THE FINAL CHAPTER OF THIS STORY! (sniff, sniff)
Joee: Yes, Elrond hands down his judgment upon the elflings in this chapter.
Dragonfly: Any punishment meted out to the elflings will be no more than they deserve! But I wouldn't worry too much about them; these elflings are like cats: they always land on their feet.
Karri: Thank you, Karri. I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. I hope you like the final chapter as well, although the ending has a bit of angst in it.
Legosgurl: Oops! I've radically altered your image of Gandalf. I'm not sure Tolkien would thank me for that, even though I meant no disrespect. These stories arise out of love for the characters and the world he created.
Beta Reader: Dragonfly. Dragonfly, I changed the paragraph in which Gimli is first mentioned and then made some other changes at the very end. I hope they clarified the situation.
Chapter 12: Gandalf Scarecrow
His shoulder bandaged, Gandalf pulled on Glorfindel's spare leggings and tunic, and the two friends returned to the others. Elrohir gave a shout when Gandalf appeared in his borrowed garments, which were rather too large for him. The tunic nearly reached to his knees, the leggings had been rolled up, and the sleeves dangled so that the wizard's hands were nowhere to be seen.
"Mithrandir, have a care or a Man will mistake you for a scarecrow and try to plant you in his field!" the elfling shouted gleefully.
Gandalf quickly quelled him.
"If you crow so, Master Elrohir, I shall make you a crow. Though you do not fear me now, you will fear me then!"
Elrohir grew very quiet and, trying to make himself less of a target, attempted to shelter behind his brother. Elladan, however, not wishing to be caught up in the spell, scurried away to take refuge behind his father, leaving Elrohir to stare reproachfully after him. In a moment, however, Elrohir had even more reason to reproach Elladan, for he had attracted Elrond's attention, and now the Lord of Imladris gestured for both elflings to stand before him.
"How is it," he said sternly, "that the two of you, and your guest Haldir as well, came to be in these lands?"
"You said we might go camping, hunting, hiking, and swimming," Elrohir answered swiftly. "We haven't gone swimming yet, but we've done everything else. I'm sorry we haven't gone swimming, but we will as soon as an opportunity presents itself."
"You speak," said Elrond, "as if your only offense is to have not gone swimming."
"Well, we did say that we were going swimming," Elladan chimed in. "We wouldn't want you to think that we had told you a lie. If we didn't go swimming, it is only because of lack of opportunity."
"And you certainly wouldn't want to overlook any opportunity," said Elrond sardonically.
"Oh, no, Ada! Of course we wouldn't!" chorused the twins.
"No, I didn't think so. Well, I will think on this matter, and be sure that you will face punishment upon our return to Imladris. It only remains to determine the most appropriate penalty for your misconduct."
The twins exchanged mournful glances. Their father was famous for the appropriateness of his punishments. Steal off to ride horses when you were supposed to be studying in the library, and you would be set to cleaning stables for two turnings of the moon. Go swimming when you were supposed to be polishing armor, and be sure that you would spend a month hauling water for the Laundress. Oh, yes! in the matter of apportioning penalties, Elrond could be quite creative.
Several days would pass, however, before Haldir and the twins would have to face judgment, for their return to Imladris was not a swift one. Anomen had gone on the mend from the moment that Glorfindel had tended to Gandalf's shoulder, yet it was still a full week before Elrond deemed him well enough to bear up under a full day's journey. Camp was broken the day after all the Elves had crossed the border into Rohan, but each day's remove was shorter than it would have normally been had Anomen not been ill. Still, everyone—Man, Elf, and wizard—was glad to put any additional distance, however slight, between themselves and the forces of Mordor.
At length the Elves came to the Gap of Rohan and, bidding their Rohirrim escort farewell, commenced to travel through Dunland, and then Eregion, until at last they arrived at the brink of the dell within which sheltered Imladris. Looking down at the welcoming homes, the elflings were glad that the journey was over but apprehensive as to what they would face when they were called to stand before Elrond. They did not have to wait long for that moment. The very morning after their arrival, they were summoned to the library. There they found not only Elrond but also Gandalf, Glorfindel, and Taurmeldir. All looked grim, although, if the elflings had not been so frightened, they might have noticed the twinkle in Gandalf's eye.
Elrond commenced.
"If you were the children of Men," he proclaimed sternly, "I should beat you, and you would go without supper for many a night. But, for good or for ill, you are not the children of Men. How, then, should I punish you?"
The elflings looked nervously at each other. Then Anomen decided that, as he had been the one to set things in motion, he ought to be the one to speak first.
"I despise gluing the fletching upon arrows," he said bravely. "Therefore, I should glue fletching on a thousand arrows. I would hate every moment of it."
"That sounds just," agreed Elrond.
Elrohir came unexpectedly to Anomen's defense.
"A thousand arrows is too many, for Anomen ran away only out of love for Mithrandir. I, on the other hand, had no good motive for running off. I will fletch five hundred of those arrows."
"I am as much to blame as Elrohir," declared Elladan. "I will fletch half my twin's arrows."
"I will fletch half of Anomen's," proclaimed Haldir.
"And what was your offense, Haldir?" said Elrond.
"I allowed myself to be led by Elladan and Elrohir," admitted Haldir sheepishly. "I should have been more forceful and resisted a plan that I knew to be wrong."
"You have all spoken truly," said Elrond. "Very well. Each of you will be responsible for fletching two-hundred and fifty arrows. I shall tell the Head Armorer to expect you at the armory each day after weapons practice until the task has been finished."
The elflings bowed deeply, and Elrond dismissed them. After they had departed the chamber, he gave a relieved sigh.
"Well," he remarked, "I am glad that the issue of punishment has been dealt with."
"Yes, indeed," said Gandalf. "And very cleverly, I must say."
"Ah, you think I handled the matter well."
"I did not say that. Very noble of Elrohir to offer to take on half of Anomen's punishment, wasn't it?"
"Yes, I thought so," replied Elrond, a little puzzled.
"Of course, if he hadn't spoken up so promptly, he would have had his own set of one thousand arrows to fletch, is that not so?"
"Ye-es," said Elrond slowly, the truth dawning on him. He was torn between pride at his son's cleverness and vexation at having been 'had' by the scamp. 'Not for the first time', he thought to himself ruefully, 'and probably not for the last, neither!'
"As I said," Gandalf reiterated, "the matter was handled very cleverly—but not by you!"
Glorfindel, Gandalf, and Taurmeldir all smiled at the discomfited elf lord, and Taurmeldir seized the opportunity to gibe him a little himself.
"Elrond," he said with an air of innocence, "don't you think you had better order that the Cobbler make Anomen new boots?"
"New boots?"
"Yes, seeing as how his feet have lately grown so large."
Elrond colored at being reminded that he had mistaken the tracks of one of the older elflings for those of Anomen. Hastily he arose.
"You are quite right," he said to Taurmeldir. "Anomen has walked a very great distance. No doubt his boots are quite worn. In fact, I am sure that the boots of all the elflings must be very badly worn, perhaps even to the extent that their tracks would be indistinguishable one from the other! I believe I shall go look up the Cobbler just now and leave orders that sturdy shoes be made for all four of the wanderers."
With that the great Lord of Imladris fled from the chamber. To their credit, his friends waited until he was gone before indulging themselves in a little laughter at his expense. It was not often that Elrond was bested by the members of his household!
Elrond, however, had not shot all the arrows in his quiver. A few days later, he appeared in the Hall of Fire, where Gandalf was serenely contemplating a cheery blaze as several light-hearted Elves sang in a corner. The Elf lord bore in his hands something that resembled a vambrace.
"I have had this made for you," Elrond said to the wizard. "There was," he added wryly, "leather left over after the Cobbler cut the pieces for the elflings' new boots."
Gandalf looked at it quizzically.
"Rather large for a vambrace, wouldn't you say?"
"It would be," replied Elrond, "if it were for a wrist. But it is not. This, my friend, has been designed for your shoulder—and one shoulder in particular."
"The shoulder I have but lately injured, I presume."
"Yes. I think you will agree, Mithrandir, that you should do your utmost to protect that part of your anatomy."
Gandalf did indeed agree that he needed to take prodigious good care of that particular shoulder, and it is not recorded that he ever again injured it—although practically every other part of his body came in for a beating during the time that remained to him in Middle-earth.
Little now remains to be told of this curious incident in the annals of Imladris. For several weeks the elflings got into no mischief because, when not at lessons, they were entirely occupied at fletching arrows. The time for Haldir's return to Lothlórien arrived before he had fletched his share, but he refused to depart until he had completed the task. Elrond obliged him by sending a message to the Lady Galadriel asking that he might be allowed to remain in Imladris a little longer. Given this gesture on Haldir's part, it is not surprising that the twins became considerably better disposed toward him than they had been upon his arrival in Rivendell. Moreover, upon Haldir's return to his homeland, his fellows amongst the Lórien Elves noticed that he was much less of a 'prig' than he had been before he set out on his adventure. His brothers found to their surprise that they actually liked him. At this development, Galadriel, of course, smiled knowingly. No doubt she had expected something of the sort to happen, and probably without even looking in her mirror.
Haldir wasn't the only one whose behavior altered for the better. Erestor never again discouraged Anomen from speaking of his fears for Gandalf. As for the wizard himself, as I have said, he really did do his best to avoid injuring his shoulder ever again. Yet, for all his efforts, he was once again the cause of great pain to his young friend. Legolas, however, never told Gandalf of this, even though the incident took place when the two were both members of the Fellowship of the Ring. Indeed, he never told any member of the Fellowship save one, and he spoke of the matter only after Gandalf had departed for the West and almost all the other members of the Fellowship had passed on. He chose to tell the tale to the one who yet remained, Gimli Elf-friend, with whom Legolas had traveled throughout Middle-earth after the sundering of the Company. It happened one day that Elf and Dwarf were lying upon the greensward gazing up at the stars.
"I always think of Gandalf when I look up at the stars," murmured Gimli.
"Why so?" asked Legolas.
"They twinkle like his eyes."
"I like that," said Legolas said thoughtfully. "Yes, I like that very much. Henceforth, I, too, shall see Gandalf in the stars. Thank you, Gimli, for that gift."
Gimli harrumphed, as if he needed to clear his throat. When he spoke, he put on his gruffest voice.
"Oh, well, that's all right—I don't mind sharing the notion, especially seeing as how you set such a stock by the old wizard. I never did forget your face after we escaped from Moria. I can see it as we speak: streaked with dirt and smoke it was, but your expression, well, I never want to see such grief ever again on the face of anyone, Man, Elf, or Dwarf. You looked as if a piece of you had died when Gandalf fell into that chasm."
Legolas remained silent for a long time, and Gimli feared that his words had aroused memories that had better have been left dormant. But when Legolas spoke, it was still with the same thoughtful tone. He did not sound distraught or sad.
"Truly, Gimli, I did feel as if a piece of me had died. After Gandalf plunged into the chasm of Moria, at first I felt a burning pain in my forearm and then it grew icy cold. Afterward, my arm went numb, and I believed this a sign that Gandalf had passed from Middle-earth. My arm continued to obey my commands, but I wondered if ever again I would feel sensation in it. Several days later, however, warmth and life returned to the limb. I was grateful to have recovered full enjoyment of my arm, but I also felt renewed sadness, for I was sure this was a sign that the last tie between Gandalf and me had been broken."
"Of course," he continued, growing more animated, "now I know that my arm grew warm again because Gandalf was returning to his body and soon would again walk upon the soil of Middle-earth."
Now it was Gimli's turn to look thoughtful, although he said little, only thanking Legolas for telling him the tale. For a little while longer, the two lay upon the greensward gazing up at the twinkling stars. At length, Gimli judged from Legolas' even breathing that the Elf must have fallen asleep.
"Hard to tell sometimes whether he's sleeping or awake," grumbled Gimli, "given that he so often indulges himself in that odd elvish habit of dreaming with his eyes open."
Cautiously the Dwarf sat up. Legolas made no sign.
"I reckon he is asleep," concluded Gimli. The Dwarf pushed up his sleeve and gazed wonderingly at a birthmark upon his own arm—a birthmark that looked remarkably like the one on Legolas' forearm.
"First burning hot, then icy cold, then numb, but in the end warm again," he muttered. "Yes, that is exactly the way it was! How I should like to see the Lady again and ask her what it must mean, that both Legolas and I should unwittingly have shared those sensations. One thing is certain, though: Elf or no Elf, Legolas is more akin to me than not. Well, then, just let any Troll go after him! The wretched creature will find himself shorter by a head—oh yes! my axe will see to that!"
Having made this resolution, the doughty Dwarf crawled into his bedroll and fell unmistakably into sleep. (Unlike Legolas, the Dwarf snored, so there was never any question as to whether or not he was truly unconscious.) As for Legolas, he had of course not really been asleep, but now, listening to Gimli snore, he began to drift into dreams.
"Gandalf snored," he murmured happily to himself. "Gandalf snored."
Taking comfort in the nearness of the last member of the Fellowship who remained to him, the last of the Nine, the Elf fell at last into sleep. Nothing disturbed him for the remainder of that night—save only the distant cry of gulls. And far away, on the other side of the Sundering Sea, Gandalf heard them too.
