Wyze Lies

by Erestor

Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to The Lord of the Rings. This story was written for entertainment purposes only.

Thank you for reviewing! I really appreciate everything you have to say about this fic.

Glorfindel.

When I came to Minas Tirith to promote the book I had written in Imladris, I was quick to locate Erestor.

I was not so quick to corner him. I bided my time. I did not have to appear on Erestor's doorstep immediately. If I waited, I could allow his suspense to increase. I could strike at the perfect moment, when my presence would make the greatest impact upon him and his morale.

When I went on a walk that particular afternoon, I realized my patience had paid off magnificently. In fact, I could not believe my luck. How often did Erestor feel the need to climb a tree in such a public place? He was cornered, helpless, uncomfortable, worried... it was wonderful.

After a brief chat with him, followed by an impressive demonstration of my landing capabilities, I was very pleased with myself. I had, at the very least, increased Erestor's sense of foreboding somewhat, judging by the way he had gone pale underneath his annoying tan.

Thanks to Erestor, I have discovered that as much as I enjoy being lovable and endearing, I also enjoy intimidating people. I fail to see the point of causing everyone to think I am harmless, when I can derive so much pleasure from letting a select few see that I am dangerous. I have so much fun watching them vainly attempt to persuade others that I am evil.

Having leaped from the tree, I met Legolas underneath it. His clothes were torn to pieces, his hair was a mess, and a large bruise already darkened his eye. This, I thought in amusement, would surely lead to rumors that he had been waylaid and clobbered by some of the Gondorian Elf-haters, when nearly the opposite was true.

I gave him a perfunctory bow, before looking him up and down critically. "Too much love will kill you, Legolas," I told him. "I wonder that you dare come out in public."

"I'll be more careful next time," said Legolas miserably, slumping against the tree.

"Be careful now," I said. "If you shake that tree too hard, Elves might start falling out of it, and, with your luck, they'd probably all land on your head."

"Oh," said Legolas. "Is Erestor up there?"

"I believe so," I said, "though he may have flown away since I last saw him."

Legolas looked. "No, he's still there. Doesn't look happy."

"He rarely does."

"He is happy when you are not present, Lord Glorfindel."

While Legolas's statement was no doubt true, I did not bother to respond to it. "He was attacked by your Dwarven friend," I said.

"Erestor's books about the Wyze upset Gimli. He feels that he must defend Galadriel's honor. I tried to dissuade him, but" –Legolas sighed– "it did not work. I did not realize that Gimli would attempt to kill Erestor in such a public place."

I sighed as well. Gimli had scared Erestor far more than I ever had. If Erestor had seen me coming down the street, would he have scrambled up a tree? I doubt it. He would have tried to look brave. Not that I would have been fooled by such a facade, but I do miss the days when he flinched at the sight of me.

Of course, I have never chased Erestor with an axe.

"Legolas," I said thoughtfully.

"Yes?"

"The Wyze do not expect much from woodland Elves," I said, "but we do expect some cooperation on your part. We expect you to support us to the best of your ability. Instead, you have been willfully undermining many of our efforts."

"Yes," said Legolas softly. "Yes, I have."

I glanced around. My supporters were gathered close –far too close– and listening to our conversation intently. At my look, they backed away a few paces. I did not want Legolas to think I relied on my minions to be intimidating.

"I am sure Erestor has told you that I do not make threats idly," I said.

"He told me you attacked him with a pillow," said Legolas, smiling slightly. He knew he was surrounded, but did not seem worried. He was probably used to be surrounded.

"Erestor is a scholar," I said. "You are a warrior."

Legolas arched his eyebrows. "That does make a difference, doesn't it?" he said. "I think you'll find me harder to subdue, should I make trouble." He smiled again. "Not that Erestor has been easily subdued, or, in fact, subdued at all."

"Not yet," I said. "I'm allowing him a few more days of happiness, before he is crushed forever."

"How kind you are."

"You don't want to be crushed as well, do you?" I asked, employing my most persuasive tone of voice. "In a week, my book will be published. In a week, King Elessar will become one of the Wyze. In a week, the span of Erestor's life will depend greatly on how gracefully he can publically recant every one of his theories."

There was a glimmer of doubt in Legolas's eyes, but his expression did not change. He shrugged. "Do not think you can frighten me," he said. "I have faced far greater odds."

"Those were clear, obvious odds," I said. "Yes, you and your friends triumphed against Sauron, but how do you plan on triumphing over your friends? What will you do with King Elessar as your enemy?"

"Lord Glorfindel," said Legolas, "I told Erestor there is no such thing as Balrogs."

"I know."

"I will defend that statement, no matter who attacks it. Aragorn and I are friends, but I will not compromise the truth for him, or out of fear of him."

"The truth?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

"The truth," said Legolas firmly.

"Well said, Legolas." I grinned at him, a quick, friendly grin that took him completely by surprise. "It must pain you to watch your good friend go over to the side of the enemy, but you must always have known such a step was inevitable. Raised in Rivendell, Aragorn was surrounded by the Wyze for many of the formative years of his life. He supports us wholeheartedly. For us, he will compromise anything."

Legolas looked me for a moment, and I could not tell what he was thinking. At last he said, "You are dangerous, Lord Glorfindel, but you are not invulnerable. Erestor may be a scholar, but he is dangerous too, and I will do everything in my power to aid him."

"Good," I said. "I find challenges invigorating."

Legolas, somehow imposing even with a black eye, managed with a look to make my supporters back away from him.

I watched as Legolas walked briskly down the street, Gimli scuttling behind him.

I had felt worried for some time. Watching Legolas recede into the distance, I merely felt sick. I had a terrible, miserable feeling that my control was weakening, that my power was slipping through my fingers, that the lies and threats and commands I had woven together were unraveling rapidly. Erestor had many friends, though he did not seem to realize it. I had supporters, but I knew better than to believe they would stay with me if I were ever in trouble. They would run. If they remained, it would only be to laugh at my misfortune.

Repressing the urge to shout infantile insults after Legolas's retreating form, I smiled at my merry band and announced, "I am sorry, but I must leave you all for a time."

They looked sad. It's nice to be missed.

I walked to King Elessar's house, which is a very large palace in the center of Minas Tirith. It is the paragon of sophistication, and I want it. Rivendell is really quite rustic in comparison.

The guards at the palace know me well, and let me through. Since I had come to the capital city of Gondor, I had been spending several hours with Aragorn each day, explaining everything about the Wyze he needed to know. I was a familiar face there.

Aragorn greeted me warmly. Each day he grew more excited about joining the Wyze. The benefits of such a step are great. King Elessar's union with our group would strengthen his rule, and ours. I told him this again and again.

After a fascinating discussion of several important issues, I sat back and drank ginger tea, and Aragorn poured over the contents of my briefcase. I had brought him some documents to examine, and he did so with great concentration.

Eventually he resurfaced to ask, "Who is the leader of the Wyze?"

I chuckled. "Anyone can be a leader of the Wyze, Aragorn. The majority rules. The most powerful individual can control the others, more or less. It makes everything much more exciting."

"Who is the most powerful?"

"At the moment, I am," I said. "But Celeborn and Galadriel grow stronger each day. People tend to overlook Celeborn while waiting for Galadriel to do something dramatic, but both work together. They have different strengths, and united they are more powerful than most of us. They are well aware of this."

"What about Gandalf?"

"He works from Valinor these days, and has been slipping a bit," I explained. "He is distracted with other matters." Flirting with Nienna, for one thing.

"Lord Elrond?"

"Has never been very powerful." Lord Elrond was my pet peeve. He never took a strong stance on any issue. I had tried to get him to support me, but he did not seem to grasp the importance of doing so. If we had made any real alliance, my power would have been secure for centuries. As it was, I had to scramble to stay on top.

"And my wife?" asked Aragorn. He laid down the papers and looked at me seriously.

"Lady Arwen –Queen Arwen, I mean– is an interesting case," I said. "She has always been career oriented, and the thought of joining the Wyze did not seem to fill her with much excitement. She eventually agreed to become one of us, but asked that her membership remain a secret. She didn't want it to interfere in her work, since some people are wary of hiring members of the Wyze."

Aragorn nodded.

"So we kept her membership a secret. Few people know she is one of us. Fortunately, we were able to use her reluctance to aid our cause. She works as a double agent of sorts, gathering information no one would dare tell one of the Wyze."

"Clever," murmured Aragorn. "Still, she is not very powerful?"

"She could be powerful if she bothered," I said, and shrugged. "Some people think of the Wyze as a society club, and others think of it as their life's work. Arwen is one of the former, I fear."

Aragorn smiled, reassured. "That explains why she never objected to my joining."

I kept the confidential information to myself. Arwen was more powerful than I let on. Yes, her business was important to her, but her spy work had been invaluable to us. She had agreed to keep an eye on her husband for me. I wasn't about to tell him that.

"What about Elladan and Elrohir?" asked Aragorn.

"Your brothers-in-law?" I asked. "They decided the Wyze are 'evil' and denounced us publically years ago. We watch them, but they haven't tried to sabotage our work." Elladan and Elrohir were perhaps the only two Elves who worried me. I respected them, but I never knew what they would do next.

"Frodo?"

"Honorary member. He doesn't know anything. We gave him a medal, sent him to Valinor, and let him get on with his life."

"King Thranduil?"

I snorted. "He isn't one of the Wyze, and he doesn't want to be. He'd love to see us all die horribly. I believe his son feels the same way."

"Saruman?"

"After he tried to take over Middle-earth, we took him off the membership list."

"How did you do that?"

"We voted."

"I see," said Aragorn. "Tom Bombadil?"

"He and his wife come around now and then, cut a few ribbons, make a few speeches, throw a few lilies about." Sing a few epic ballads. Drive a few people crazy. "They are part of the Wyze, but since they tend to be almost completely clueless, we don't really worry about them."

"I see," said Aragorn again, shuffling papers.

"I think you have a pressing question," I said, sipping my tea.

I was right, of course. Aragorn scratched his head, and asked, "What is the Wyze's policy about Erestor?"

"We have different policies," I said. "Most are willing to sit back and let him do his worst. I, however, have dedicated myself to the pursuit of him. We can't trust that Elf. He's doing everything in his power to hurt us."

"What do you want me to do about him?" asked Aragorn. "He has been living in Minas Tirith for some time."

I nodded. "When you become Wyze, that will change, won't it?"

"I suppose so," said Aragorn.

I had been hoping for some more fervor and commitment on his part. I leaned forward. "Aragorn, Erestor may seem like an insignificant annoyance, but he's dangerous. If we let him get away with these little things, he'll soon be trying to overthrow the government."

"The government?"

"Yours, Elrond's, Éomer's, Celeborn's. Any government he can sink his teeth into."

Aragorn began to look a little worried, as well he should.

"You need to help me," I said. "Together, we can remove this threat."

"Yes," said Aragorn.

I left the palace with a spring in my step. Aragorn was on my side. Erestor was doomed. My book was sure to be a best-seller. Could things be any better?

"Glorfindel," said two voices together, and I turned around, my high spirits plunging.

"Hello, Elladan, Elrohir," I said, giving them both a nod.

"Done corrupting our little brother?" asked Elrohir.

"Not yet," I said.

With Aragorn becoming one of the Wyze, Elladan and Elrohir's dislike of me had obviously increased. The brothers glared at me, but I did not lose my head.

"Would you like to eat dinner with me?" I asked mildly.

Elrohir looked as though he were about to say 'never!' and storm off, but Elladan said, "We would love to eat with you, Glorfindel," and smiled widely.

Ten minutes later, we sat in a very elegant restaurant, perusing menus. Gondorians are very fond of salad. It's a result of the Elvish influence, I think. Fortunately, I am very fond of salad as well, so I ordered some.

We sat eating our salads, and not really talking about anything. Eventually Elladan asked, "How did you persuade Estel to come over to your side?"

"Yes, we're very curious," said Elrohir, picking all the croutons out of the foliage on his plate.

"He saw the light," I said, "when I sent him an invitation. He realizes his rule would be much stronger if he had powerful allies."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, resigned.

"Glorfindel," said Elladan, "we've seen advertisements for your book."

"And?"

"We can't help wondering if it will reveal things you want to keep secret."

"Such as?"

"Well, you act like such a cheerful, superficial Elf in public. Writing a book specifically attacking a hapless conspiracy theorist might ruin your image. I mean, you're supposed to be nice."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"You're also supposed to be clueless when it comes to politics," observed Elrohir.

It was a legitimate argument. I had already considered the problem. "It's time people see another side of me," I said.

"They might not like what they see."

"They'll forgive me. The public loves me."

Elladan and Elrohir knew this was true. They sighed in unison. Then they excused themselves, left the restaurant, and stranded me with the bill. I had been expecting as much. I paid the bill. Gondorian salad is surprisingly expensive. Must have been made of specially imported lettuce or something.

I walked home. It was a beautiful evening, cold and clear. I felt very much at peace with myself. I was pleased with my stratagems. I was clever. I was popular. I was prepared for anything.

Looking back, I can honestly say I was quite clever. I handled my problems with skill and panache. However, I have since realized I was not as popular as I thought, nor, sadly, was I prepared for anything.

We're told to expect the unexpected, but if we did, we would be such miserable, jittery, paranoid people that our lives wouldn't be worth living. A few surprises generally aren't a bad thing.

Still, I resent the fact that following events took me so off guard.

TBC...