Thanks to the following reviewers: Haldir's Heart and Soul, Dragonfly, Silverstreak Wolf, and Joee.
Beta Reader: Dragonfly is on vacation, so no one betaed this chapter. Good luck, Joee, as usual!
The next morning Elladan and Elrohir presented themselves at the breakfast table as soon as the older Elves had taken their seats.
"Ada," said Elrohir, "since we went fishing yesterday, we did not spend any time practicing our archery. May we spend the entire day making up for that?"
"If Glorfindel would have no objection to your hanging about the training field the livelong day."
Glorfindel cast a suspicious eye at the twins, but, in the past having grumbled that they did not spend enough time practicing, he could think of no reason to deny them now.
Elrond turned to Anomen.
"And you, Anomen, since Mithrandir's arrival, you have spent very little time at your archery. I expect you will want to spend the day at the training field as well."
Anomen opened his mouth to say that he would not, but Elrond looked at him so sternly that he found himself meekly saying, "Yes, Ada."
When the elflings arrived at the training field, Elladan and Elrohir positioned themselves as far away from Glorfindel as possible, so that they were very nearly in the woods. Anomen, however, desirous of securing his safety, placed himself near the balrog-slayer. From time to time he cast an anxious eye in the direction of the twins. It was easy to espy them against the backdrop of the trees, for Elrohir was wearing a bright red tunic and Elladan an equally bright blue one.
By and by when Anomen glanced over at the twins, he saw only Elladan. Apparently Elrohir had stepped into the woods. As Anomen watched, Elladan, too strolled into the woods. Anomen returned to his shooting. When he looked over toward the woods again, he saw that Elrohir had reappeared, his bright red tunic shining in the sun. After awhile, Elrohir vanished back into the forest, and Elladan came out in his blue tunic.
So it went the entire day. Either Elrohir was visible in his red tunic or Elladan in his blue one, but they never seemed to be in the same place at the same time. At the noon meal, Elladan arrived promptly, ate hastily, and left early, and Elrohir rushed in late, as everyone else was departing, his head hanging as he muttered his apologies for his tardiness. He sat alone at the table, scavenging whatever was left of a very fine meal. The twins repeated the performance at the evening meal, and Elrond grew a little nettled—but not too nettled, as Elrohir was so obviously downcast, his head once again hanging so that his face could not be seen, his words muttered so apologetically as to be indistinct.
That evening, Anomen was getting ready for bed in the room that he and Gandalf now shared as a matter of course. Suddenly Anomen heard excited calls and quick footsteps. A servant knocked upon the door.
"I have come to fetch Master Mithrandir's bag."
"What has happened?"
"The scouts have found the creature's tracks, leading east, toward the Misty Mountains. Master Mithrandir departs upon the instant."
The servant strode to the wardrobe, seized Mithrandir's bag, and hastened away. Amazed, Anomen hurried after him. A knot of folk stood before the Hall bidding farewell to the wizard, who spared half a minute to tousle Anomen's hair.
"You shall want to go back to your old room now, Anomen, else you'll find yourself lonely. Stay well!"
With that the Istar turned and strode off rapidly. The knot of Elves disbanded, and Anomen, disconsolate, wandered into the garden. How was this possible? He caught a flash of red and saw an elfling disappearing behind the statue of Gil-galad. He sprang after the fugitive.
"Elladan!" he shouted as he rounded the statue.
Elladan stopped, startled.
"Good e'en to you, Anomen," he said carefully.
"Don't you 'good e'en' me! Where is Elrohir?"
"Hereabouts," replied Elladan, waving vaguely.
"Oh no he's not! He hasn't been 'hereabouts' since early this morning."
"How do you mean?" asked Elladan nervously.
"I mean, you are wearing a red tunic!"
Elladan looked down at the tunic, and his face turned a color that matched the garment nicely.
"Fess up, Elladan! Why have you been switching in and out of Elrohir's tunic? What have you and he done?"
"Elrohir has laid down a trail for Mithrandir to follow, that's all. That's not so dreadful a thing to have done," Elladan added defensively, "for you and I both know that he'll be wasting his time hanging about here."
"Dreadful or not, it was a stupid thing to have done," exclaimed Anomen. "What if Mithrandir should catch up with Elrohir?"
Elladan looked uncomfortable. "I suppose that would be very bad," he conceded.
"Bad? It would be worse than bad! Mithrandir will turn him into something awful. He will turn him into a, a, a—Dwarf!"
Elladan was horrified.
"Do you suppose Mithrandir will at least leave Elrohir his pointed ears?" he asked piteously.
"It won't matter if he does," retorted Anomen, "for his ears will be too hairy to be seen!"
Elladan began to weep.
"What shall we do? What shall we do?" he cried, his elven eyes turning as red as an Orc's.
"Let us hasten after Mithrandir straightaway," advised Anomen. "If there are three of us to deal with, perhaps he'll only make each of us a trifle hairy and a little shorter. We can hope so, at least."
"And if not?" said Elladan.
"Well, then," replied Anomen stoutly, "at least we shall each of us suffer alike."
"All for one and one for all?"
"Exactly!"
Whatever grudge Elladan may have harbored against Anomen on Elrohir's behalf, he must have abandoned it immediately at Anomen's willingness to help protect his twin from Gandalf's wrath. Eagerly he nodded his head, and the two elflings stole from the garden. Elladan led Anomen straightaway to the point at which Elrohir had begun to lay down his trail. There Anomen could see the tracks of a creature that clearly moved on all fours like a quadruped but that equally clearly possessed both hands and feet. There, too, were to be seen the marks of Gandalf's boots. From the length of the stride, Anomen and Elladan could tell that the Istar was moving quickly. "Hurry" cried Elladan, and the two broke into a run.
They would have run even faster had they realized how likely it was that Gandalf would indeed catch up with Elrohir. The young Elf had been discovering that a person accustomed to going about on two limbs cannot move very quickly on four.
"Double the number of limbs, but half the pace," he grumbled as he briefly stopped to rest, leaning his aching back against a tree and rubbing his shoulders. After a few minutes, he sighed and resumed his painful progress. 'I cannot stop', he said to himself, 'until I have reached a rocky patch to the east where Mithrandir would not be surprised at losing the trail. Until then I must leave tracks plain to see'.
Tracks plain to see did stretch in the elfling's wake—but Gandalf was not the only one to be following them. A few miles back, a creature sat on its haunches and intently studied the trail. Clad only in a loin cloth, it was a smallish, scrawny creature, no larger than a Perian, with scanty hair and bad teeth.
"What's this, Preciousssss?" it hissed. "What's thissssss? Walkses like ussss, it doesss."
In all his long years, Gollum had never come across another like himself. Yet here was a trail left by someone who scrambled about on hands and feet. Eagerly he began to follow the tracks.
"Maybe it likes usss, Preciousssss. Maybe it doesss. A friend, yessss, maybe it beess a friend."
Motivated by this thought, Gollum scrambled after the trail at great speed.
"A friend, yessss, a friend! Like ussss, it isssss, and likes us it doessss."
As Gollum scuttled along, another thought occurred to him.
"Issss it a he, or issss it a she, that's what we wants to know, Precioussssss. A he would be nice, but a she would be nicelier."
Gollum scrambled even faster. "A she Gollumses," he chortled, "a she Gollumses!"
Suddenly yet another thought occurred to him.
"A he Gollumses and a she Gollumses—that would mean some wee Gollumses!"
By now Gollum was well nigh galloping across the terrain, so excited was he at the thought of catching up with his presumed counterpart.
At about this time, Gandalf was standing thunderstruck staring down at a pair of tracks. "No," he cried. "It is not possible! There could not be two such creatures in all of Middle-earth."
The wizard bent down and examined the tracks closely. Yes, one set was slightly smaller than the other. There could be no doubt. Gollum was not alone. Gandalf considered what this might mean.
"In most species, the female is somewhat smaller than the male. Could it be that this is a breeding pair? But that would be dreadful! It is bad enough that one or even two such creatures haunts Arda, but three or four or more? No! That would be dreadful!"
Now it was Gandalf who was well-nigh galloping, his cloak billowing behind him as he pursued what he assumed were two of the same sort of creature. As he ran, he rehearsed in his mind snatches of spells for the countering of fertility. Some would prevent a creature from ever conceiving in the first place; others would prevent a pregnancy from being carried to term. Gandalf rarely had occasion to use either sort of spell, for he moved amongst peoples who welcomed the arrival of each infant. The Elves, in particular, cherished each young one, for the birth of a laes was a rare event. So as Gandalf ran, he was very much afraid that he would not be able to make sense of the fragments of spells that he was dredging up from his memory.
"No! no! That's not right," he muttered to himself. "That's for preventing the insertion of a key into a lock. May do nicely as a metaphor, but will have no practical effect. That one? Oh, bother! That has to do with stopping the fermentation of beer at just the right moment. A bit of Dwarvish magic I've never had occasion to use. It is very like one of the spells I am searching for, however."
And on he went, his mind running as fast as his legs. Gollum, meanwhile, had at last caught up with his 'better half'. From the cover of a bush, he watched Elrohir crawling his way across a clearing, his bottom waggling in the air. 'Is it a she Gollumses or a he Gollumses?' the creature asked himself anxiously. As Elrohir was fully clad save for his bare feet, it was difficult to tell. It is true, of course, that Elrohir wore leggings, not a usual garment for an elleth. Still, Gollum may be forgiven for being uncertain on the subject of Elrohir's gender. Young Elves, it must be confessed, are in appearance a bit on the androgynous side. (Some say that adult Elves are as well, but that is orcish nonsense.) The waggling bottom seemed promising, however, and Gollum began his stealthy approach. He had very nearly reached Elrohir before the elfling sensed that he was being followed. He spun about and fell upon his bottom in surprise. Leering at him was a creature no larger than a Perian, scrawny, with scanty hair and bad teeth, and dressed only in a loin cloth. The creature gave its best imitation of a smile.
"Give ussss a kisss, love," it chortled.
Elrohir let out a shriek that, high pitched as it was, convinced Gollum that he had indeed discovered his counterpart. He leaped upon Elrohir, who responded by kicking the creature. Barefoot though he was, Elrohir's foot connected with a particularly sensitive portion of Gollum's anatomy, and Gollum let out a shriek that was only a little less high-pitched than Elrohir's.
Nearby, Gandalf heard the twin shrieks and, although it hardly seemed possible, he began to run even faster than before. He burst into the clearing and saw Elrohir and Gollum rolling about in the dirt. Fortunately for Elrohir, Gandalf's amazement at this turn of events did not deprive him of the ability to act. He raised his staff and pointed it at the wrestling couple, looking for the opportunity to smite Gollum without harming Elrohir.
At about this time, Gollum had gotten a good enough grip on Elrohir to discover that the elfling lacked all she-Gollum bits. In his disappointment, the creature drew back a bit. CRACK! A bolt of light shot from Gandalf's staff. Yelping, Gollum leaped several feet into the air. When he landed, he scuttled from the clearing as if pursued by wargs. Gandalf briefly thought of following him, but then thought that he had better see to Elrohir. He strode toward the elfling, who lay panting upon the ground.
Seeing the wizard advancing upon him, Elrohir decided to throw himself upon Gandalf's mercy—literally, of course. He flung himself forward, landing on his knees before the wizard and clasping him about the legs.
"Mi-mi-mi-thwunder," he stuttered and sobbed. "Puh-puh-puhleeeeeese don't turn me into something dreadfully awful."
"No?" retorted Gandalf. "Shall I turn you into something merely awful rather than dreadfully so?"
In response, Elrohir began to keen like a wraith. By now, Elladan and Anomen had drawn near, and hearing their brother's cries, they began to scramble madly through the brush. Breaking past the last branches, they launched themselves at the wizard, landing flat on their bellies at his feet and frantically scrabbling for a grip on him.
Gandalf gazed down in astonishment. He had one wailing elfling attached to his legs and two others clinging to his ankles. He raised his voice and bellowed.
"Here now! If you don't unhand me at once I shall turn you into something dreadfully appropriate—burrs, I should think!"
The elflings at once threw themselves backwards, away from the wizard, and landed in a tangled heap, arms and legs flailing. Gandalf was momentarily put in mind of an upended insect waving its legs in the air and briefly toyed with the thought of transforming the combined younglings into such a beast. The idea was only a passing fancy, however. For now he merely wanted to stop their mouths.
"Silence," he thundered, "or I shall render each of you as mute as a newt!"
This threat had the desired effect, and three quaking but quiet younglings peered out at the wizard from the heap of limbs, their eyes big as an owlet's. This put Gandalf in mind of another spell, but, as before, he suppressed the urge to indulge himself.
"On your feet," he growled. "If you can find them!" he added.
After struggling for several minutes, Elladan managed to detach himself from the knot of bodies, and Elrohir and Anomen soon followed.
"You," Gandalf harrumphed at Elrohir, "fetch the camp kettle from my pack and find a stream. You," he said, turning to Elladan, "gather sticks. And you"—this last to Anomen—"collect stones for a fire ring."
Relieved to be given tasks that would delay the moment of reckoning, the elflings hastened to do as they were bidden. Meanwhile, Gandalf sat himself down, resting his back against the trunk of a tree, and considered what to do. Now that the elflings had subsided into silence, he actually found the situation rather amusing. Of course, he was disappointed that he hadn't captured Gollum, but he knew that he would never even have drawn near the creature if it hadn't been for Elrohir. For he now perceived that the tracks that led away from Rivendell must have been the elfling's.
'They must be punished', he said to himself, 'but I needn't do it straightaway. Besides', he added, 'as soon as they have been punished, they will begin to recover themselves. And it would not be good if they thus quickly regained their spirits, for Anomen may seek to reattach himself to me, and that wouldn't do at all'. For Gandalf at last understood what needed to be set right! 'No', he concluded, 'better to leave them in suspense so that they will be driven to huddle together like newborn kittens, each comforting the other'.
And so, maintaining a grim façade, Gandalf doled out bread and cheese and tea to the younglings, who in their anxiety that night did indeed huddle together like little newborn animals.