MoroTheWolfGod: Hello! Welcome back. Haven't heard from you in a while. Wasn't sure you were still reading. Glad you are.

Dragonfly: Thanks for helping me keep ahead of the angry hoards!

Legosgurl: Thanks! Pass on my thanks to Legoslover, too.

Andi-Black: You are such a cynic!

Blessing of Earendil: Power! Hehehe, I love it! Grovel! Grovel!

Karri: Yes, Anomen has always been a 'quick study'.

Joee: Yes, Anomen is much more resourceful than I would have been. Like you, I would have probably starved.

Beta Reader: Dragonfly

Blind Fate: Chapter 3

A great hubbub broke out as the wizard and elfling entered the Hall, and Anomen did not need his eyes to know how glad folk were at his return. From all sides Anomen heard exclamations of joy. Gandalf, however, quickly guided him through the throng, making for Elrond's chamber. There they found the elf-lord wide awake, for he had no more been able to sleep than Gandalf had.

"Enter," he said sadly in response to Gandalf's knock, but when he saw Anomen walk into the room, he sprang from his chair and literally ran across the room to embrace him.

"Anomen," he cried, giving vent to rather unelvenly enthusiasm, "we have all been dreadfully worried about you! I am so relieved that you are unharmed!"

"He is not altogether unharmed," Gandalf warned him. "He has taken a nasty blow to his head, and it has bereft him of his vision. You had better examine him."

"A blow to the head? I see. Tell me, Anomen, was the blow hard enough for you to lose consciousness?"

"Yes."

"How long were you unconscious—can you tell me that?"

"I'm not sure. It was daylight when I fell from the tree, and it was daylight still when I awoke."

"How did you know that it was daylight? Did you still have the use of your eyes when you regained consciousness?"

"No, but I could feel the sunlight upon my face and hear the day birds singing."

"That's a good lad," Elrond said approvingly. "I see that you retained the use of your wits and made excellent use of them."

Elrond now lifted Anomen onto a table. Holding a candle near, the elf-healer first looked in Anomen's ears and nose for any signs of blood. He was relieved to see that there was none.

"I am going to bring the candle quite near your eyes. When you feel the warmth of the candle, you will of course instinctively wish to close your eyes, but I want you to fight that impulse."

Anomen nodded and did his best, but suddenly he felt a sharp pain behind his eyes and thought he saw a dazzling light. He squeezed his eyes shut in spite of himself. Elrond, however, was not displeased.

"You saw something just then, didn't you?"

"Yes, a bright light."

"Your pupils contracted quite normally," Elrond said.

"Is that good?"

"It very well may be, although I do not wish to make any extravagant promises. I see no injuries in the eyes themselves. Anomen, I am going to give you a potion that will make you feel sleepy. That sensation is something that I do not wish you to fight against. Instead, allow the drowsiness to take you."

At that, Anomen tightly clutched Gandalf's robe. He had been frightened when Gandalf had used the word 'concussion', for Elrohir had once told him that if a person fell asleep after suffering a concussion, he might never wake up. Yet here was Elrond giving him a potion to make him fall asleep!

"Mithrandir, will you stay with me?" he begged.

"Indeed I will," the wizard reassured him. He picked up the elfling and carried him to Elrond's bed, where he sat himself down with Anomen cradled against his chest. Elrond held up a cup to Anomen's mouth, and the elfling obediently drank the elixir down to the last drop. Just as Elrond had said, he soon found himself growing sleepy. Oddly, though, as he dozed off, he did not feel as if he were falling from blackness into a deeper blackness. Instead, he felt as if were drifting toward a distant glow. But this, of course, must have been a dream brought on by Elrond's potion.

Anomen awoke to a rumbling noise. He was lying with his face on something soft. Instinctively, he opened his eyes, forgetting that he could not see. To his surprise, though, he was not confronted by a wall of darkness. Instead, the world was gray.

"I wonder if my eyesight is coming back," he said aloud.

"What do you see?" said Elrond's voice.

"A grey patch."

Elrond chuckled.

"Lift up your chin."

Anomen lifted his head up a little bit and now saw a white cloud—no, it was a white beard! And the grey patch was none other than Gandalf's robe. Anomen had been dozing on Gandalf's chest, and the rumbling sound he heard was the wizard snoring.

Anomen sat up carefully and looked about.

"I can see, and I am glad I can see. Things look a little fuzzy, but it is still better to see badly than not to see at all."

"As the days pass, your eyesight will grow better and better. Soon your vision will be as keen as it ever was."

"Do you think so?" said Anomen, wondering if he dared permit himself to believe Elrond's words.

"Yes, I think so. You took a nasty blow to the head, but you are recovering. I put you into a deep sleep the better to allow your injured brain to heal. As the swelling continues to go down, your brain and your eyes will sort things out."

"May I get up?"

"You must take things easy for several days. No running about! No horseback riding! No wrestling! No tree climbing! If you will promise to obey these rules, then, yes, you may get up."

"Oh, I promise," replied Anomen earnestly. "I merely want to get up because I very badly need to make water."

Elrond smiled and helped Anomen off the bed, for he was a trifle unsteady on his feet. But the elfling insisted on being left to his own devices when they arrived at the garderobe. "I'm not going to fall in!" he exclaimed indignantly when Elrond offered to support him whilst he made use of the tiny chamber.

"You'd best not," retorted Elrond as he departed, "because if you do I'm not going to climb down to rescue you!"

It occurred to Anomen that it would be an interesting sight to see Elrond climbing down the noisome shaft, and for the briefest of moments the elfling was indeed tempted to fall through the opening. However, his horror of filth won out, and the temptation vanished as quickly as it had come. What Anomen did not know was that on one occasion Elrond had been forced to make the descent. Elrohir was responsible, but for once that elfling had not gotten into mischief on purpose. He had simply been very little, and whilst balancing his bottom on the edge of the seat, he had slipped in. His twin Elladan had set up a great wail, and Elrond had come running. When he realized what the matter was, he looked as if he would have rather been fighting Orcs. However, at that particular moment there were no Orcs nearer than the crevasses of the Misty Mountains, and so Elrond, with a rope around his chest, had been forced to allow Glorfindel to lower him into the garderobe. He got a firm grip on Elrohir—it was not easy, as the elfling was, well, the elfling was slimy—and then Glorfindel had pulled the two back to the surface. Of course, as soon as Elrond and Elrohir emerged from the garderobe, Glorfindel dropped the rope and hastily retreated, leaving the malodorous duo to make their way alone, through deserted hallways, to the nearest bathing room, where every cauldron had been filled with water and nearly a month's supply of soap had been left to hand. Elrond and Elrohir had bathed first in one cauldron and then moved to the next until they had made use of each and every one. Even so, the two had the table to themselves that night at dinner, although Elrond protested that there was no possible way any odor could still cling to them.

"We scrubbed ourselves so thoroughly," he grumbled, "that I am sure we shed more skin than a molting serpent."

His protests were in vain, however, as no one was willing to draw near enough to assay the truth of his words.

This was a story that Elrond and Elrohir did not care—and Glorfindel did not dare!—to repeat, and so it was that Anomen knew nothing of the tale. It would have comforted him to know, however, that Elves are not always ethereal creatures, for as he made way back to Elrond's room, he found that his eyes were not always in communication with his feet. He stumbled many times and more than once bumped into a wall. "I am as clumsy as a Man," he moaned to himself. At last he hit upon a clever solution. He closed his eyes and thus made his way easily back to the chamber, walking swiftly and with confidence, in the same fashion as he had traversed the path in the garden.

Over the next several weeks, Anomen's eyesight returned to normal (which is to say, that it became much sharper than a Man's), but the elfling experienced an unexpected side-effect: his hearing, smell, and sense of touch, which had been necessarily heightened during his ordeal, did not return to their former levels. Of course, as he was an Elf, these particular senses had always been superior to those of Men, but now they were superior even to those of most Elves. And he had an uncanny ability to close his eyes and walk without bumping into objects.

A year after Anomen's accident, his senses were still heightened, and Elrond was of the opinion that the change was permanent. This troubled no one save Elrohir, who was a little envious that Anomen, who had always excelled in archery, now also excelled at any task that required keen smell, hearing, or touch. His mood was not improved when he complained to his twin and Elladan replied cheerfully that he must have a superior sense of taste because he had the best appetite of anyone at their table.

"I don't want to be renowned for my exploits at the table," Elrohir grumbled. "I want to be celebrated as a hunter and tracker and warrior. Give Anomen the slightest scent, the slightest sound, and he can locate his prey whilst the rest of us are still examining the spoor of our quarry. It's not fair!"

It was with that frame of mind that Elrohir one day joined Elladan and Anomen on an excursion to the east of Rivendell. The earthquake had greatly changed the landscape, and even a year later the elflings were discovering new features in the terrain.

After walking for several hours, the elflings stopped to eat their lunch. The food was excellent, the day was warm, and soon the elflings were asleep. Elrohir was the first to wake up. He nudged Elladan.

"Elladan, wake up," he whispered.

"Mmph."

Elladan rolled away. Elrohir tried again.

"Elladan," he hissed, shaking his brother's shoulder, "wake up."

Elladan's eyes came into focus.

"Whassamatter?"

"We're wasting time. We should explore some more before it grows too late."

Elladan yawned.

"'Nomenshtillshleepin'."

"Oh, leave him sleep," implored Elrohir. "Let's just you and I go exploring for once."

At last Elladan reluctantly gave in to his twin's entreaties, and the two slipped off. They had walked only a short distance when Elrohir, to his great satisfaction, saw a small cave entrance that had not existed before the earthquake. "If Anomen had been along," he gloated to himself, "no doubt he would have spotted it first. I am glad we left him behind!"

Triumphantly, Elrohir pointed out the opening to Elladan and proposed that they should climb down into it and explore. Elladan vigorously objected.

"You know that we are not allowed in caves! Trolls live in such places!"

"You dwarf-pate," scoffed Elrohir. "That opening is much too small to admit a Troll! Indeed, I believe a full-grown Elf would be unable to slip through it!"

"You may go in if you like," Elladan at last said, "but I am going to keep watch at the entrance. No one knows where we have gotten to, and if something were to go wrong, someone needs to be able to go for help."

"Oh, very well," said Elrohir grudgingly. Then his face suddenly brightened. "At least," he enthused, "this means that I shall get all the credit for this discovery!"

Elrohir quickly made and kindled a torch, and Elladan held the burning brand as his twin crawled through the entrance, which angled down. Once Elrohir had safely found his feet, Elladan handed the torch through the opening.

"Don't go far, Elrohir," he begged. "Even if there are no Trolls in that cave, there may be other dangers."

"I'll explore until the torch is nearly half burned, and then I'll promptly turn back," Elrohir promised. Elladan peered through the opening as the light from the torch steadily descended. When he could no longer see even the slightest flicker, he sat back and looked about. At once he noticed that the sky, which had been clear, was now overcast.

"It will rain soon," he thought to himself, and he drew his cloak up over his head. Soon the first drops fell from the sky. It was warm, and Elladan didn't mind. Quickly, however, the gentle rain was transformed into a torrential downpour. Elladan was soon soaked. Still, he didn't mind—until he suddenly realized that rainwater was pouring into the entrance to the cave. He sprang to the opening and peered in. To his horror, he saw a virtual waterfall cascading down into the tunnel. What if his brother should become trapped in the depths of the cave?

Elladan repeatedly shouted his brother's name into the tunnel but received no answer. "I must go after him!" he cried, and he quickly assembled a torch, although the sticks and leaves that he used were drenched. Again and again he tried to kindle the brand, but all his efforts were in vain.

The onset of the rainfall had awoken Anomen, and he, like Elladan, had not been troubled by it. He was a little disappointed to find that he had been abandoned by the twins, but he merely shrugged his shoulders and drew his own cloak over his head, meaning to wait for the return of his foster-brothers. After a few minutes, however, he heard Elladan's frantic shouts, and he leaped up and sprinted in the direction of the cries. Quickly he located Elladan, who was still trying to light his torch.

"Anomen," Elladan cried as soon as he saw Anomen, "you must run to the Hall for help. Elrohir is in that cave, and I am afraid that he will drown if no one brings him out!"

Anomen glanced swiftly at the opening that Elladan pointed out and shook his head.

"The Hall is too far for help to arrive in time, and even if it were closer, no grown Elf could fit through that hole. I will go down myself."

"But, Anomen," Elladan wailed, "I can't get this torch to kindle! Everything is too wet."

"I'll go in without one," Anomen declared. "I'll feel my way."

At once he made good on that declaration, throwing aside his cloak and sliding down into the cave. For several minutes an anxious Elladan could make out his figure, but then his foster-brother vanished into the darkness.