Thanks to the following reviewers: Kel, Fluffy's fangirls, Trinilee Greenleaf, Dragonfly, Haldir's Heart and Soul, and Joee.
Isn't anybody going to read Recollections? Sniff.
Beta Reader: Dragonfly
"Hah!" gloated Elrohir when he awoke the next morning. "Anomen didn't sleep in his bed last night. Good! I hope he never again sets foot in this room."
Elladan, who had awoken earlier, was sitting cross-legged on his bed. He held Elrohir's bow, which he examined carefully.
"Elrohir, I think we could contrive to make it look as if this bow had never been broken."
"But I would still never be able to draw it," Elrohir protested.
"True, but were you ever planning to draw it?"
"Well, no, but that's not the point, is it?"
"What is the point, Elrohir?"
"Nana gave it to me. Whenever I see it, it reminds me of her."
"Won't that be true whether it is broken or not? After all, she still gave it to you."
Elrohir suddenly grew angry. "You are standing up for Anomen," he said accusingly.
"I am not standing up for Anomen," Elladan replied calmly. "He shouldn't have touched your bow without asking you first. But what I am talking about now is whether the bow, broken or no, will remind you of Nana."
"I suppose it will," Elrohir admitted.
"Good! Then you can cheer up at least a little bit, can't you?"
"I suppose I might," Elrohir conceded reluctantly. "But I am still angry at Anomen," he added quickly.
"I am not telling you not to be angry at Anomen," Elladan replied. "Although," he said, as if thinking aloud, "when you are angry at Anomen, you are unhappy. I don't like to see you unhappy, but you will be as long as you are angry. So perhaps you ought to stop being angry at Anomen—just for your sake, mind you, or maybe for mine."
"I suppose there is some sense in what you say," Elrohir agreed grudgingly. "My head hurts dreadfully, and I suppose it is because I am angry. And my chest aches, too. I don't like feeling so miserable. And I don't mean to make you miserable."
"There, you see: you mustn't be angry at Anomen because you are making yourself sick and me miserable."
"But, Elladan, how am I to stop being angry? I can't just decide not to be angry."
"I don't see why not, Elrohir. Is there any reason a person can't make up his mind to leave off being angry at someone?"
Elrohir considered this idea. "No-o," he said after awhile. "No, I suppose if a person doesn't want to be angry at someone, well, there is nothing that can force him to be angry."
"Nor nobody. Anomen can't make you be angry at him."
"Certainly not! I'd like to see him try!"
"So we are agreed? Anomen can't make you be angry at him, not if you won't let him."
"Right you are," declared Elrohir stoutly. "Anomen is not going to make me do anything I don't want to!" Suddenly he looked at Elladan in amazement. "I feel much better," he said in a wondering voice.
"Good!" declared Elladan. "For I am getting hungry, and I want my breakfast!"
Elrohir threw a pillow at him.
"What a loving brother you are! Here I thought that you were concerned for my well-being, and I find that you merely wanted something to eat!"
"I never said I was only concerned for your well-being. I don't want to see either of us unhappy—and missing breakfast would greatly sadden me, particularly as the Cook is making it harder and harder to filch food from the Kitchen."
The two arose and dressed and made their way toward the Dining Hall. By the time they reached it, Elrohir was in such a magnanimous mood that he declared his intention of sitting next to Anomen. "And I will speak to him, too," he said grandly. But to his chagrin, Elrohir soon realized that where he sat or whether he spoke to the younger elfling mattered not in the least. As soon as the twins entered the Dining Hall, they saw that Gandalf had arrived unexpectedly during the night. Anomen had somehow gotten wind of it, and now he stood at Gandalf's elbow handing the wizard dishes before the Istar could even open his mouth to request them. In his eagerness to serve the wizard, the elfling quite neglected his own plate until Elrond gently told him to take his seat.
"Anomen," said the elf-lord, "you do not wish our guest to suffer indigestion, as he may if he is so polite as to eat everything that you have offered him. I suggest that you attend to your own breakfast before adding anything further to Mithrandir's."
Anomen retreated to his seat, but he was so excited that he scarcely heard Elrohir bid him good morning. 'His' wizard was back, and he had quite forgotten his difficulties with Elladan and Elrohir.
Not too surprisingly, Elrohir was soon unhappy again. In fact, in short order, he found himself suffering from a very bad case of jealousy. In some ways Elrohir was quite the possessive young Elf. In fact, that somewhat explains his fury at Anomen's having damaged the bow. But his possessiveness extended to people as well as objects. Gandalf had brought Anomen to Rivendell and entrusted him to Elrond, and had Elrohir been a more mature elfling, he would have accepted that Gandalf would have a continuing interest in the foundling. But to Elrohir, Anomen was 'their' foundling. He resented any time that the wizard 'stole', attention that, from the elfling's point of view, should have rightfully been directed toward Elrohir and Elladan. Perhaps, too, Elrohir had an unspoken fear that Gandalf would take Anomen away from Rivendell someday. Elrond had noticed that Elrohir was always edgy whenever Gandalf visited, and this edginess would last until Anomen had settled back into the daily routine and given no sign of absconding to follow the wizard.
Of course, Elrohir did not know that he was jealous. He simply thought that he was indignant at Anomen's 'ingratitude'.
"Imagine," he fumed later to Elladan, "here I was ready to forgive the little wretch. He broke the bow my Naneth gave me, but was I going to hold it against him? No, indeed! I was going to be kind to him and let him back into my good graces. But does he care? No! The little Orc! See if I will ever speak to him now!"
"Elrohir," Elladan replied patiently, "I don't see how you can blame Anomen. Last night he was too afraid of you to sleep in his own bed. So of course he's gone running to Mithrandir at the first opportunity. Treat him nicely tonight, and I am sure you will soon be friends again."
With words such as these, Elladan at length succeeded in calming Elrohir, who increasingly looked forward to the evening, when Anomen presumably would return to the chamber that they shared. Elrohir would never have admitted it, but he was fiercely attached to Anomen. So, you see, his 'possessiveness' was not entirely a bad thing.
Unfortunately for Elrohir, however, Anomen had no intention of sleeping that night in his own bed. Instead, he wheedled his way back into Mithrandir's chamber. As the elfling didn't take up much space, the wizard had no particular objection. Moreover, Anomen neither snored nor kicked. All told, he was not an unpleasant sort of bedfellow. Gandalf had had much worse—there was that Dwarf, now, whose snoring had brought down a band of Orcs upon the sleepers. Besides, Gandalf rarely had an opportunity to inquire minutely into Anomen's doings, but now they would have time to talk abed early in the morning and late at night, when there was no one to disturb them.
Thus it was that, as Elrohir waited hopefully in his room, Anomen curled up next to Gandalf and treated the wizard to a full recitation of his every adventure, not omitting the capture of a single crawfish.
By and by, Elrohir realized that Anomen would not be returning to their chamber that night. Elladan had fallen asleep long ago, and Elrohir lay listening to the silence. Every night, before Anomen fell asleep, and every morning, when he first awoke, he would sing softly to himself. Now the chamber echoed with the absence of that melody. Elrohir pulled his quilt over his head so that he could cry without awakening his twin.
The next morning, though, Elladan knew at once how Elrohir had passed his night.
"What am I to do," Elrohir said mournfully. "I want to be Anomen's friend, but I can't prove that to him if he is never about."
"We have got to contrive to bring him out of Mithrandir's room," Elladan said thoughtfully.
"But how are we to do that?" cried Elrohir.
"He would have to leave if Mithrandir didn't want him there."
"But Mithrandir does want him there."
"He wouldn't if Anomen troubled him in some way."
"But Anomen doesn't trouble him—that's the problem."
Elladan thought very hard for a long time.
"Do you remember," he said at last, "the very last time Ada ever let us sleep in his bed?"
Elrohir blushed.
"Yes," he admitted. "I guess that night I drank too much water before bedtime."
"I guess you did," grinned Elladan. "Do you remember Ada's face when he woke up?"
"I thought he had lost his eyebrows altogether," replied Elrohir, who now broke into a grin himself. "Are you suggesting that we convince Anomen to drink a great deal of water before bedtime?"
Elladan shook his head.
"No. He is older than you were then, and he would probably have the sense to get up and use the chamber pot."
"Then what do you have in mind?" Elrohir asked, puzzled.
"Sometime during the night, you must creep into Mithrandir's chamber. Bear with you a kettle of water—it must be warm, mind you, or Anomen will wake up straight away. Slowly drizzle it into the bed by Anomen's bottom. When Mithrandir wakes up damp and sees the puddle under Anomen, be sure that he will send him packing!"
"What a marvelous idea," exclaimed Elrohir. "And when Anomen returns in disgrace to our chamber, we will be ever so kind to him, and he shall be grateful, and we shall soon be the greatest of friends. I wish it were already nightfall so that we might put this plan into effect!"
At dinner time, Elrond looked hard at Elladan and Elrohir. Why, he wondered, were the twins so excited. He knew that Elrohir had been upset at being 'neglected' by Anomen. What had caused him to now suddenly become so happy? The elf-lord sighed. No doubt he would soon know the cause of the transformation, albeit only in time to address the aftermath of whatever jape the twins were planning.
Much later that night, when all was still in Rivendell, Elrohir and Elladan silently slipped out of their room and crept through the corridors until they stood outside the door to Mithrandir's chamber. They listened carefully.
"They are surely asleep," Elladan whispered after awhile. He eased the door open, and, Elrohir, bearing with him a kettle, slipped in. He carefully crept alongside Anomen's side of the bed. Crouching on the floor, he lifted the kettle and began to drizzle the water onto the bed next to Anomen's bottom. Anomen stirred and murmured a little. Elrohir froze. Anomen sighed, turned over, and seemed to fall back into a deep sleep. As for Gandalf, he made no sign, although Elrohir knew that the wizard no doubt was sleeping with eyes half open. Still, the wizard lay with his back to Elrohir, so, as soon as the elfling was sure that Anomen would not awake, he resumed slowly wetting the sheets beneath Anomen. When he was finished, he crept away again, being sure to bear away the kettle with him. When he rejoined Elladan, the two hurried back to their room, where they spent the rest of the night congratulating themselves.
Meanwhile, the water had soaked through Anomen's nightshirt and was spreading onto Gandalf's side of the bed. It had grown cool by the time the dampness touched the skin of the wizard, and since, unlike Anomen, he had not slowly become accustomed to its feel, he awoke at once. He sat up and with a wave of his hand lit a candle.
"What's this?" he cried in dismay. "Has the Bruinen overflowed its banks?"
Now Anomen sat up. To his horror, he realized that his side of the bed was wetter than Gandalf's and that the puddle seemed to be centered under his bottom. He looked shamefacedly at the wizard.
"I am sorry, Mithrandir," he said miserably. "I had better go sleep in my own chamber."
The elfling looked so sad that Gandalf at once forgot his discomfort.
"That's alright, my lad," he said kindly. "I have been drenched in fouler liquids, I assure you! Here now, you just slip out of that nightshirt and into my tunic. As for myself, I can sleep in my robe—I've done it often enough!"
The two removed their nightdresses and changed, and then Gandalf gathered up the wet sheets, eased open the door, and looked up and down the corridor. Seeing no one about, he stole toward the Laundry. "Odd," he muttered as he made his stealthy way toward his destination. "One would expect these sheets to have a more pungent smell. Hmm, I wonder…."
He reached the Laundry, stuffed the sheets into a basket of dirty linen, and helped himself to a fresh set. Then he stole back toward his chamber. After he let himself in, he took the precaution of bolting the door after him, for he still thought something was not quite right. Then, with Anomen's help, the bed was quickly made up again, and elfling and wizard once again settled themselves under the quilt, taking care to sleep with heads at the footboard so as to keep the damp portion of the mattress as far away from them as possible.
The next morning, Gandalf did not go to breakfast straightway. "You go on ahead," he said to Anomen. "I have something to do. I will catch up with you shortly."
After Anomen had left the chamber, Gandalf made his way to Elladan and Elrohir's room. The door was ajar. He peered in and saw that no one was about. Quickly he slipped inside. Upon a table sat an ewer of water. He pointed his staff at it and murmured some words. Then he hastened to rejoin Anomen in the Dining Hall.
When Anomen entered the Dining Hall without Mithrandir, Elladan and Elrohir exchanged delighted glances. They were a little puzzled, however, as to why Anomen looked so happy. They soon understood the reason when Gandalf arrived and took his place beside Anomen. The wizard was a cheerful as the elfling, and there seemed to be no change in the way one addressed the other. In some unexpected fashion, Elladan and Elrohir's plan had failed.
At the conclusion of breakfast, Anomen, chattering gaily, followed Mithrandir from the room. The downcast and baffled twins, meanwhile, dragged themselves off to the archery fields. There, between practice shots, they discussed the situation.
"Do you suppose Mithrandir failed to notice the dampness?" Elladan said.
"I don't see how that is possible," replied Elrohir. "I poured an entire kettle onto the mattress, and you know that dampness will spread until it covers a wide area."
"Mithrandir is used to sleeping rough," mused Elladan. "Perhaps he noticed the dampness, but it did not trouble him."
"That must be it," agreed Elrohir. "We shall have to hit upon another device—something whose results will be more disgusting. I think," he continued, "that we must get Anomen to eat something that will make him sick to his stomach. The mess that follows would surely be more than Mithrandir could bear."
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Elladan. "We shouldn't give Anomen anything that would make him sick. What if he should eat too much of it and became gravely ill."
"You're right," conceded Elrohir. "I don't wish to do anything that might truly harm Anomen. We shall have to think of something else."
This conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Glorfindel, who had come to check on their progress. Unfortunately, as the twins had been distracted, they really hadn't made much progress to speak of; the balrog slayer therefore proceeded to 'ride herd' on them for the remainder of the day. Thus they had no chance to plot further until bedtime. But then something occurred to further distract them.
When they arrived at their chamber, they changed into nightdresses and sat cross-legged on Elrohir's bed to plot their next move. The table with the ewer was right next to this bed, and first Elrohir and then Elladan poured himself a little water, for their throats became dry with talking. After taking a few sips, each realized that he was really quite thirsty. Elrohir gulped the rest of his water and refilled his mug to the very brim. "Leave some for me," protested Elladan. "I'm thirsty, too."
Between the two of them, they soon polished off the entire jug of water. Then they found themselves to be quite tired.
"Let us talk more in the morning," yawned Elrohir. "I am weary past speech."
The two lay down, each in his own bed, and soon both were deep in dreams that, when they compared notes later, were remarkably similar. Elladan dreamed that he was soaking in a tub of warm water. As for Elrohir, he thought himself to be paddling about in the soothing waters of a hot spring that he had once visited whilst on a journey to Lothlórien. Then, as dreams do, the scenes suddenly shifted. Elladan found himself in the icy waters of the Bruinen, and to Elrohir it seemed as if he were suddenly swimming in melt water from a glacier. Both awoke simultaneously to find themselves damp and shivering. And this time there was no doubt about it: the sheets were pungent.
"Elrohir," said Elladan miserably, "don't you think it rather odd that this should have happened after what we did the night before? You don't suppose it could be a coincidence, do you?"
"With a wizard in the Hall? I think not!"
"I rather suspect it was the water in that ewer."
"Yes," agreed Elrohir mournfully. "I am sure you are right."
"We had better get rid of these sheets, or we shall hear it from the maid."
"I could bear that," replied Elrohir, "but, worse, she is going to tell the tale to each and every one of her friends—she could talk the ear off a Perian, that one."
Like Gandalf the night before, the elflings gathered up the sheets and slipped out the door, hoping to reach the Laundry unobserved. Ai! Elrond was still suspicious of his sons. Finding himself awake and restless, he had decided to pass the night in patrolling the corridors. The Head Laundress had told him that someone had paid a surreptitious visit to the Laundry just the previous night, and as the twins left their chamber, it just so happens that Elrond was directing his steps toward the Laundry wing. Coming from separate directions, elflings and elf-lord stepped into the vestibule of the Laundry at one and the same time. And, as Elrohir was to say later, Elrond 'lost his eyebrows again' at the sight—and smell—of the damp sheets.
"Well," he said as he fought for control of his facial hair, "I know that you are twins and tend to do everything alike, but, really, must you both burden the laundresses with extra washing, and on the selfsame evening?"
"Um, we each drank a great quantity of water before going to bed," Elladan said lamely.
"There is of course a jug of water in your chamber lest you become thirsty. There is also, however, a chamber pot. If you repair to one, it is expected that you will repair to the other."
"Yes, Ada," both twins said meekly.
"I wonder," continued Elrond, "if you ought to visit your grandparents in Lothlórien, as I had been intending. I should not like Celeborn and Galadriel to think—"
"It won't happen again!" Elrohir interrupted frantically. "Truly, it won't!"
"I hope not. Perhaps," mused Elrond, "I could ask Mithrandir to prepare some potion or powder that would guard against any further incidents."
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged alarmed glances. They could only imagine what Gandalf would concoct if given such an opportunity.
"Ada," Elladan said solemnly, "I think it would represent more of an accomplishment if Elrohir and I solved this problem on our own."
Elrond considered for a moment. "Yes," he said at last. "You are right. You won't always have a wizard around to address this sort of thing. Very well. See to the matter on your own."
Elladan and Elrohir humbly thanked their father, stuffed the dirty linen into a basket, and returned to their room with clean sheets.
"That was a near escape!" exclaimed Elladan as he settled himself at the dry end of his mattress. "We had better never again tamper with Mithrandir's bedding!"
"True. We shall have to find some other way of prying Anomen away from him."
"Elrohir," cried Elladan, aghast. "Surely you don't intend to try again! I think we should simply wait until Mithrandir departs Rivendell. After all, he never stays long. And when he is gone, Anomen surely will return to our chamber."
Elrohir, however, was becoming more and more fearful of losing the younger elfling. Long and fruitlessly Elladan argued. Elrohir would not give way. At last Elladan grudgingly agreed to help his twin, but he was dreadfully fearful of what Gandalf would do next. "I hope Elrohir and I are not soon both in nappies," he muttered to himself as at long last he fell into a fitful sleep populated by cloth triangles that pursued him as doggedly as any Warg.