23: Reassessing the Situation

Sunday, Alex woke to an entirely different world from the one he knew before.

Elves!

He lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, mulling over all that he’d learned the previous night. He wanted to think it was a dream, but in his gut he knew differently. All the pieces were falling into place: their ethereal beauty, the glowing, the seemingly effortless motions, the sense of ancientness whenever he looked into their eyes. It all made sense now. And Ambrose, or rather, Amroth....

He spent a little time analyzing the past, remembering his first encounter with the man he knew as Ambrose Elwood who hid a dark secret. He remembered the exacting, often harsh lessons and the myriad small kindnesses, the camaraderie and even the love that was shared between them. Ambrose had been the father Alex had never known. What he was now, he wasn’t quite sure.

Checking the time, he realized that it was quite late, nearly ten o’clock. Getting up, he went and took his shower, lingering longer than usual, allowing the hot water to wash away his doubts and fears and concerns. Knowing the truth changed everything and nothing and he needed to deal with that, for all their sakes, but especially Amroth’s.

Coming downstairs, he wandered into the kitchen to find most of the residents already there and stopped at the doorway, feeling suddenly shy and... unworthy. Glorfindel, standing by the stove with a spatula in his hand as he flipped some pancakes, looked over and gave him a warm smile.

"Good morning. How did you sleep?"

"What did you do to me?" Alex couldn’t help countering. "Was that... um... elf magic or something you pulled on me last night?"

Glorfindel’s smile slipped and Alex could feel the others becoming tense. "I did nothing, other than to help you relax so you could sleep," he said stiffly.

Alex had the grace to blush, realizing he’d been rude. "Sorry. This is all too new for me and I’m not sure which way I’m supposed to go or how to act anymore." And then, hoping to diffuse the tension a little more, he gave them a wicked grin. "With singing like that, I’m surprised you don’t have every mother in Wiseman demanding your services."

Glorfindel laughed and the others snickered. "Not for lack of trying, I assure you," the Elf-lord said as he transferred a couple of pancakes into a warming tray before pouring more batter on the griddle. "Now, come sit and have breakfast. Sundays are about the only day we bother to go all out. Afterwards, you’re free to return to the college. Derek and the others will be back around four."

"There are some things that haven’t been resolved yet," Alex said, taking a seat in the breakfast nook. It wasn’t large enough for everyone to sit but some were gathered around the kitchen island or simply standing beside a counter, balancing a plate in their hands as they ate. "I don’t think I should leave until they are."

"And what things are they?" Amroth asked.

"For one thing, we never figured out why I freaked out last night when Dar... I mean Daeron and... er... sorry, I’ve forgotten your name," he said apologetically to Holly.

"It’s Ercassë, which is the Quenya form," the elleth answered readily enough. "It’s alright to call me Holly. That’s just a translation."

"Er... thanks. Anyway, I’d like to know why I was... um... channeling this Beren dude, if that’s what was happening."

"It is odd that he remembers what he experienced while listening to Daeron singing at the Blue Petrel," Vorondur said, stroking his chin, "yet has no memory of last night. I wasn’t there, so what exactly did you sing, do you remember?" This last was directed at Daeron, who shrugged.

"I started out with the hymn to Elbereth that Glorfindel likes so much and then sang the Ainulindalë and then went on to sing about the creation of the Silmarils and the revolt of the Noldor, but I didn’t sing about Beren or Lúthien. In fact, the last song was about Amroth and Nimrodel in honor of their second wedding anniversary, which was that night as you may recall."

Alex gave Amroth a disbelieving look. "It was your second wedding anniversary and you celebrated it by bringing your wife to a bar? Are you insane?"

The laughter that followed was long and loud. Amroth wrapped an arm around Nimrodel’s shoulders, giving her a loving kiss on her cheek before answering Alex. "It was her idea," he said with a wink and Nimrodel smirked.

"Well, getting back to our discussion," Vorondur said before Alex could muster a retort, "you’re sure you did not sing anything pertaining to Beren?"

Daeron nodded and those who’d been there did as well.

"So, Alex was caught up in the songs but not to the point of losing his own identity as he seemed to do last night," Vorondur summarized, looking thoughtfully at Alex, who tried not to squirm under his regard.

"And don’t forget his nightmares," Glorfindel said. "We still haven’t addressed them properly."

Vorondur nodded. "Those are of a more immediate concern. With your permission, Alex, I would like to set up some counseling sessions so you and I can explore what’s happening to you."

Alex sighed. "I don’t need a shrink, I just need answers, and quite frankly, we’ve got much bigger problems than my nightmares." He gave Amroth a significant look. "You and I need to figure out what we’re going to do next."

"Do you have any ideas?" Amroth asked.

"No. I was hoping you would. I’m still trying to get my mind around the fact that I’m sitting here in the middle of Alaska eating pancakes with a bunch of dudes who are older than Moses."

The Elves smiled at that. Before Amroth could respond, Glorfindel spoke. "I agree that we need to address the reason that brought you here in the first place, Alex, but I think the more important thing is to help you. Ron is correct. Your nightmares should be our primary concern. When you leave here, there’s no guarantee that they won’t resurface and it’s impossible to ward you properly at the Academy."

Alex frowned. "Let’s wait on that then, see how I do tonight when I’m back at the Academy. I’ll warn Derek that I’m still having nightmares about the tarn so if I wake screaming he’ll understand what’s happening. And if I continue having them, then I’ll agree to seeing you." He directed the last statement at Vorondur, who nodded.

"So that just leaves us with the mystery of you apparently channeling our ancestor," Elrohir said.

"Well, unless someone starts singing about him, I doubt I’ll be adversely affected," Alex said. "And I’m not into reincarnation, so I doubt that’s what it is."

"You don’t look like him," Daeron said, "at least not in any obvious way. Your hair is too light, for one thing."

"It’s a dye job, actually," Alex said with a smirk. "My normal hair color is a darker brown."

"But you still don’t look like him," Daeron countered. "Of course, that doesn’t necessarily prove anything, genetics being what it is. Still, it is strange that you would be affected the way you were. I’d like to explore that with you, if you’re willing."

"I guess, but you all seem to be missing the point," Alex said, pointing at Amroth. "I have orders to terminate him if I can’t bring him back into the fold, as it were. That problem still exists and if it were just me, there are things I could do to convince the Powers That Be that the man they know as Ambrose Elwood is not a threat to their security, but we have Farrell to deal with and as much a pain-in-the-neck as he is, he’s very dangerous. He may have seemed innocuous as an accreditation examiner, but don’t let that fool you. He’s a trained agent."

"I will not go into hiding again," Amroth insisted. "This is my home now and I have no intention of leaving it. For the first time in more years than you can conceive, I’m with my own people again and I won’t lose that."

"I know but we still need to deal with Farrell and ultimately with Maddy Washburn who apparently has no faith in me if she brought Farrell into the picture."

"Well, we’re not going to solve this problem immediately," Glorfindel pointed out, "so let’s just enjoy our pancakes and leave the rest for later."

To that the others agreed. As he was sipping his coffee, Alex turned to Barry. "My intelligence tells me that you, Conan, Gil, Alfa and Daisy arrived in Wiseman at the same time, but before that you weren’t even living near each other. Gil was in Tennessee and Daisy was in Chicago and you were somewhere in the Southwest on some archeological dig."

"That’s my area of interest," Barahir said, "recovering the past."

"I know," Alex said with a nod. "So were you really there when Carter found King Tut’s tomb?"

The ellon raised an eyebrow. "How...?"

"They found an old photo of you with Carter at the dig," Alex answered with a grin, then, seeing the genuine confusion in Barry’s eyes, went on to explain. "It’s a computer program known as a global identification search. You feed the computer a photo and then it searches every conceivable source to match the photo with others. Of course, those running the program didn’t realize that Bartholomew Woods and Barry Underwood were one and the same, only that there were similarities between you two. I suspect anyone else would just assume Bartholomew Woods was an ancestor of yours."

For a long moment, no one spoke and most of the Elves had thoughtful looks on their faces. Finally, Barahir stirred. "It is true that in recent years the five of us haven’t lived near one another as we pursued our own interests, but that was not always the case. After the War of Wrath we all settled in Lindon, but Alfa and I eventually followed Lord Oropher east where we settled in Eryn Lasgalen. Conan, Eirien and Gil remained in Lindon but eventually migrated to Eregion and then later to Lothlórien, following in the train of the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. After the Ring War, Alfa and I joined Prince Legolas in founding the Elven colony in Ithilien. When Lothlórien was abandoned, the other three joined us there, for they had no desire to live in Imladris."

He paused for a moment, his eyes dark with memory. "At first relations between us and the Men of Gondor were warm and friendly, but after Prince Legolas sailed to the West, things began to cool between our two peoples. When the ice began to encroach, those of us who had decided not to sail, headed south, but we traveled through Khand and then beyond to what I suppose would be southern Iraq or even Iran today. The geography has changed so much in the millennia, it’s difficult to tell anymore.

"Anyway, we remained in that area for some time along with many others, though we were not that numerous and hid in the mountains where Mortals were not likely to find us. When the ice retreated, those who were still with us began to disperse, but we five, for some reason, decided to stick together. Eventually, after many, many millennia we made our way to this continent. I had become an archeologist even before the term was ever coined, so when we came to America, it was natural for me to join the archeologists who were rediscovering the ancient native cultures here. The others found other interests and we sort of went our separate ways, but we always got together at least once a year to celebrate our friendship and share our adventures with each other."

"So how did any of you know to come here in the first place?" Alex asked. "That’s something I’ve not been able to figure out."

"You can blame Daeron," Vorondur said with a grin. "Have you ever seen the Elf Academy website?"

Alex shook his head.

"Hang on. I’ll go get my laptop," Elrohir said and he left the kitchen. The breakfast table was cleared of dishes and Alex poured himself a second cup of coffee while they were waiting. Within a couple of minutes Elrohir returned with his laptop, setting it on the table and switching it on. After a minute he connected with the internet and called up a particular website, then shifted the laptop so Alex could see.

"That’s... Sindarin," he said after staring at the screen for a long moment. "All those squiggles around the border, those are tengwar, aren’t they?"

"Can you read any of it?" Glorfindel asked.

Alex shook his head. Glorfindel leaned over his shoulder and pointed to the upper left of the screen. "Start here and work your way across and down." Alex squinted at the screen and silently mouthed the letters, trying to remember what he’d learned in class. Writing tengwar was not something they were actually doing yet, merely learning their shapes and values.

"Uh... this word is tolo. That means ‘come’ but I’m not sure about the rest."

"It is indeed a message to any who can read it, informing them that fellow Elves have taken residence here in Wiseman and inviting them to join us," Daeron explained.

"And somehow you all saw this website and came," Alex said. "Do you really think you’re the last of your kind here?"

"We don’t know," Glorfindel said. "We’ve been assured that others are out there and that somehow they will find us, we just don’t know when."

"Assured by whom?"

"Ah.... well, that’s rather hard to explain," Glorfindel replied. "Why don’t we finish clearing up the breakfast things and save that for another day’s discussion? I think you and Amroth and I need to sit down and discuss what happens next. You’ll be gong back to the Academy in a little while and I want certain things resolved before that."

"I would join you, if I may," Vorondur said somewhat formally.

"And I would welcome your insight," Glorfindel responded with equal formality. "The rest of you, continue with your own plans for the day. If we come to any hard conclusions, we’ll let you know at dinner."

There were nods all around. Alex helped load the dishwasher and then he, Glorfindel, Amroth and Vorondur went to the library and sat before the fire. For a while, no one spoke, each lost in his own thoughts. Alex kept stealing glances at the three Elves, seeing them all in a wholly different light.

"Who else knows about you being Elves?" Alex finally asked.

"Everyone at the mansion last night, except for Mrs. Becker, knows who we are, as well as most of the people of Wiseman and the college administration, but the majority of the students do not, at least, not yet. We reveal ourselves to a few whom we feel we can trust with our secret."

Alex nodded. "I notice everyone defers to you," he said, "even Ambrose... er... I mean, Amroth, but you’re not a king, are you?"

Glorfindel grinned. "Far from it," he replied, "but of all of us, I’m the only one who remembers the Two Trees, and unlike any of the others, I’m the only one to have died and lived to tell about it."

"Excuse me?"

"You surely have covered the Fall of Gondolin in your history class, haven’t you?" Glorfindel countered.

Alex nodded dumbly, and then gasped at the implications of the Elf’s statement. "Wait! You’re that Glorfindel? But...."

"Elves are immortal, or perhaps not so much immortal as very long-lived. Only the Valar and the Maiar are true immortals, for they cannot die as we know death, though they can become so diminished as to make no difference. We Elves suffer neither old age nor disease and so in the normal course of things, we continue living, but we can be killed or die of grief. However, unlike Mortals, our lives are bound to the life of Arda, to this Earth. As long as the world exists, we will, so when we die, we do not leave its circles as you Mortals eventually do, but must remain. For a time, we dwell in Mandos where we are purged of our sins, if you like, and then, at some point, we are re-embodied and sent to rejoin the Living, taking up our lives once again. Such people are known as the Reborn, and so I am."

"Must be nice," was all Alex could think to say.

Glorfindel gave him a brilliant smile. "At any rate, my unique history gives me precedence over even Amroth, though, technically speaking, I have no right to dictate to him, or any of the others for that matter. Daeron, for instance, is even older than I am, but he prefers to follow where I lead."

"So, getting back to the purpose of this meeting," Amroth said, "how do you think we should proceed?"

"Farrell is the sticking point," Alex said. "If he weren’t in the picture, I could do things to convince the Agency that you’re not a threat and to leave you alone, but with Farrell here, I’m not sure what we can do short of taking him out. Unfortunately, as much as I would love to do that, it’s not really an option and he’s not the only agent around. I have a list of emails of other agents who’ve been put in place. I don’t know who they are and I’ve been given strict orders not to contact them unless absolutely necessary, as in the ‘it’s-the-end-of-the-world’ necessary."

"And, as I said before, we still don’t know who sent you the photos in the first place," Glorfindel said.

Alex nodded. "And as I said, under other circumstances, they would’ve been ignored, but whether it was planned or it was just happenstance, the inclusion of Amroth’s photo made that impossible."

"We think that you were meant to come here," Amroth said quietly. "If you had not had that photo of me you would have no reason to come here."

"I know, and that’s been troubling me," Alex admitted. "Is there another purpose for all of you being here, other than to teach us how to be Christmas elves?"

"There is," Glorfindel said, "but, again, it’s too complicated to go into right now. Can you trust me enough when I say that our reasons are benign and that we are no threat to the Mortals or their societies?"

"I think I will reserve judgment on that for now," Alex said carefully.

"Fair enough," Glorfindel replied. "I hope in time you will come to trust us and ally yourself with us. We need you, Alex. We need your skills and your connections. You are not here by chance."

"In the meantime, what can we do?" Vorondur asked, speaking for the first time.

"First of all, we need to identify all the players," Alex said. "I need to figure a way to learn the identities of the other agents."

"How will you do this without alerting anyone?" Glorfindel asked.

"Well, as I said before, I have my methods," Alex retorted with a grin.

"Then I will leave it to you to ferret out the information. We have some leads of our own that we are pursuing. Once we have something solid to go on, we can talk about it."

"If I may suggest," Vorondur said, "sometime this week Alex, Amroth and I should sit down and construct a psychological profile on Farrell. We won’t be able to get any specifics, since none of us know him personally, but if he’s been trained in the same school as you two have been, then there are commonalities upon which we can draw to get an idea of how he may react. It would help to know just what we’re dealing with where Farrell is concerned."

"Sounds good," Alex said as Amroth nodded in agreement. "In the meantime, I think I’d better go pack and head back to the Academy," Alex said.

"I’ll give you a lift," Glorfindel said. "I have to go there anyway and finish up some paperwork."

Alex nodded and the meeting broke up. Fifteen minutes later, he and Glorfindel were on their way.

"Here are our cell phone numbers," Glorfindel said to Alex when they reached the Academy, fishing out a slip of paper with names and phone numbers written on it.

"Thanks. I think you have mine on file." Glorfindel nodded. "Well... um... thanks for the... uh... interesting weekend."

Glorfindel gave him a smile. "You’re most welcome."

They parted at the main entrance and Alex went to his room. He unpacked and then sat before his laptop, checking his email, smiling to see one from his mom, which he spent a few minutes answering, assuring her that he was well and enjoying visiting with his old friend. Afterwards, he sat, thinking of ways of learning the identities of the other agents whom the Agency had sent and was still mulling over the problem, not finding any real solution, when the door opened and Derek stepped in. Alex gave him a wide grin. "How was the camping?" he asked.

"Wet," came the reply. "How was your weekend?"

"Interesting," Alex responded.

"Well, let me unload my stuff and go take a nice hot shower and then maybe over dinner we can share each other’s adventures."

"Sounds good," Alex said as he shut down his laptop, thinking how he wouldn’t be able to tell his friend the truth of what he’d learned over the weekend.