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Elf Academy  by Fiondil

19: An Unexpected Encounter

The Elves ran through a storm-shrouded ghost town. The blizzard had effectively shut everything down. Being Sunday, traffic had been sparse anyway, and now no one was on the streets save them. All was dark except for the eerie glow of the streetlights illuminating their way. Glorfindel had decided not to make for the access road to the James Dalton Highway, but to cut across country, angling towards Bettles, where Lookout Safaris had its headquarters. He did not expect to take them that far though, for Bettles was nearly sixty miles as the craban flies. He was making for the Steiner Farm which was where Zach’s group was heading when all trace of them was lost. He intended to backtrack from there, hoping to find the van somewhere along the way.

As they moved out of the town and into the countryside, they also moved out of the worst of the storm, for it had been traveling southeast. Snow still fell but not as heavily and they made better time. They traveled in silence for nearly an hour, the three Sindar easily keeping up with Glorfindel’s pace while the Twins brought up the rear.

"We should be near Steiner’s by now," Daeron said to Glorfindel as they maneuvered around a copse of firs. It was the first time any of them had spoken since leaving the Grange Hall.

Glorfindel nodded, never breaking his stride. "I’ve never been there. My tour took me to the north."

Daeron nodded. "My group stopped there and I think Elladan’s group did as well."

Glorfindel slowed to a stop, giving Nimrodel, who was directly behind him, fair warning. "Elladan," he called and the ellon loped up to see what his captain required of him. Elrohir and the ellith gathered around as well. Glorfindel gave the older twin a smile. "Daeron says you’ve been to the Steiner Farm."

Elladan nodded. "Yes." He looked about him, understanding what Glorfindel required of him. Daeron, estimable Elf though he was, did not have the same training in tracking and scouting that the Twins did. Here in the pristine wilderness where there were no roads or other manmade landmarks to guide them, only his own innate awareness of the land would help them. There was no moon nor stars to guide him, but he was sure of where he was and pointed more to the southeast than south. "It’s beyond that hill," he said with every confidence that he was correct.

Glorfindel nodded. "Lead us, then," he ordered and the younger ellon took point and they set off once again.

"Do we stop at the farm?" Daeron asked as they made their way up the hill. It was not a large hill but it was steep and even for the Elves the going was not easy.

"I would rather not," Glorfindel said, "but it might be wise to do so in case by some miracle Zach and the others made it there after we left the Hall."

They reached the crest of the hill and paused to look about them. "There," Elladan said, pointing to the right. They all looked and saw a glimmer of light and smoke rising from a chimney.

With a nod from Glorfindel they set off again. Going downhill was easier though they took care but soon they were crossing a field bounded by fences and then they were at the farm. Somewhere a dog barked and even as Glorfindel was knocking on the farmhouse door, it opened. The light from inside temporarily blinded them. A large figure stood before them and before Glorfindel could say anything he was being grabbed by the arms and hauled into the house.

"Get yerself in, lad, before ya freeze to death," a gruff voice commanded.

"Fred!" they heard a woman call out anxiously. "Is it them?"

"No, Ellen," Fred replied, ushering them all into the hallway before closing the door.

By now their eyes had adjusted and they saw a large burly man with a shock of white hair and a grizzled beard and keen blue eyes that saw everything and forgot nothing. The man turned to them and stopped in surprise, noticing them for the first time, staring unabashedly at their ears.

"Oh, glory be!"

They turned to see a woman wiping her hands on an apron. She was somewhat younger than the man, her hair still a soft brown, her eyes hazel and normally they would be twinkling with humor, for they could all see the laugh lines around them, but at that moment they were dark with shock at the sight of them.

Glorfindel gave them a bow. "My name is Glorfindel," he said, "my friends and I are looking for the ones who are lost."

Fred glanced at Ellen and then back at the Elves, frowning as he examined them more closely. He pointed to Daeron. "You were here yesterday," he said almost accusingly.

Daeron nodded, giving him a bow. "Yes. My name is Daeron. We are friends of the young man who is acting as an Elf Guide for the tour that was supposed to come here but never did. You have seen naught of them?"

"No," Ellen answered for her husband. "Fred even went out with the plow to see if perhaps they were stuck somewhere along the way."

"I jus’ got back, actually," Fred said, "not more ‘n twenty minutes ago. Had to turn back when the drifts got too high even fer the plow."

Glorfindel frowned. "How far did you get?"

"Not that far," Fred replied. "Maybe half a mile, no more. But how didcha get here?" He eyed them now with more suspicion, suddenly realizing that there was no way they could have come by way of the road.

"We ran across country from Wiseman," Glorfindel said absently, thinking of their next move. He ignored the looks of astonishment on the Mortals’ faces.

"You... you’re not human, are you?" Ellen ventured faintly as if afraid she might be offending them.

Glorfindel shook his head and smiled. "Nay, lady. We are the Eldar, the ones you call Elves. Now we must go, for we still have to find Zach and the others." He turned to Fred. "Can you contact Wiseman, let them know we’ve made it this far? I know they will be anxious to hear any news. Tell them we’re heading for Santa’s Grotto." Fred nodded in bemusement as the Elves made for the door.

"Wait!" Ellen cried out.

They stopped and gave her their attention. "I’ve got hot cocoa simmering on the stove," she told them. "You should have some before you go out again."

"I assure you, lady...." Glorfindel started to say, but Ellen shook her head.

"No. Elves or not, you’re not going out until you’ve had a proper warm up," Ellen insisted, taking Glorfindel’s arm in a rather familiar fashion, much to his amusement. "The storm’s not going anywhere and your friend isn’t either. I do not think ten minutes is going to change the outcome either way. Now you all come into the kitchen. We’ve got a good fire going."

Glorfindel allowed himself to be dragged into the kitchen with the others trailing, Fred bringing up the rear. It was perhaps the largest room in the house, a combination of kitchen, dining room and sitting room, for there was a large fireplace at one end in which sat a woodstove before which were a couple of rocking chairs and a bear rug. The room smelled of roses and cinnamon and oranges and they saw several bowls of potpourri scattered around. Swags of different dried herbs hung above the counter separating the kitchen area from the rest of the room. The entire ambiance was one of warmth and welcome and in spite of themselves, the Elves felt themselves relaxing. Fred gestured for them to go to the fireplace while Ellen made her way to the kitchen to start ladling out cocoa into earthenware mugs.

"There now," she said as she and her husband handed out the mugs. "You just warm yourselves up. Why, none of you are even dressed properly! How you’re not all suffering from frostbite is beyond me."

The Elves smiled as they drank their cocoa. "We are Elves, lady," Nimrodel answered her. "We are not as affected by the cold as Mortals are."

"But we are grateful for the cocoa," Elrohir added, smacking his lips. "Dark chocolate, too. You’ll have to give me the recipe."

Both Ellen and Fred gave the Elf astounded looks and Glorfindel and the others snickered. "Elrohir has been collecting hot chocolate recipes ever since we took the cooking class at the Elf Academy," Glorfindel explained.

Now the two Mortals were looking bewildered. "Elf Academy?" Fred asked. "Yer all at that Elf Academy?"

The Elves nodded.

"B-but why!?" Ellen exclaimed.

Glorfindel shook his head. "That is entirely too long a story to tell at this time." He drained his mug. "We must be going. We thank you for your hospitality." He gave the two Mortals a respectful bow which the others echoed. They started towards the front door but Fred stopped them.

"Go out the back way," he said, pointing to a door at the other end of the room.

"If you find them, bring them here," Ellen said. "We’ve plenty of room for everyone."

"That depends on where we find them," Glorfindel said. "It is my hope that they made it to the grotto."

"They cancelled the visits to Santa before the first group got there," Fred told them, "so there won’t be anyone else there."

Glorfindel thanked the couple again and then they were making their way through a mudroom to the outer door. Fred and Ellen were right behind them.

"The road to the grotto is in that direction," Fred said as the Elves stepped outside to get their bearings and the man pointed to the left. "Good luck."

"Godspeed," Ellen said and then she was closing the door against the cold.

Glorfindel looked about, gauging the landscape. It had stopped snowing for a bit though he did not think the storm was entirely spent. "Come. Let us go," he said quietly and they set off again in search of their friend and the others.

****

They found the road easily enough, for they came upon the cleared part that Fred had made with the plow and though the rest of the road was hidden under the snow it was apparent where it lay for there were clumps of trees on either side and they could see the occasional wooden post sticking up on their right indicating the location of a fence, so they used that as a guide. They walked in silence again, keeping their eyes open for any tell-tale sign of the van.

"Look!" Mithrellas cried after they had been walking for about thirty minutes.

They all stopped to see where she was pointing. The road had been rising along a shallow incline so that the fields on their right were perhaps two or three feet below it. Mithrellas was pointing down into the valley. At first Glorfindel, flashing his torch about, was not sure what the elleth had seen but then Elrohir tapped him on the shoulder and shone his own torch on a particular spot. It was an irregular hump of snow where all else around it was flat. Without a word Glorfindel started down and the others followed. Elrohir and Elladan leaped up to the top of the hump, proving that it was indeed the van when they started brushing off the foot of snow covering the roof. Silently, grimly, they all began clearing the snow away. It was not easy for the snow was high, but they continued working. Elladan knocked on the roof once a section of it was completely cleared and bent to listen but shook his head when he heard no answering knock. It took another fifteen minutes or so for them to clear enough space so they could at least shine a torch through a window, dreading to see what they might find.

"Empty," Daeron whispered, sounding both relieved and worried.

Glorfindel nodded, looking about him, trying to imagine what might have happened. "They were making their way to Steiner’s but then the van slid off the road, crashing through the fence," he said, pointing to the section of the front fender that was free of snow where they could see a dent. "They didn’t continue along to the farm, so they must have decided to make for the grotto. How close are we?"

"Fairly close," Daeron said. "At least, close to the turn off. I think they would have done better to have kept going to Steiner’s."

"I wonder who made the decision to abandon the van and head for the grotto?" Nimrodel asked.

Glorfindel gave her a grim smile. "We’ll have to ask when we find them. Elladan, you and Daeron take point, we’ll follow."

They headed back up to the road. "How long do you suppose it’s been since they abandoned the van?" Mithrellas asked Glorfindel.

"We know that Zach cut the husky sledding activity short," Glorfindel replied. "The original plan called for them to be at Lookout sledding until about three or so. Allowing for time to unhitch the dogs and all that, Zach figured they would be on their way again by three-twenty, three-thirty at the latest."

The others nodded. "Then they would have made their way to Steiner’s for hot chocolate before going on to see Santa," Elrohir said.

"Yes," Glorfindel averred. "Zach was hoping to time the visit to the grotto so that they would be one of the last groups there. He didn’t want it to be too crowded for the kids." They all nodded, for they had done something similar with their own tours. Glorfindel continued. "Fred said the visits to Santa were cancelled before the first group arrived there, so the word must have gotten out to everyone by around two-thirty, which is about when Zach ended the husky sledding. Thus, they must have known that Santa was off the list, so why were they headed for Steiner’s?"

"It is as I said," Elrohir replied. "The storm was hitting Wiseman around that time. Bettles wouldn’t have been affected yet, if they ever were, for the storm front was heading southeast into the Yukon Flats. But once they were on the James Dalton Highway heading north, they would have been driving right into the storm. It’s possible the driver decided to make for Steiner’s as being a safer route and closer than Wiseman."

"They should have continued on then," Nimrodel said, "instead of heading for the grotto."

"Someone must have decided that the grotto was closer," Glorfindel replied.

"It is, actually," Daeron said as he pointed to his right. "There’s the turn off. The entrance to the Elf-path lies less than a quarter of a mile further on."

Glorfindel nodded. "Then it’s possible they made it there after all."

"We can hope," Elladan said darkly. "Judging from the amount of snow covering the van they must have had the accident around the time we were leaving Wiseman and that was at the very height of the storm. They should have stayed in the van, it would have given them some protection."

"But they didn’t and we must hope for the best," Glorfindel said. "Damn! The storm’s picking up again."

It was true. From the time they had left the Steiners, the wind had begun to rise and the snow, which had stopped, began to fall again. Now they were back into white-out conditions.

"Listen!" Elladan suddenly exclaimed, holding up a hand as a signal for them to stop.

The others strained to hear whatever it was that Elladan had heard, but the howling of the wind made it difficult. There were lulls in the wind, though, and faintly they heard:

"Ru... deer... shy... nose but... saw...."

"Someone’s singing!" Mithrellas exclaimed.

"Shush!" Glorfindel admonished, trying to gauge the direction.

"...glows... oth... rein... laugh...."

"That way," Elrohir said pointing to their left and they headed off the road and into the trees lining it.

They did not have far to go for their torches picked up a large pile of snow between a couple of firs that formed a roof over it. The mound was clearly not formed by nature, for there was a hole about halfway up and they could clearly hear voices emanating from within the mound.

"Finrod!" Glorfindel cried as he reached the mound and began digging frantically to widen the hole, the others right behind him, helping. "Finrod!" he called again.

"Here!" came the muffled sound of Zach’s voice and Glorfindel nearly sagged with relief. Until that moment he had not realized just how much he had worried for the safety of his friend.

Glorfindel undid his pack, as did the others and they began digging out the entrance enough to crawl through. Glorfindel went first, finding himself in a small hollow tightly packed with several people. He flashed his torch about and nearly laughed at the cries of protest from those within. He saw Zach sitting in the middle of the group with a young boy-child, who could not have been more than three, huddled in his arms. There were three other children huddled between the adults, two girls and another boy, ranging from about six to perhaps eleven. Two women, one of them obviously the children’s mother, and a man completed the group. They were all staring at him with various degrees of wonder (the children) and disbelief (the adults).

"Ah, Finrod, gwador nîn," he said in as nonchalant a voice as he could manage, "I see you have everything well in hand and did not need rescuing after all."

Zach gave him a jaundiced look. "I w-would comment on that but there are w-women and children present," the Mortal replied.

Glorfindel laughed, as much from relief as from Zach’s retort.

"How did you even find us?" one of the women asked. She wore a coat with the Arctic Village Holiday Resort logo on it, as did the man.

"We heard you singing," Glorfindel replied. "Let’s get you all out of here." He backed out of the hollow and Zach pushed the little boy off him, and in a matter of minutes everyone was climbing out of the snow mound, the Elves helping them to stand, encouraging them to move around to get circulation back in their legs while they undid their packs, wrapping the children up in the blankets and handing out the sweetened tea for everyone to drink. The children all made funny faces at the taste but with some encouragement on the part of the Elves and their mother, they drank their share.

All the while the Mortals, including Zach, stared at the Elves, not sure how to react. The young man glanced back and forth between the six whom he thought of as his friends, staring at their ears in the light of the torches, clearly puzzled and upset. "You... you’re real, aren’t you?" he finally asked, staring at Glorfindel. "Elves, I mean? All this time and...."

"Yes, we’re real," Glorfindel said with a smile.

"Like Finwod?" came the excited voice of the little boy whom Zach had been holding.

Glorfindel looked down at the toddler standing next to Zach and knelt so he was at eye level with him. "Oh, no," he remarked with a light laugh. "Finrod is just playing being an Elf, but we are the real thing."

"Why Finwod not an Elf?" the boy demanded as he grabbed Zach’s hand. "I like Finwod." He gave the young man an adoring smile that caused Zach to blush.

Zach knelt beside them. "Because I am human like you. See?" He reached up and pulled off his hat to reveal his rounded ears. "My name is actually Zach, Zachary Austin."

Glorfindel gave the mystified child a gentle smile. "Finrod is not a real Elf but he is an Elf-friend, and among my people, that is a very high honor. Very few Mortals are ever called Elf-friends."

The little boy stared intently at the Elf and then back at Zach who gave Glorfindel a puzzled look. "Elf-friend?" he asked.

"Time enough for explanations later," Glorfindel said as he stood. He turned to the other Mortals, giving them a respectful bow. "I am Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin," he said formally, "and with me are Lords Daeron of Doriath, Elladan and Elrohir of Imladris, and the Ladies Nimrodel and Mithrellas of Lothlórien. We are indeed Elves and we are here to render aid."

"I’m... I’m Nicole Lord," the children’s mother said, "and this is Adam, Rachel, Hannah and Caleb." Caleb turned out to be the toddler.

"Ralph Penner," the man introduced himself, "I’m the driver."

"Beth Henderson," the other woman offered.

"Santa’s Grotto is not far," Glorfindel said. "Nimrodel and Mithrellas will carry the maidens while Daeron and I will carry Adam and Caleb. Everyone else stay close. Elladan, you take point. Elrohir make sure no one lags behind." With that he bent down and lifted Caleb onto his back and the other children were easily lifted as well, though Adam protested that he was too big to be carried. Daeron assured him that he was no burden and proceeded to walk on top of the snow to prove it, which astounded the Mortals who were forced to trudge through it. Luckily it wasn’t too deep along the road which was protected by the surrounding woods.

"So, why did you not go all the way to the grotto?" Glorfindel asked Zach, who was walking beside him. "It’s only a little further on."

"We couldn’t see where we were going or how far we had come," Zach explained, "and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find the path. The kids were having a hard time so I decided the safest thing to do was to build a shelter."

"The safest thing would have been to stay with the van," Glorfindel retorted.

"Ms Henderson thought otherwise," Zach said with a scowl. "At least I was able to convince them to stop and seek shelter. I had the kids help which kept them warm."

"You did a good job," Glorfindel said. "You obviously were listening when Paul was giving that particular lecture." He smiled at the young man.

"Hey!"

They stopped at the sound of Elladan’s shout. The ellon had loped ahead to find the path and now was returning. "What is it?" Glorfindel demanded.

"I thought Fred said there was no one at the grotto," Elladan replied, "but the path is lit. Those candles should have gone out long before this."

Glorfindel shrugged, having no answer. "Then at least it will be easy to find our way," he said and they went on.

The path was indeed lit with candles and clear of snow. Glorfindel and the others put the children down so they could walk and they made their way to the clearing where they found the torches lit. Not having any other choice in the matter, Glorfindel indicated that he would go in first. Stooping to clear the lintel he made his way into the grotto to find it lit and occupied.

"Welcome, my children, welcome," came a deep voice, rich and warm in its tone, a voice Glorfindel recognized.

The ellon blinked in confusion and shock even as the others made their way in with Zach and Caleb coming to stand beside him. He heard gasps from more than one throat, but his attention was fixed on the couple standing before him on the dais. The male wore a floor-length coat of red and gold brocade in a floral pattern with wide sleeves. A hood lay on the back trimmed with ermine, as were the sleeves and the hem and front, which was open, revealing a deep red velvet tunic underneath that fell to just below the knees. The hem and placket were trimmed with gold thread in a Celtic knotwork pattern. Pearls were sewn inside each knot. Black leather boots disappeared under the tunic’s hem and a black leather belt cinched his waist. His hair was not white but a rich chestnut brown, nor did he have a beard. On his head was a wreath of holly and ivy. His eyes were a deep blue ringed around the pupils with gold.

And sitting calmly on his left shoulder was a snowy owl gazing at them unblinkingly.

The female wore a sleeveless overgown with a high waist and flowing skirts of the same red brocade as the male’s robe. The neckline was off the shoulder revealing the red velvet undergown which had sleeves tight to the wrist with pearl buttons from wrist to elbow. The undergown’s neckline was also trimmed with gold thread in the same Celtic knotwork pattern with pearls inside the knots. The hem, large armholes and neck of the overgown were trimmed with ermine. Her dark hair was crowned with a wreath of balsam bestrewn with red ribbons and four white candles which cast a warm glow about her.

Both figures were smiling warmly as the Elves and Mortals huddled together before them, staring at them in awe.

"Welcome, children," the male said again. "We’ve been waiting for you."

"M-my Lord Manwë? Lady Varda?" Glorfindel finally whispered, shock and disbelief written large upon his face.

"Glorfindel, my son, it is good to see you again," Manwë said warmly, a twinkle in his eyes as if he were sharing a joke with the Elf.

Then Glorfindel did something that none of the other Elves had ever seen him do. Instinctively he went to his knees, giving the couple before them his obeisance. Everyone else stayed where they were. The Mortals, of course, were clueless and fidgeted somewhat nervously, not sure what was happening. The other Elves were simply stunned into immobility at the sight of the proud Elf-lord on his knees.

"Now, now, none of that," the Elder King chided gently. "Up you get, son. You’re frightening the little ones."

Glorfindel rose somewhat reluctantly, feeling confused and disoriented. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined this scenario and he was at a loss as to understand what it all meant. Manwë, meanwhile, turned to Varda.

"Perhaps, my dear, some refreshments are in order," he said and the Queen of Stars nodded.

"I’ll just go see what’s keeping Olórin, shall I?" she said somewhat coyly as she stepped down from the dais, giving Glorfindel a wink when the ellon started at the name.

Manwë laughed at the interplay between his Spouse and Glorfindel and then gestured. Nearly everyone gasped when chairs cushioned with red velvet suddenly appeared. "Please sit and make yourselves comfortable," he said even as he sat on the throne behind him, the owl fluttering up to perch on the back. The Mortals hesitantly took their seats; Zach putting Caleb on his knees. The Elves were even more reluctant, but when Glorfindel took one of the chairs, they, too, sat. Presently, Varda returned with another, both bearing trays with steaming cups of mulled cider for the children and wine for the adults. Glorfindel just stared at the newcomer who wore a white floor-length tunic over which was a dark green velvet sideless surcoat belted at the waist with gold braid. On the front of the surcoat was embroidered, not the expected eagle that was Manwë’s emblem, but a snowy owl in flight. The newcomer gave the ellon a warm smile.

"It has been a long time, hasn’t it, my friend?" Olórin said.

Glorfindel could only nod as he took the proffered cup. The Maia then turned to where the Twins were sitting. "Good to see you both as well," he said.

"Do... do we know you... sir?" Elladan asked.

"Ah, how soon they forget," Olórin said with a shake of his head. "Do you two still insist that it was Legolas who managed to misplace Glorfindel’s second-best sword?"

Now the Twins just stared at him in wide-eyed wonder. "Mi-mithrandir?" Elrohir whispered.

"The one and only," the Maia said with a laugh as he handed the ellon a cup of wine.

Then Manwë spoke, not to the Elves but to the Mortals. "You must forgive us, my children. Some of us have not seen each other in a very long time."

"Is you Santa?" Caleb suddenly demanded, his brows furrowed. "You don’ look like Santa."

"Caleb!" his mother admonished, clearly embarrassed, but Manwë merely waved his hand in dismissal.

"It’s quite all right, my dear. Come here, child," he said and Caleb reluctantly climbed down from his perch on Zach and made his way to the throne. Manwë picked him up and set him on his knee.

"You are correct, little one," the Elder King said. "I am not Santa. I am, however, a very good friend of his. He wanted me to tell you and your brother and sisters that he knows how difficult it has been for you this past year and he knows you have all tried very hard to be good. He is very proud of you and so am I." Then he gave the boy a kiss on his forehead. "But come, let us speak of why you are here." He turned to Glorfindel. "I see you took Estë’s advice to heart. I am glad."

"Estë?" Glorfindel echoed, trying to grasp what the Elder King was saying, and then he recalled a certain conversation in a café. "Esther," he whispered, his universe doing a sickening right turn as certain truths became self-evident. Manwë nodded. "And... and Nate?" the ellon asked.

"Ah... that was Námo," Manwë answered with a twinkle in his eyes and Glorfindel found himself shaking for no particular reason. Olórin was beside him immediately and placed a hand lightly on his head.

"Take a deep breath, child," the Maia said gently, "and let it out slowly. That’s it. Again. Good. Feeling better?" Glorfindel nodded.

"We have been watching all of you," Manwë said to the Elves, "and we are pleased with what we have seen."

"Watching..." Glorfindel said, his eyes narrowing. "In the woods...."

Manwë nodded. "Yes."

"Who...?"

"Can you not guess?" Varda asked with a faint smile as she joined Lord Manwë on the dais where another throne appeared. Somehow the dais was able to accommodate both thrones even though it was no larger than before. "It was Oromë. Who else would be able to waken the trees but the Lord of Forests? Did you not sense that?"

Eyebrows went up at that revelation, but before anyone could respond to Varda’s words, Manwë spoke again. "I know losing your jobs and having to start all over again...."

"You know about that?" Daeron interjected and then paled as he realized he’d just interrupted the Elder King of Arda and Eru’s vice-gerent.

Manwë laughed. "Oh yes, for we arranged for all this to happen."

"I don’t understand," Glorfindel said. "You mean Elf Academy was your idea?"

"No," Manwë replied. "That was the doing of Mortals, but when we learned of it, we decided to take advantage of the situation and arranged for all of you to attend."

"But why?" Glorfindel asked, still confused.

Now Manwë’s expression became more solemn. "The Dagor Dagorath is nigh," he said quietly.

There were startled gasps from all the Elves and confused looks from the Mortals. Manwë nodded. "Nigh but not yet. You six have been chosen to prepare the Mortals who will listen and take heed. It is time for them to remember what has been forgotten in the long ages since Men and Elves walked together. That is what the Elf Academy will ultimately be about. Not preparing people to be Elf Guides, but to be warriors."

"We... we were going to go to Finland," Daeron said, his tone bleak. Glorfindel suddenly realized that of all of them, only the minstrel seemed to have invested a great deal of himself in seeing their plans realized. He was not sure why that was so. The others, himself included, were willing to go along but it was not an overriding need.

Manwë gave Daeron a sympathetic smile. "You would have had to start from scratch and build up your infrastructure. Here, though, it is already in place. All you have to do is... um... take over." He gave them a sly wink and Glorfindel suddenly burst out laughing.

"We’ve been doing that from the beginning," he said, "though not for the same reasons as you have stated."

"I know," Manwë said. "We have been highly amused by it all."

Glorfindel now sobered. "Amused. Yes, I am sure you have been."

"No, son," the Elder King chided gently. "Do not take that attitude. There is too much at stake here."

"So, what are we supposed to do when we, as you say, take over the Academy?" Nimrodel asked in the brief silence that filled the grotto.

"Pretty much as you originally planned," Manwë said, "but with this difference: you and others will begin teaching the Mortals the true history of Arda and their place in Ilúvatar’s plans, for we will need as many allies as we can find when once the Final Battle begins. Our Fallen Brother’s spirit has left its mark in the minds and hearts of most Mortals, but there are still some few who will heed us who are the Guardians of Arda. It will be your task to awaken within them hope, hope that many have lost, believing evil has overcome good."

"Others?" Glorfindel enquired, a glimmer of hope welling up within him.

"Yes," Varda spoke then. "You thought you were the last of your kind on these shores, but that is not true. Others still abide here in Middle-earth, believing that they, too, are alone. It will be up to you to find them and recruit them for the Academy. It is time for the Elves to rise again and become the teachers of the Secondborn that they were always meant to be."

"How?" Daeron asked. "How do we find them?"

"I am sure you will find a way to contact them," Manwë replied with confidence.

There was a long pause. The Mortals had remained quiet, instinctively sensing that the conversation did not involve them. Glorfindel was about to ask a question when Caleb, who had not been sitting very still for the last few minutes suddenly spoke up, his voice somewhat pained and anxious. "Baffwoom, mama. Go pee-pee."

That seemed to break whatever spell lay over them. Nicole looked mortified but Manwë merely laughed. "Olórin, will you do the honors?" he asked as he put the child down.

The Maia bowed and held out his hand to the child. "Of course, my lord. Come, young Caleb. I will show you where you may go."

The boy gave his mother an anxious look but when she nodded, he took the Maia’s hand readily enough and the two went behind the screens. Glorfindel then asked his question. "How long?"

"I do not know," came the reply. "None of us do, not even Námo, but the signs are there and we know it will be soon. How soon, not even we who call all times soon can say. It may be that the children of this generation will see it, or it may not come for another hundred years, but it is coming and so we must prepare."

"A hundred years," Elladan said. "That leaves us little time. I think you are leaving things a little late, lord."

"All is as Ilúvatar has counseled me in my heart and I but follow His decrees," Manwë answered. "You already have a core group of Mortals who will help you. The people of Wiseman know of you now. They will be the vanguard. Eventually, Northern Lights Community College will have a completely different focus and the Elf Academy will be at its center. It will not happen overnight, but it will happen. It must, if we are to have any chance of succeeding against what comes."

"So what do we do?" Glorfindel asked.

"Do as you originally planned," Varda answered. "Be Elf Guides for the next month. We will be arranging matters so that you will be given certain families to guide. Reveal yourselves to them and to no others. After the New Year, you and those running the Elf Academy will begin modifying the curriculum. When the next class commences, they will still be Elf Guides for the tourist industry, but they will be something more. They will be the seeds of hope that are sown in secret."

"All done," Caleb exclaimed as he ran back into the main chamber and the adults all smiled indulgently as he climbed into his mother’s arms.

"And so are we," Manwë said as he and Varda stood. Glorfindel and the Elves hastily got to their feet and the Mortals followed. The Elder King gave them all a beatific smile. "Go back to the road. You will find the van waiting and the road to the highway clear. My People have been very busy while we have been having our little chat."

"Wh-what about us?" Zach suddenly asked, indicating the other Mortals. "Wh-where do we fit in?"

"Did not Lord Glorfindel name you an Elf-friend?" Manwë asked and Zach nodded, surprised that this person knew about that. "You will learn in time what that means, but for now, you and the other Mortals who have befriended these six Elves will have an important role to play in the near future. It was no coincidence that any of you applied and were accepted to the Academy. Now, go with our blessing and with the blessing of the One. Olórin will see you safely to the van."

Glorfindel and the other Elves gave Manwë and Varda their obeisance and the Mortals clumsily followed suit. As they filed out of the grotto with the Maia leading the way, Caleb, holding Zach’s hand, turned and waved. "Bye-bye."

Manwë and Varda smiled. "Farewell, child," Manwë said. Glorfindel was the last to leave, pausing before the entrance, giving Manwë and Varda a considering look. The owl was back on Manwë’s shoulder.

"Your gwador is very proud of you," Manwë said without preamble. "He is anxiously awaiting the day when you and he will be reunited once again. Until then, child, be the Elf-lord that you are and that this world needs. Be my vice-gerent here in Middle-earth even as I am Ilúvatar’s."

Glorfindel nodded and gave the Elder King a low bow. "I live to serve," he stated formally.

"As do we all," Manwë replied and then he and Varda were no longer there and Glorfindel was left alone. Varda’s throne and the chairs were also gone. All was as it must have been when the Mortals playing Santa and Mrs. Claus had left earlier that afternoon. With a sigh he stooped down and made his way outside where everyone else was gathered.

Olórin was holding one of the torches that had been burning beside the entrance and silently he led the way back down the path, now dark, for the candles were all burned out. They eventually reached the road leading to the Steiner Farm. At the entrance of the turn-off they found the van looking no worse for wear, pointing towards the main highway. Olórin stopped and gave them a short bow. "Here I will leave you. Take the highway back to Wiseman. You will find that the road is passable, though care must still be taken. Farewell, my friends. I am sure we will meet again soon." And then, the Maia simply wasn’t there.

The Mortals gasped and the Elves gave one another considering looks. "Let’s get the children buckled up," Glorfindel said.

"We’ll make better time going cross country," Elladan said, indicating himself and his twin.

"We’ll stop at the Steiner’s and let them know everyone is safe," Elrohir added. "I still want to get that recipe from Ellen."

"Mithrellas and I will go as well," Nimrodel said. "There’s not enough room in the van for all of us anyway."

Glorfindel nodded. "You will reach Wiseman before we do. Go to the Grange Hall and let them know we’re coming. I don’t know about anyone else, but I could use a good hot meal right about now."

No one had any objections to that and the four Elves set off, lightly running over the snow as Glorfindel and Daeron helped to get everyone else into the van while Ralph got into the driver’s seat and turned the key over. The van started up immediately, much to their relief. Five minutes later they were on their way.

****

Words are Sindarin.

Craban: A kind of crow of large size, a raven.

Gwador nîn: My (sworn) brother.





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