's shoulders.
"Farewell, Laiqua," said Rúmil. "Stay well."
"Thank you, Rúmil. Mayhap someday I will see you again. I shall be a great warrior when I grow up, and perhaps I shall travel to Lothlórien and draw sword by your side."
Rúmil kept a serious expression upon his face and bowed gravely.
"I look forward to that day, Laiqua."
With that, the Watchers vanished back into the forest, taking Laiqua with them. Rúmil rode wonderingly onward.
"Curious, very curious indeed. The little fellow knew not his father nor his mother and apparently dwells in a cottage with a foster-mother who is also nameless. He was dressed plainly enough, too. Yet in pursuit of him comes a troop of well-dressed, well-armed warriors who are prepared to riddle with arrows anyone who might threaten the waif. This is passing strange!"
Of course, it would be centuries before Rúmil would learn the solution to this mystery.
As for Laiqua, he was a little disappointed that he was not to go to the Great Hall, for he was sure it must be a very grand place. However, he did not brood overmuch. Tired out by the day's adventures, he soon fell asleep, his head bobbing as the Watcher who bore him strode rapidly back toward the cottage. He did not even awake when he was handed over to Edwen Nana, who gently undressed him and put him to bed. The next day he of course received a fierce scolding from the nursemaid, and he was not allowed to play outside for a fortnight. Nor was Tathar permitted to visit him during that time. These penalties he bore with very good grace, for he knew better than to complain when he was justly punished. As he was always justly punished, this meant that he never complained!
During Laiqua's term of indoor punishment, he had no need of a cloak, of course. When the fortnight came to an end, he eagerly reached for that garment where it hung from a hook by the door. Ai! When he drew it on, he discovered that Edwen Nana, inveterate seamstress that she was, had altered it. And during the remainder of his days in the clearing, never again was he to wear a cloak with a hood!