17: Final Exam

Glorfindel drove over to the clinic the next morning to pick up Zach who was sitting in the waiting room, clutching the potted Christmas tree in one hand and the stuffed reindeer toy in the other, the overnight bag Glorfindel had brought him the day before sitting at his feet.

“I was tempted to eat the chocolate Santa last night,” Zach said when Glorfindel asked him about it, not seeing it, “but decided the last thing I needed was to spend another night in the clinic with a stomachache, so I have it in my bag. I’ll probably share it out with everyone else. It’s really too big to eat by myself.”

“How do you feel otherwise?” Glorfindel asked as he took the potted tree and bag and headed for the van.

“Fine,” Zach said. “There’s hardly any pain and ibuprofen takes care of that.”

“Do you still want to go to the post office, then?” Glorfindel asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Zach answered. “I really don’t feel like sitting around doing absolutely nothing.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know,” Glorfindel responded with a smile. “Sometimes, doing absolutely nothing has its appeal.”

“Yeah, I know, but not today.”

“Fair enough,” the Elf said as they settled themselves into the van and buckled up. “I’m not scheduled for post office duty today. I’m supposed to help out at the Christmas Market, but I made arrangements to switch with Cassie. So, we’ll go to the post office, but if at any time you feel tired or dizzy or in pain you are to let me know and I’ll bring you back to the college so you can lie down and rest.” He gave the Mortal a stern look, one that took Zach aback in its intensity. “Promise me that you will not ‘brave it out’, as they say, and that you will tell me if you’re not feeling well. Head injuries, even one as mild as yours, are not to be taken lightly.”

“I pr-promise,” Zach replied with a gulp.

Glorfindel stared at him for another second or so, assured that the Mortal was sincere. “Good enough,” he said as he turned on the engine and headed out towards town.

****

True to his word, Zach complained of having trouble reading the letters after about three hours. As it was almost lunchtime, Glorfindel said he would drive Zach back and see him settled before returning to the post office after lunch. The other students were planning to eat in town since it was more convenient. Joan, aware of what had happened to Zach, told Glorfindel not to bother returning in the afternoon.

“It might be better to have someone keep an eye on him, just in case,” she told him.

“Why don’t you put together a stack of letters for me to do while I’m babysitting then,” Glorfindel said with a smile.

“Hey!” Zach protested.

Joan chuckled. “I’ll do that. If you want to give me five minutes, I’ll get everything together for you.”

Glorfindel nodded. “I’ll give them to one of my friends who’ll be here tomorrow.”

“I really don’t need a babysitter,” Zach protested as he and Glorfindel made their way to the van now loaded down with a couple bags of letters and writing paraphernalia.

“Joan is right, though,” Glorfindel said. “It would be best to keep an eye on you for another day or two just in case. I was absolutely serious about not taking a head injury lightly.”

“Fine,” Zach groused, “but if I get bored watching you write letters, I’m going to go down to the internet café and play.”

Glorfindel chuckled. “Let’s get some lunch first.”

As it turned out, Zach ended up sleeping most of the afternoon while Glorfindel quietly sat at his desk reading the children’s letters and writing responses. Just for fun, he signed nearly half the letters with ‘Finrod’, copying the elf-sigil Zach had created using the formen tengwa.

“I can’t believe I slept four hours!” Zach exclaimed with a yawn when he came to and looked at the clock.

“You must have needed it,” Glorfindel said with a shrug as he folded the last letter into an envelope and sealed it, putting it in the bag with all the others. “Why don’t you go freshen up and we’ll take a short walk outside and get some fresh air before dinner. I know I can use some, having sat here all afternoon watching you breathe in and out.”

Zach stuck his tongue out at him and Glorfindel chuckled. Five minutes later they were bundled up and stepping outside. It was already dark and the streetlights were on, casting a yellow-orange glow on the snow drifting lazily down. They walked around the campus for about a half an hour before Zach decided it was too cold and then they went inside to get ready for dinner.

****

The weekend passed quietly. Zach slept a bit more than usual, but Glorfindel was not unduly concerned. He was experienced enough with all kinds of injuries to know that the Mortal’s body was healing itself and sleep was often the best healer. By Monday, though, Zach was his usual self. Glorfindel caught him staring into the mirror, scowling as he tried to rearrange his hair so as to cover up the stitches as much as possible.

“You’re taking the wrong attitude,” Glorfindel said. “Let it alone. The stitches will be out before Thanksgiving and I suspect when you’re wearing a hat the scar will be mostly hidden anyway.”

“I guess,” Zach said mournfully, but he moved away from the mirror and followed Glorfindel out as they headed for breakfast.

Afterwards they made their way to their Wilderness Survival class to find that Roland Smith was there along with Pettingill. On the desk were several boxes with manila envelopes in them. There were also other boxes stacked along the wall underneath the whiteboard, but these were closed.

“Next week is your final exam,” Roland Smith said once everyone settled down. “The proof, as they say, is in the pudding, and you will be demonstrating everything you’ve learned in the last four months by simulating what you will be doing for real in a couple of weeks.” He paused to pick up one of the manila envelopes. “Everyone will get one of these packages. Inside is a profile of a local family who has volunteered to act as tourists. There are also copies of the planning sheet you’ve learned to fill out. You will find another piece of paper telling you on which day you will be meeting your family. We are giving you the rest of this week to look over the profiles, plan the tour based on the preferences marked off by the family and fill out the necessary forms, just as you will do for real when you are working for one of the resorts or safari companies.”

He stopped and took a look at the envelope in his hand and called out a name. One of the students rose and went down to take the envelope even as Pettingill was picking out another envelope and calling out another name. In about fifteen minutes everyone had a package and was perusing its contents while Smith continued his spiel.

“You will have until Friday noon to decide how you plan to conduct the tour and fill out the planning sheets. Since this is an exam and not the real thing, you will write a brief essay describing your reasons for planning the activities as you have. We also have an evaluation form for you to fill out giving us feedback on the courses and the Academy. This is our first year in running this Academy and we are looking for ways to improve it for next year.”

One of the students raised his hand and Smith acknowledged him. “Where do we meet our families?” he asked.

Smith nodded. “Normally, you would go to Fairbanks and meet your clients either at the airport or the train station, get them fitted out with arctic clothing and bring them to the hotel where they are staying. Since all the families you’ll be working with next week are from Wiseman, we’ve arranged to have you meet them at the Grange Hall over on Brooks Street. If you take a look at your planning sheet you will notice that you’ve been assigned to one of the resorts or safari companies. Now, this is not an indication that that is where you will be working. We ran a computer program that randomly matched a student with a family and with one of the resorts or safari companies. So when you meet your family be sure to tell them that you’re their Elf Guide So-and-So from Rainbow Lake Resorts or wherever. All tours will begin promptly at nine.”

“What about transportation?” another student asked.

“Each morning around eight,” Smith explained, “vans will come to the Academy from the different resorts and safari companies. You will be assigned a driver who will take you to the Grange Hall where you’ll pick up your family and then go from there. We’ll be doing this in groups of thirty-six over eight days starting on Sunday. Along with the driver there will be someone from the resort or safari company accompanying you. They will be evaluating your performance. The families will also be asked to fill out an evaluation sheet after the tour.”

Then Pettingill spoke up. “If the weather turns sour on the day you’re scheduled to do your tour, you’ll do it on the following Monday. We’re reserving that day for such an eventuality but we’ll all keep our fingers and toes crossed that it will be unnecessary. If you’re in the middle of a tour and the weather turns, you’ll be evaluated on what you did before the rest of the activities are cancelled and there will be no penalty attached.”

“Everyone will submit a copy of their planning sheet and essay by Friday noon,” Smith then said. “That way we can check them over and make sure there are no fatal flaws as well as to alert the various resorts and safari companies. Please do not change anything on your schedule once you’ve submitted it. Both the driver and the evaluator will have a copy and they will not appreciate any changes you’ve made in the meantime.”

Pettingill then went to one of the boxes by the wall and opened it up, pulling out several booklets. “These are the Handbooks that you and your fellow students created over the semester,” he told them as he began handing them out. “Feel free to use these for references as you’re working out your tour schedule and be sure to bring it with you on the tour just in case.”

Once everyone had a copy, Smith continued. “Remember, all forms need to be submitted to me by Friday noon. We’re giving you the week to work on this so if you have any questions or concerns, if you’re not sure what your family is looking for in terms of a tour, whatever, you can come to me or to one of the other instructors. We won’t help you fill out the forms, but we will offer suggestions. None of you have done this before and there may be some logistical problems of which you are as yet unaware. We’re taking that into account. Eventually, as you guide more and more groups you’ll know what can and what cannot be done. So don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Classes are cancelled for the rest of the week, though we would like you to continue with your work at the post office or at the Christmas Market,” Pettingill then said. “So good luck.”

With that, the two instructors exited the classroom, leaving the students to gather in groups to talk among themselves. The Elves naturally gathered around Glorfindel as did their roommates and other close friends.

“So, who are the lucky ones who get to do this on next Sunday?” Glorfindel asked with a smile.

It turned out that Glorfindel and Matt lucked out; the others were all scheduled for other days with Zach scheduled for the last day, much to his disgust and chagrin.

“I’ll have to wait a whole week to get it over with,” he complained and the others commiserated with him.

“Cheer up,” Nimrodel said, giving him a hug. “You’ll have the advantage of hearing about all our mistakes beforehand so you’ll be able to avoid them yourself.”

That didn’t exactly cheer Zach up but he nodded anyway as they made their way out of the classroom. Glorfindel rifled through the handbook as they walked along. He was quite impressed with the professional look of its layout and was amused by the illustrations that had been done by some of the students. Everything they needed to know to be good Elf Guides was in the booklet. He made a mental note to discuss with Daeron the possibility of creating their own handbook for when they set up their own Elf Academy. He had some ideas that had not been incorporated into the present handbook. In the meantime, the others in the group were deciding if they should go and start on their forms or take advantage of the free time to do something fun.

“Before it gets too weird around here,” Shane said knowingly.

“We haven’t been to Fairbanks for quite some time,” Cassie suggested. “Why don’t we grab the bus and go down and hang out at the mall? Maybe there’s a movie we can catch or something.”

Everyone thought it was a great idea and within the hour they were at the bus station buying tickets for the next bus to Fairbanks which would be leaving in half an hour. Glorfindel, though, found himself musing on the past for some reason even as he sat in the midst of the group. The Mortals, as usual, were chattering away, speaking of nothing and everything as the mood or the thought struck them; the Elves were quieter for the most part. They seemed to have picked up on Glorfindel’s mood.

“What is it, mellon nîn?” Daeron asked him softly. “You are very quiet all of a sudden.”

Glorfindel gave him a weak smile. “Just thinking,” he answered.

“Ah, thinking...” Daeron echoed. “A dangerous occupation.”

Glorfindel’s smile widened and he allowed himself to be drawn back into the present, determined to enjoy the outing and not spoil it for the others.

****

The week went by both slowly and quickly for them all. There was a lot of cursing and hair pulling on the parts of all of them as they struggled to work through the forms and come up with reasonable day-long tours for their respective families. Not every family wanted to engage in the same activities. Some wanted to engage in more of them than others, all wanted to visit Santa Claus. That part of the tour was, thankfully, already arranged for them. With thirty-six groups a day, averaging two children in each group, they were assigned a particular hour in which they would bring their group to the grotto. Thus, nine groups would meet up at the grotto more or less at the same time.

“So, I’m thinking the best thing to do is plan the tour backwards,” Daeron said to them as they gathered for dinner on Tuesday, all of them discussing the difficulties they were having putting a tour together.

“What do you mean?” Jud asked.

“Start with the visit with Santa,” Daeron explained. “You know what time your group is scheduled to arrive there. You know which activities your family wants to engage in and how long it will take to do each activity assuming there are no delays. Factor in meal times and travel time from one location to the next and space out your activities accordingly. According to the instructions, the visit to Santa ends the tour, so if you’re scheduled to see Santa at three o’clock, you have less time to do all the other activities than someone whose group is scheduled to see Santa at seven o’clock.”

They all nodded in understanding. “Well, that makes things a little easier, I guess,” Lily opined.

****

Glorfindel looked over his forms one last time. It was Friday morning just after breakfast and he planned to hand everything in as soon as he could. He had been assigned to guide a family consisting of parents of three children, a boy, aged twelve, and twin girls, aged nine. The family had selected husky sledding, snowshoe walking and reindeer sleigh rides as their activities of choice. It was the policy of the resorts and safari companies that children had to be at least ten years of age before they were allowed on snowmobiles, so that activity, thankfully, had not been selected. The boy, Kevin, was interested in photography and hoped to get some good pictures of the mountains according to the father; the twins, Kimberley and Kathryn, were more interested in seeing some of the wildlife. Glorfindel had spent the week carefully mapping out the logistics of the activities, coming up with alternatives in case of the weather or it turned out they had more or less time than originally planned for an activity. He was lucky in that his family was scheduled to meet with Santa at four o’clock. If he delayed the nature walk until the afternoon, it would take nearly an hour for them to drive from there to the grotto.

Satisfied that he had thought of every contingency, he put the papers together and stuck them back into the manila envelope to hand in, making sure his own copies were safely put away until he needed them. He looked up at Zach sitting at his own desk, looking over his papers with a grimace.

“It’s going to be fine,” Glorfindel said soothingly. “I think your plan is a good one. Don’t worry about it. I don’t think the instructors are expecting us to get everything right. That’s why they’re using volunteers from the town to help out before we deal with paying customers. Come. Let’s get rid of these and go do something to take our minds off things.”

Zach nodded, giving a sigh, and soon they were walking along the corridor, heading towards Roland Smith's office where they were to drop off their plans.

****

Sunday morning, Zach got up with Glorfindel to wish him luck. Those students who were doing their exam that day were gathered at the cafeteria early to grab some breakfast, though most were too nervous to eat much. The other Elves were there to see him off as well, giving Glorfindel last minute (and rather useless) advice, which he accepted with good-natured grace. Then they gathered in the foyer where Deirdre was pointing out which van they would take to the Grange Hall. Glorfindel, for the purposes of the exam, was now an employee of Alaska Tundra Safaris, one of the smaller companies. All thirty-six students were dressed in their Elf Guide outfits with their name tags pinned to their coats. Glorfindel waved farewell to his friends, then went in search of the van assigned to him, introducing himself to the two men who were waiting for him.

“Jim Bedford,” the driver said, giving him a hearty handshake.

“Andy Norton,” the other man said, also shaking Glorfindel’s hand. “Welcome to Alaska Tundra Safaris, if only for a day.” The man smiled and Glorfindel warmed to him immediately. It was obvious Andy was attempting to put him at ease, believing that he must be nervous, and were he Mortal he probably would be, but he was not and this was just another experience in a long line of experiences that he had had in his long life, or actually, lives if one included his time in Mandos.

“Thanks,” he said. “So what happens now?” He decided to act a little nervous for the benefit of the two men.

Andy grinned. “We’ll drive to the Grange Hall where you’ll meet your family. As soon as you have them, bring them to the van and we’ll get going. Jim and I are both familiar with the schedule you’ve created. A good one, by the way. I’m really impressed. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been doing this all your life.”

Glorfindel laughed. “Hardly. I put a lot of sweat, blood and tears into that schedule.”

“And it shows,” Andy said.

They reached the Hall and Glorfindel climbed out, effecting a nervous smile, and headed inside along with the other students who were acting as guides that day. Inside, there was mild chaos as groups of families arrived. The students were herded towards one side of the hall where a table was set up. On the table were placards with the names of families. Glorfindel found his — Michaelson — and took it to the other side of the hall where all the families were congregated. He held up his sign and after about five minutes a couple approached with three children.

“We’re the Michaelsons,” the father said. “I’m Dave and this is my wife, Janna, and our children, Kevin, and the twins, Kim and Kathy.”

Glorfindel smiled and gave them a graceful bow. “And I am your Elf Guide, Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower,” he said, “presently employed with Alaska Tundra Safaris, at your service.”

The twins’ eyes widened and even the boy who had that world-weary look of all twelve-year-olds, seemed impressed. Dave and Janna gave him indulgent smiles.

“Shall we?” Glorfindel said, motioning them to follow him out to the van. “I understand, young Kevin, that you are interested in photography.”

“Yessir,” the boy replied, responding automatically to the grave attention that the Elf-lord was giving him, though he was unaware of this. “I’m gonna be a world-famous photographer someday.”

“I see you have forsworn using a digital camera for a more traditional type,” Glorfindel remarked as he helped the parents get the twins into the van and safely buckled in.

“My dad says I should know how to use a real camera before I use a digital one,” Kevin explained with a sigh, holding up his Leica for Glorfindel’s inspection.

“Your father is most wise, young Kevin,” Glorfindel said with a slight smile, “and you do well to listen to him, for he knows of what he speaks. Learn the intricacies of the traditional camera and you will have mastered a skill few will have in the future. That will help you in your chosen career.” Kevin’s expression became more thoughtful.

“So I’ve been telling him,” Dave said with a grin, “but I’m just his father, so my words don’t count.”

Glorfindel laughed. “Indeed.” Then he turned his attention to the twins. “And you, dear maidens, I believe wish to see something of the animals who live in the wilds.”

The twins, who were identical, giggled as one and nodded, their short braids bobbing up and down. “Are you really an elf?” one of them asked.

Glorfindel nodded. “Oh yes, I am.”

“How old are you?” the other twin asked and Glorfindel decided he would learn which twin was which before lunchtime.

“I am older than the trees, but younger than the mountains,” he replied, borrowing the phrase from a John Denver song.

“How old is that?” the first twin asked.

Glorfindel laughed. “Very old,” he replied. “I remember when the First Peoples came over the land bridge across what you call the Bering Strait.”

The twins looked suitably impressed, Kevin looked skeptical and their parents looked amused. Glorfindel could see Jim smiling as he drove to their first destination, the Lightfoot Reindeer Farm, while Andy made a notation on his clipboard, his expression carefully neutral. It was not a long ride and during the time Glorfindel explained what the schedule would be for the rest of the day. “We will save the nature walk until after lunch,” he said. “The morning will be best for photography, so I’ve arranged the activities so young Kevin can use his camera as much as possible.”

The parents nodded, looking pleased, and Kevin’s expression became more excited as they made their way to the Lightfoot’s farm. The twins were shy around the reindeer, but Kevin came right up to them and stroked their foreheads.

“He is unafraid,” Glorfindel commented to Dave in an approving voice. “That will stand him in good stead in the future, for if he means to pursue his chosen craft he will sometimes be in dangerous situations to get that one perfect shot.”

Dave gave him a considering look. “You speak in an old-fashioned manner and yet you talk about rather modern subjects.”

Glorfindel smiled wryly. “I am an Elf, Dave Michaelson, but I also live in this world alongside Mortals. It is rather difficult even here in the wilds of north Alaska to get entirely away from MTV and computer games.”

Dave gave him an astounded look and then broke out in loud laughter. Andy, standing nearby and watching the interaction between them, scribbled away on his clipboard, a faint smile on his lips.

When Glorfindel suggested teaching Dave how to drive the sleigh, he knew he had won the man over, for there was a gleam of anticipation and delight in the Mortal’s eyes as he climbed aboard the sleigh next to Glorfindel while his family huddled behind them, wrapped in thick woolen blankets. Dave proved an excellent student and in a short while he was handling the reins quite well. Kevin insisted on taking a picture of his father holding the reins while the rest of the family sat behind him, all of them smiling into the camera. Then, Glorfindel offered to take a picture so Kevin could be included in the shot. He pretended not to know how to handle such an instrument and Kevin proudly showed him what to do. Both Dave and Janna gave Glorfindel approving smiles over their son’s head. Jim, who was standing about watching it all then offered to take a picture of the family with Glorfindel.

“Then you can show everyone who your Elf Guide was,” he said to the children and they all agreed to that.

After the reindeer sleigh ride, they drove to the Northern Lights Holiday Resort where they would do some husky sledding. Here everyone was encouraged to give it a try, even the twins who squealed with delight when the dogs began moving. Glorfindel was patience personified as he taught the three children how to maneuver the sleds while employees of the resort instructed the parents. Each child was paired with an adult with the parents taking the twins. Glorfindel had by now figured out which twin was which and the entire family showed surprise when he addressed Kimberley correctly when she asked him a question. Even Andy was impressed by this feat. Glorfindel took Kevin in his sled and off they went. They would travel for about a half an hour before switching partners and then it would be nearly time for lunch, which would be taken at the resort as part of the program.

“I trust that you are having a good time,” Glorfindel said as he helped hand out bowls of tomato soup and plates of grilled ham and cheese sandwiches to the Michaelsons as they sat around a table in a log cabin warmed by a fire.

Everyone nodded. “This is the best day ever,” Kevin declared. “I got lots of cool pictures.”

“And the day is only half over,” his father said with a smile.

“Indeed,” Glorfindel replied. “After lunch we will walk a special trail using snowshoes and with any luck we might see some animals along the way, or at least their tracks.”

The twins cheered and clapped and everyone settled in to eat their lunch and warm up. When they were done, Glorfindel gravely thanked the two women who had provided them with the lunch, which flustered them, though they were obviously pleased, and the rest of the party gave their own thank-yous as they left the cabin.

Glorfindel had planned the day in such a way that it would take them some time to go from the Northern Lights Resort to the Mount Horace Resort where the nature walk would take place. This would leave them with about an hour and a half to walk the trail before heading for Santa’s Grotto. He was aware that the twins would start to flag in energy long before that, so he wanted them to rest in the van. He entertained them during the long drive with tales of ancient days when the stars were young and Mortals had not yet woken to walk the world. He eschewed telling them the elf tales that had been devised for the guides and could be found in the handbook for actual tales of the First Age, describing Gondolin and its terrible fall, though he pretended that he had survived the battle with the balrog, not wishing to get into messy details about being a Reborn and he kept the description of blood and gore to the absolute minimum. Everyone was duly impressed with his tales, including Andy and Jim, and the children were surprised when Jim announced that they had arrived at their destination.

“Wow!” exclaimed Kevin. “It doesn’t feel like a whole hour’s gone by.”

Glorfindel smiled. “Then I have succeeded in diverting your attention for a time from the long and rather boring drive.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

It turned out that the Michaelsons were well acquainted with snowshoes and how to walk on top of the snow, so it was only a matter of minutes before everyone was kitted out and Glorfindel led them along the nature trail. By now, the sun was dipping below the horizon and Kevin was forced to put his camera away. The twins looked about them in wonder, hoping to see an animal. Glorfindel, of course, was well aware of the wildlife around them. At one point he stopped them and pointed silently at tracks that ran parallel to the trail.

“Do you know what animal made these tracks?” he asked the children softly. All three shook their heads. “An arctic hare,” Glorfindel replied. “See you how long the stride is?” he asked and went on to describe the habits of the hares. “If you are very quiet we may see them yet.” The children stilled as much as possible, only their eyes flitting back and forth as they looked about for signs of the hares. Glorfindel closed his eyes and quested with his mind, touching the dim thoughts of a hare who was nearby and after about five minutes he heard startled gasps from the Mortals. He opened his eyes to see a hare bounding across the space between one tree and the next before it disappeared again into the forest.

He smiled at the delighted faces of the children and then motioned them on. They saw no other animals, though Glorfindel pointed out the tracks of some lemmings and an arctic fox, but that was all right. The children still were entranced and impressed that he recognized the spoors and could even tell them how long ago the tracks had been made. By the time they reached the end of the trail and were removing their snowshoes, it was completely dark. Glorfindel could tell that the twins were beginning to flag in their enthusiasm and even Kevin was wilting a bit. The parents just looked cold. He glanced at the sky, gauging the time and came to a decision. “We still have some time before we can visit Santa,” he said. “Why don’t I show you how to make fire in snow and we’ll toast some marshmallows before we go on?”

All three children perked up at that and in minutes he had them running about gathering small bits of wood as he set about making the fire pit. He had thought about this all week, wondering how long the youngsters would last after such a full day in below freezing temperatures. As part of his ‘plan’ he had listed this very activity as an addition to the other activities given enough time before they were due to meet with Santa. Glorfindel had purchased the bag of marshmallows himself and had brought them with him in a small bag that he had thrown into the back of the van. There was a small but complete first aid kit in the bag as well as a large thermos of hot cocoa in case there was need for a warm drink between activities. He had found a set of eight wooden cups at a dollar store and had bought them as well, stowing them away in his bag.

Now he brought everything out, pouring the cocoa which was still steaming into the cups and handing them to the grateful adults while the children were still hunting for sticks with which to toast their marshmallows.

Janna gave him a warm smile. “This has been a wonderful tour. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome, Janna Michaelson,” Glorfindel said with his own smile. “I have enjoyed your company and that of your children very much.”

Just then, the children all ran up holding out several sticks and Glorfindel opened the bag of marshmallows and began handing them out while everyone found seats on logs. The fire was very welcome, for the sky was clear of clouds, making it even colder. Glorfindel looked up and smiled. “Ah, look, my friends. The stars of Elbereth shine forth. There is Gwilwileth the butterfly and look, over there is the Cerch Belain, the Sickle of the Valar.”

“Who are the Valar?” Kevin asked, as he watched his marshmallow bubble and turn brown.

“They are the Guardians of Arda, which is our name for this world,” Glorfindel replied. “You might say that they are angels of the highest order sent by the One to watch over us.”

“You mentioned someone,” Janna said. “Elber-something.”

“Elbereth,” Glorfindel corrected. “The Queen of the Valar and maker of the stars. Would you like to hear a hymn to her which the Elves sing?”

There were nods all around. Glorfindel was amused to see that even Andy, who should have been acting as a neutral observer, was nodding along with the others even as he blew on a marshmallow before eating it.

“I will sing it in the language of my people and then I will translate it,” Glorfindel said and he proceeded to sing in a clear, ethereal voice:

“A Elbereth Gilthoniel, silivren penna míriel o menel aglar elenath! Na-chaered palan-díriel o galadhremmin ennorath, Fanuilos, le linnathon nef aear, sí nef aearon!”

As he ended the hymn he saw that Janna had tears running unheeded down her cheeks, freezing even as they fell. The children sat with their mouths open in perfect ‘Os’, their marshmallows forgotten. The three men were equally stunned. Quietly, he translated into English, speaking the words:

“O Elbereth, Starkindler, white-glittering, sparkling like jewels, the glory of the starry host slants down. Having gazed far away from the tree-woven lands of Middle-earth, to thee, Ever-white, I will sing on this side of the sea, here on this side of the Ocean.”

He paused for a moment before speaking again. “That is only a rough translation, I’m afraid.”

“It’s beautiful,” Janna said, futilely wiping the frozen tears from her cheeks.

“I think we should get going,” Glorfindel then said in a more normal voice, breaking the spell he had woven. “Let’s put out the fire and be on our way.” It took only a few minutes before they were ready to leave. During the trip to the grotto, Glorfindel, at the request of young Kathy, taught them the hymn. Not that any of them sang it quite right, but it kept the children occupied so that the time went quickly for them. Jim brought the van to the designated spot and everyone climbed out.

“Here you must hold hands,” Glorfindel said to the children, putting out his own hand for Kim to take. He led them silently to the Elf-path and the children gasped to see the lights flickering in the snow. He smiled at the wonder on their faces as he brought them to the clearing and ushered them into the grotto. He had timed their arrival so that they were actually the last group to come during that hour. The other families had come and gone and they were alone. A couple he did not know greeted them cheerfully, the woman plying them with hot cider and cookies. The man playing Santa was quite jovial and very humorous so that even Glorfindel was laughing at his jokes as he spoke to the children. The twins were naturally enthralled and willingly spoke of their Christmas wish list. Kevin, being older and wiser, was more reluctant.

Glorfindel bent down to whisper in his ear. “You don’t have to believe that Santa is a real person,” he said. “Just believe in the Spirit of peace, good-will and unstinting generosity that he represents.”

Kevin gave him a considering look and after a moment nodded. He then went up to Santa, holding out his camera. “I want to be a photographer when I grow up,” he said and Santa nodded. “So, I need more film for my camera.”

“Is that all, Kevin?” the man said solemnly. “Is there nothing more that you want? Is there no deep desire that you keep hidden within your heart?”

Glorfindel watched the interplay between the man and the child with great interest. All the jollity was gone from the man as he gazed down at the child who hesitated, looking back at Glorfindel, perhaps for some reassurance. Glorfindel was not sure what the boy was looking for but he nodded encouragingly anyway. Kevin turned back to Santa and in a voice that was more of a whisper he said, “I... I would like a telescope so I can see Elbereth’s stars more closely.”

Santa gazed up at Glorfindel and the other adults. Kevin’s parents simply nodded and Glorfindel warmed at the thought that perhaps he had in some small way sparked that interest for star-gazing in the child. The man looked back down at the boy and gave him a bright smile. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said gently and Kevin’s whole face lit up. Glorfindel realized that as grown-up as the boy tried to act, especially in front of his younger sisters, he was still more child than adult.

“And now, why don’t we sing a song before you must leave,” Santa suggested and the children nodded. “What song would you like to sing?”

Glorfindel was not at all surprised, though certainly Santa and Mrs. Claus were, when the three children began singing the hymn that he had taught them, their voices piping sweetly, Kevin’s only breaking once. When they were finished, there was a moment of silence and then Santa spoke.

“Well, that was certainly different. Thank you, children, for a lovely song.”

“Glorfindel taught us,” Kathy said, giving the Elf a shy smile.

“Ah....” Santa gave him a knowing look. “Well, he’s an elf after all,” he said with a smile.

And then it was time for them to leave. Back in the van Dave and Janna thanked Glorfindel for a wonderful tour. “You made this day very special for all of us,” Janna said.

“No, dear lady,” Glorfindel said with all sincerity. “It was you and your lovely family that made it special. I thank you for allowing me to give you this day and its memories. May you have a merry Christmas and a happy New Year.”

The children fell asleep soon after as they headed back, the twins laying their heads on their parents’ laps while Kevin, the last to succumb, nestled against Glorfindel who wrapped a protective arm around the child and planted a brief kiss on his head.

“He’s too old for the Santa thing,” Dave said, giving his son a fond look. “Yet, I think today you gave him back something of the magic of the season and I thank you for that.”

“You never stopped believing?” Glorfindel asked.

“Oh sure, when I was his age,” Dave said with a chuckle. “But, you know, when you have kids of your own....” He gave a shrug. “I guess you regain some of that belief in magic you once had as a child.”

Glorfindel nodded and they lapsed into silence for the rest of the trip back. Once at the Grange Hall, Glorfindel bade them all a fond farewell. Jim offered to drive him back to the college which he accepted. Andy shook his hand in farewell as he had his own transportation. “A most interesting day,” he said.

“I hope you don’t judge the other students by me, though,” Glorfindel said.

Andy shook his head. “Not to worry. Each student is judged on his or her own merits.”

When he entered the Academy he was unsurprised to see the other Elves waiting for him in the reading room, which they had to themselves.

“How did it go?” Daeron asked somewhat anxiously.

Glorfindel gave them a smile. “You know, I think I’m going to enjoy being an Elf Guide,” he said as he removed his coat, “but I am so glad this day is over with.”

The others smiled and started demanding details. Glorfindel held up his hands to still their words. “Let me freshen up and I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”

Everyone agreed to that and half an hour later they were seated in the cafeteria along with their Mortal friends while, first Matt, then Glorfindel told them how their day went.

****

Gwilwileth: Sindarin form of the Quenya Wilwarin ‘butterfly’, which we call Cassiopeia.

Cerch Belain: Sindarin form of the Quenya Valacirca ‘Sickle of the Valar’, which we call Ursa Major or the Big Dipper.

Notes:

1. The formen tengwa is No. 10 and is used for ‘f’ in Sindarin.

2. The translation of the hymn to Elbereth is from Tolkien’s The Road Goes Ever On.