58: Trial of the Three Amigos

Glorfindel watched dispassionately as Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen came out of the woods, their heads up high and looks of defiance on their young — oh so young — faces. Finrod’s expression was unreadable even to him and the faces of both Laurendil and Valandur were also blank of any real expression. He stole a glance at Derek and was not surprised to see naked hatred in the young Man’s eyes as he knelt beside Alex, now fast asleep, wrapped in several blankets. They would need to be moving soon, for the snow was coming down more heavily than before and both Mortals, but especially Alex, needed the warmth of the fire. First, though....

No words were spoken between them. Finrod merely gestured to the three youngsters to lead the way and then, without any hesitation, stooped down to pick Alex up in his arms. Glorfindel made to take him from his gwador, but Finrod shook his head and gave Derek a smile of encouragement, for the young Man eyed them all warily. The expressions on the faces of the young ellyn were ones of disbelief, quickly shuttered (though not quickly enough) and then they were silently leaving the valley with Glorfindel and Valandur on either side of Derek to give him a hand, for he was flagging and Glorfindel half suspected that they would end up having to carry him as well before they reached the camp. Laurendil aided Finrod around obstacles as they climbed the hill, steadying his lord, burdened as he was with Alex.

Once they cleared the hills and the woods and reached the fields, Glorfindel kept one hand on Derek’s arm to guide him for the snow was falling rapidly and it was doubtful Derek could see two feet in front of him. Even for the Elves, there was little for them to see through the blinding snowfall, but they had an innate sense of direction and knew just where to go to find the camp.

As he suspected, they were still about a league from the campsite when Derek stumbled and would’ve fallen on his face but for Glorfindel holding him up. Without a word, Valandur scooped him up into his arms and again Glorfindel did not dispute it, deciding that his friends needed to do something in atonement for the dereliction of their charges. Thus, they reached the camp and found a large fire going in spite of the snow and meat roasting on skewers over it. The tarp had been set up to provide protection and in short order, they had both Mortals underneath it, stripped of soggy clothes, and bundled up in drier ones. Derek had come out of his swoon by now and was sitting by the fire, huddled under several blankets and sipping on hot tea while Elladan and Elrohir hovered over Alex who had been placed inside his sleeping bag and brought as close to the fire as possible.

It was only then that anyone bothered to speak out loud.

"You know, Laurendil is more than capable of tending to young Alex," Finrod said to Glorfindel, speaking softly in Quenya, "or even Vardamir." He nodded to one of the Noldor standing over the Twins, his expression definitely one of professional interest, a healer watching other healers. All the Valinórean Elves had returned to the camp during the time they’d been out looking for the lost, and they looked soberly on as the Twins continued working on Alex.

"I know," Glorfindel said in the same language, "but Alex knows and trusts the Twins. He is more likely to respond favorably to them than to Laurendil or Vardamir, however competent as healers they may be. And, unlike them, the Twins have had extensive experience over the ages in treating Mortals and know what they can and cannot endure."

Finrod nodded, but before he could comment, Valandur joined them. "I’ve sent the youngsters to sit in your... carriage."

"It’s called a van," Glorfindel corrected with a smile.

Finrod gave him an amused look. "It is called a ‘goose’?" he asked, speaking English. "Whyever for?"

Glorfindel chuckled. "No, it is not a goose, you goose. ‘Van’ is the English word for it. It’s short for caravan, a vehicle that allows you to transport several people, more than a conventional car which usually can only transport about five people. A van can transport twice as many. It’s something like a carriage, but carriages are horse-drawn."

"At any rate, I have sent them to sit in the van for a time," Valandur said, also speaking English. "What wouldst thou do with them?" he asked Finrod.

"Besides sending them home, which is not possible?" he asked rhetorically. "Methinks we shall let them remain there for the night. You may have food sent to them and if they must needs relieve themselves, they may do so, but they remain in the van until I say elsewise. Until Alex has recovered, I will not pass judgment upon them. Methinks Alex should be there when I do."

"Fair enough," Valandur said, casting a concerned look at the still sleeping Mortal and at Derek, still huddled under the blankets, now munching on deer meat. He shook his head. "This was to be a happy reunion among friends," he said, now speaking Quenya again, "but I fear those elflings may have ruined it for us, at least where the Mortals are concerned. I saw the look on Derek’s face when our three youngsters finally showed up."

"Derek is very protective of Alex," Glorfindel said. "They have declared one another otornor and Alex has gone through much in the last few weeks. He is not fully recovered from his ordeal."

"How is he?"

They all turned to see Derek calling out to the Twins.

"He’s fine, Derek," Elladan said. "He’s merely sleeping. All his vitals are strong. He’ll be right as rain by the morning. We’re going to keep him here by the fire tonight. Now, let’s take a look at you."

"I’m fine," Derek protested even as the Twins moved to join him where he was sitting. "All I needed was something hot to eat. I’ll be even more fine once I’ve had a chance to wring the necks of those little brats for pulling such a stupid stunt. Alex was nearly frozen when we found him. He could very well have died. I could have died. I know I was going in circles before Loren found me. I couldn’t see the mountain for the snow and knew I was never going to make it to the camp alive." He sneezed just then. "Damn! And now I dink I haf a cold." He sounded so forlorn that Glorfindel couldn’t help smiling as he knelt in front of the Mortal.

"Let’s get you into your sleeping bag and then Dan or Roy will put you into healing sleep."

"Will it help my cold?" Derek asked.

"I’m sure you’ll feel much better in the morning."

"Okay, but don’t kill those brats while we’re sleeping. Alex and I want to watch."

"Thou hast my word, Derek Lowell, that no punishment shall be meted out before the morrow," Finrod said solemnly. "Thou and Alex have the right to be present and to hear what excuse my son and his gwedyr have for themselves."

"Okay," Derek said. "I just need to see a man about a tree and then I’ll go to bed."

"I’ll escort you, so you don’t lose your way," Elrohir said and the two sauntered off. While they were gone, Elladan retrieved Derek’s sleeping bag, laying it beside Alex and when the young Man returned, he snuggled into it. Elrohir sang softly over him and in minutes he was fast asleep.

****

By morning, the snow had stopped and the sun came up, casting a warm golden glow about them. Derek woke to the smell of bacon sizzling in a pan and was glad to see Alex stirring as well. "Good morning," he whispered as Alex opened his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry," Alex replied just as softly. "What happened?"

"We found you nearly frozen by the waterfall, but Dan and Roy say you should be fine. Are you?"

"I think so. I’ll know better once I’ve emptied my bladder and have had breakfast. Lord! What I wouldn’t give for a hot shower right now."

Derek chuckled. "You and me both. But c’mon. Let’s get ourselves cleaned up as best we can and have breakfast."

"What happened to the three amigos? Were they ever found?" Alex asked as he struggled out of his sleeping bag and looked for his boots which were sitting beside him. He casually strapped on the shoulder holster, which had been removed while he was asleep and placed beside his boots, taking out the gun and automatically checking its clip and the safety before shoving it back into the holster.

Derek’s expression darkened. "Yeah, they showed up. Larry’s dad is furious, though you would never know it from the way he acts, but you can see the fury in his eyes. I was told that they would wait until you were awake before they chewed out the brats." He flashed him a grin. "I ordered ringside seats for us both."

Alex grinned back as he stood. "Well, let’s not keep them waiting." He shrugged on his fleece jacket and made sure his head was covered before stepping out from under the tarp to be greeted by Vorondur, who gave him and Derek an appraising look. There was no one else in sight.

"You’d better hurry or those ringside seats will be taken," was all he said and both Mortals blushed, realizing that as softly as they’d been speaking, the Elf had still heard every word.

"C’mon, Alex," Derek said and going over to the tent, he retrieved their toiletry bags and a couple of towels and the two set off.

They were still finishing up their breakfast when the other Elves made an appearance. All of them smiled at the sight of the two Mortals sitting by the fire, drinking coffee and conversing readily enough with Vorondur, who’d volunteered to keep them company until Finrod was ready to hold the enquiry.

"You’re looking less blue," Glorfindel said to Alex, smiling as he approached them.

"No thanks to those orc-brained idiots who think they’re God’s gift to the rest of us," Alex groused. "Where are they, anyway?"

"In durance vile, for the moment," Glorfindel said soberly. "When you are ready, we will have them out and we can... discuss what occurred yesterday."

"Discuss... now that’s an interesting word," Derek said with a sneer. "Me, I’ll just settle for seeing those three having their bottoms tanned so they’re not able to sit for a week."

"If you have finished breaking your fast," Finrod said, "then we will proceed. They have been given the night to think over their misdeeds."

"And no doubt coming up with a plausible excuse," Alex retorted. "Well, let’s get it over with."

Derek sniffed. "Just let me refill my mug and I’m all set."

Finrod nodded to Laurendil and Valandur. "Let us have them out."

The two Elves headed for Glorfindel’s van while everyone else formed a silent ring around the fire. A minute or two later, Laurendil and Valandur returned with the three ellyn and Alex noted that they all looked somewhat bedraggled and less haughty.

As soon as they reached the campfire, Finrod gestured for them to stand to one side, opposite Alex and Derek so they were looking at one another across the fire. "Let us begin," he intoned solemnly and while he appeared no different to the eyes of the two Mortals, they both instinctively realized that it was not Finrod, Glorfindel’s friend and brother, who had spoken but Findaráto, Prince of Eldamar and once King of Nargothrond.

For a moment, no one spoke and Alex forced himself not to fidget, determined not to give these people, especially the three amigos, as he thought of them, the satisfaction. Then, Finrod turned to him and Derek. "Perhaps we will have your side of the story first," he said. Alex and Derek exchanged glances and shrugged almost as one, and then Derek gave him a nod. Resisting a sigh, he started to describe the journey to the valley. No one interrupted him, though all three of the young ellyn stirred slightly when he described the conversation they had had about walking on top of the snow. Finrod’s only comment was a raised eyebrow.

"So, anyway, when we got to the valley I know we were all standing together admiring the waterfall, but when I looked around, only Derek and I were there."

"What did you do?" Finrod asked.

"Had lunch," Alex replied with a shrug.

Several Elves blinked at the seeming non sequitur. Derek merely snorted in good humor as he took a sip of his coffee.

"You had... lunch," Finrod repeated slowly, as if he were not sure of the meaning of the words.

Alex nodded. "We figured they were just wandering around admiring the view, so Derek and I found a nice place to sit and ate, but then it was getting late and we could see the storm clouds building up and we knew it was time to leave. Only thing, Larry, Cal and Alan were still missing. We called to them...."

"And in Sindarin, no less," Derek interjected, speaking for the first time.

Alex nodded. "But they still didn’t answer."

"Thou didst name these three strangely," Valandur said.

Both Alex and Derek blushed. "Yeah, well, Larry, Cal and Alan are easier to say than Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen," Derek replied.

"Larry, Cal and Alan are common names among the Mortals of this society," Daeron said.

Glorfindel nodded in confirmation. "Though I think your son is more a Lawrence than a Larry. He’s far too serious," he said, flashing Finrod a grin.

"That’s what I said," Derek interjected before Finrod could respond. "But anyway, those were the names we thought of."

"And a worthy discussion for another time," Finrod said, giving them an amused look, which sobered almost immediately. "However, let us continue with this discussion. What steps did you take to find our sons?"

"When they didn’t show up, we split up," Alex continued, "and scoured the woods on either side, meeting where we had come down the hill into the valley. There was no sign of them."

"Yet, they were there," Finrod said, "hiding from you."

"Thou didst walk right past us," Findalaurë said with a sneer. "Thou dost not know much of woodlore to have missed us that wise."

"Á quildë!" Finrod hissed coldly, then spoke in a spate of Quenya that had all three ellyn blushing and paling at the same time. Alex noticed the grim looks on the faces of the other Elves. After a moment of silence as Finrod appeared to get himself under control, he turned to speak to the Mortals, his tone calm and impersonal.

"What happened next?"

"Not much," Derek said. "We decided I should go back to camp and get help while Alex stayed in the valley in case the three amigos finally showed up."

"Three what?" Laurendil asked, looking confused and Glorfindel actually burst out laughing while the other Wiseman Elves grinned.

"Three amigos," Daeron said, speaking as a loremaster. "Amigos is the Spanish word for friends, so the three friends. It is in reference, if I’m not mistaken, to a... um...story about three friends who are mistaken by others to be heroes when they are not, for up to then they had only pretended to be heroes." He paused, giving the three ellyn a significant look that did not escape anyone’s notice. Alex saw Findalaurë stiffen as if under a reprimand. "In the story," Daeron continued, "they eventually do become heroes, though more by accident than by design, a comedy of errors, you might say."

"Ah...." was Finrod’s only comment. He nodded. "We know Derek’s part in this for we met him wandering lost in the storm unable to find his way back to the camp. Had we not found him when we did, he could very well have died, but we must needs learn what happened in the valley with you, Alex."

"After Derek left, I tried to start a fire, but the wind kept blowing it out before I could really get it going no matter how I tried to shelter it and the snow just kept coming. When I was in the woods earlier I had noticed some fallen trees and I went there and made a sort of lean-to between two of the trees to protect myself. Then I sat there and waited."

"But we found you by the waterfall," Derek said.

Alex nodded. "At some point I... I guess I started to hallucinate. I could’ve sworn Amroth was right there in front of me, urging me to get up and move down to the valley, saying you wouldn’t find me otherwise."

"And we wouldn’t have, or rather, we would have eventually, but by then it would’ve been too late," Glorfindel said, casting a dark look upon the three ellyn.

There was a pause as everyone contemplated the import of Glorfindel’s words. Then Finrod said, "So, let us have your side of the story, my children."

Findalaurë apparently had been elected as spokesman for the three ellyn, for without hesitation, he spoke. "We did nothing wrong, Atto," he began, but Finrod cut him off with a cold look and the ellon blushed. "I mean... my lord," he amended.

"You hid from Alex and Derek and refused to answer their call," Laurendil said.

"We do not answer to Mortals," Findalaurë retorted. "We did not originally plan to hide, but when they called to us, we decided to have some fun with them. It was most amusing seeing them floundering about in the woods like clumsy orcs trying to find us."

"Why you...."

Derek had to physically restrain Alex, who had leapt to his feet, pushing him back down. It was an injudicious move on Alex’s part, for he suddenly started coughing and hacking deep in his lungs, his chest constricting and he hugged himself against the pain. Elrohir was immediately by his side with water, urging him to drink.

"I... I can’t...breathe... I...." Alex gasped, still clutching his ribs.

Laurendil and Vardamir moved almost as one, each laying a hand on Alex’s chest and forehead and they began singing. After five minutes, Alex’s breathing returned to normal and he sighed in relief, sagging against Derek’s shoulder. Derek put an arm around him, while Laurendil and Vardamir consulted with Elrohir and Elladan in softly spoken Sindarin.

Finrod stepped over to kneel beside the two Mortals. "Thine injuries from the avalanche still cause thee pain," he said solicitously.

"Bruised my ribs in the fall," Alex answered. "Bone bruises take forever to heal and it’s hard to take a deep breath."

"Getting himself half frozen to death didn’t help," Derek added with a frown.

"And for that, I am sorry," Finrod said quietly.

"Not your fault," Alex said, then suffered another coughing spell, though this one was not as strong and he recovered almost immediately. He leaned against Derek and closed his eyes. "Please don’t let me come down with bronchitis or pneumonia," he whispered. "I can’t deal with that."

Elrohir came and stood over him, handing him more water. "I promise, we won’t let that happen. Now, keep breathing normally and don’t do anything sudden."

Alex just nodded, accepting the water and drinking it slowly. Finrod, meanwhile, stood, his expression becoming colder than the snow lying about them.

"I cannot believe that I sacrificed myself for a Mortal only to have my own son, and the sons of my kin, dishonor that sacrifice by their ill treatment of one of Beren’s descendants."

"Was it worth it?" Findalaurë retorted, glowering at Alex and Derek.

"Excuse me?" Finrod said in a whisper, paling. The other Elves acting as witnesses all stirred and there were looks of disbelief on more than one face.

Findalaurë looked up at his father. "Was it worth it, my lord? All my life, I have heard the tales of how you gave up everything for one of them." He nodded towards Alex and Derek and Derek kept his arm firmly around Alex’s shoulders to prevent him from jumping up again. Finrod’s son continued speaking. "In my mind it seemeth that these Mortals were great of stature, worthy to be called heroes alongside those of our own people, worthy to fight alongside us in the coming war. Yet, when we come here, what do we find?" He sneered at the Mortals. "They seem not to be so very great after all."

Both Alex and Derek paled in mortification and anger, but they held their peace, knowing that this was something that had to be dealt with by Finrod, who gave the three ellyn a cold look. "And so, disappointed that thy fantasy did not live up to reality, thou didst decide to treat Alex and Derek with contempt, even to the point of endangering their very lives. But thou knowest as good as thy name — which is fool" — the three ellyn flinched — "all that I have taught thee of Mortals, that while they may be weaker than us physically, they have strengths of will that compensate and make them worthy of our respect. Didst thou forget all my teachings, my son, in thine arrogance?" He paused for a second, glancing at Alex and Derek, the only ones sitting, both of them huddled as close to the fire as they could, looking indeed weak in comparison to the Elves surrounding them. He smiled at them, though they did not see, for they were both glaring at the ground by their feet.

"I would gladly give my life again for the Mortals of this time," Finrod said softly.

"Well, you might be happy to do so," Glorfindel said with a snort of amusement, "but I doubt Lord Námo would be pleased to see your sorry fëa cluttering up his doorstep again."

Finrod turned to Glorfindel, giving him an arch look. "And you, Brother?"

"Oh, I’d be right there beside you, giving the Lord of Mandos grief," Glorfindel said. "You’re not the only one who can be noble and willing to sacrifice himself, even for a Mortal."

"That wasn’t the impression I got when Derek and I showed up at Edhellond Sunday," Alex couldn’t help saying, casting Glorfindel a wry look.

Glorfindel blushed. "Not one of my finest moments, I know."

Alex waved a hand in dismissal. "We all make mistakes. The trick is to learn from them." He cast a significant look at the three ellyn, none of whom was willing to meet his gaze.

"Aye, there is the rub," Laurendil said with a nod. "Mistakes are made, ofttimes costly ones, but if we deign to learn from them, then we have done what is needful. Ye three think yourselves warriors simply because of your training and the fact that you are allowed to carry weapons, but I say unto you, no warrior would have acted as you have, callously watching another slowly freeze to death. No warrior would have treated even an enemy with such disregard. I cannot speak for either Finrod or Valandur, but as for myself, I think I will hold onto thy sword for a time, Calandil, until thou hast proven thyself worthy of it in mine eyes."

Calandil paled and the other two looked concerned.

"A worthy punishment," Finrod said with a nod. "Yes. In fact, I shall go one better and give thy sword to Alex, my son, for his safekeeping and it will be for him to decide if thou art full worthy of wearing it."

"And I will give thy sword to Derek," Valandur said, speaking to Elennen. "When he decideth thou’rt worthy of bearing weapons again, then thou mayest have thy sword back."

"Is this agreeable to you both?" Finrod asked the Mortals.

"Well, I don’t think I want to have to figure out how to hide a sword in my room," Alex said, "but if you can hold on to it for me, sure. And I think, since he’s your son, that we should agree together whether he should have his sword back or not."

"The same for me," Derek said.

Finrod nodded, looking pleased. "It will be as thou hast said. We will keep the swords in trust and when thou thinkest that my son doth deserve to have it returned to him, then we will discuss it between us."

"That holds true for me," Valandur said.

"And for me as well," Laurendil chimed in.

"Then, this enquiry is over," Finrod intoned. "What further punishment may be placed upon you three will be decided later, once we reach Wiseman. For now, ye are assigned to menial tasks here in camp and will not be allowed to leave it to explore. Ye will especially see to the comfort of Alex and Derek and see that they lack for nothing while we are here."

"We don’t need servants," Derek protested. "We’re quite capable of looking after ourselves."

"Nevertheless, for today, these three will attend to your needs. Perhaps in the serving of those they consider beneath them, they will find a measure of humilty."

"Well, if you insist," Derek said with a drawl, "I guess they can start by getting me another cup of coffee." He held out his mug, giving the three ellyn an expectant look. All three grimaced and finally Elennen moved and reached for the mug. Alex silently held out his own and this time it was Calandil who took it, while Findalaurë looked on in disbelief.

As Elennen handed the mug back to Derek, the Mortal thanked him, which surprised him and his expression was more thoughtful. Alex thanked Calandil as well. Taking a sip or two, he looked around at the Elves still standing there. "Class dismissed," he said, raising an eyebrow.

****

Words are Quenya:

Van: Goose.

Otorno: Equivalent to gwador.

Á quildë!: ‘Silence!’

Fëa: Soul, spirit.