61: The Elven Tour Guide at the Blue Petrel

Warning: A drinking challenge is issued and accepted.

****

Dinner was, as Derek later called it, a Fellini comedy rewritten by Tim Burton. Apparently, Glorfindel had given the three ellyn money without actually explaining what it was used for and why so when, after making some rather dubious food selections — Alex simply gawked when Elennen ordered spaghetti with mashed potatoes (which were intended to go with the pork chops) — they started to pass the cashier without stopping to pay. When the cashier, one of the students on work-study, called for them to pay, they just stared at her in disbelief.

"Did your dad give you any money, Lawrence?" Alex asked.

"Money?"

"Coin," Alex explained further. He set his tray down and fished out his wallet and showed them some dollar bills and then unzipped the attached coin purse and showed them nickels, dimes and quarters.

Findalaurë then fished about in his pockets, pulling out a wad of bills. "Thou meanest these?"

Alex nodded. "Give the young lady this one." He pointed to a five. "Alan, Cal, you do the same."

The other two rummaged in their pockets, also pulling out some bills, and after carefully examining the one that Alex had pointed out, looked for a similar bill in their pile. All the while, the cashier sat there looking on in bemusement. Alex caught her eye and shrugged. "They’re from Finland."

"Oh, I guess that explains it," she said, giving them a wry smile. Alex and Derek handed her their plastic meal cards, which she swiped and handed back with a smile. Alex then directed them all to a table that was thankfully empty and they all sat.

Findalaurë gave Alex a suspicious look. "Thou didst not give the female this money."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "First of all, Tiffany is not ‘the female’. She is referred to as either ‘the young lady’ or ‘the cashier’, which is her job title here, if you don’t know her actual name. Second of all, this is a meal ticket." He fished out the plastic card. "See this strip? It gets swiped in the machine and the machine automatically subtracts the price of my meal, for which I already pre-paid. When I use up all the meals allocated on this strip, I have to pay more money. This card is merely a convenient way of carrying money. Loren might issue you your own cards later, but for now you have to pay the old-fashioned way with hard cold cash."

"This paper which thou sayest is money is neither cold nor hard," Calandil protested.

"It’s just an expression, mate," Derek said. "Don’t tell me you don’t have to pay for things back home."

"We are of the nobility," Findalaurë said with a sniff. "We do not sully ourselves with such matters. If we wish for a thing, it is granted unto us. Merchants submit their bill to the Treasury and they are paid forthwith. We have naught to do with it."

"I see," Alex said, giving Derek a raised eyebrow. "Well, here, we do things a bit differently. So, follow our lead, okay? You don’t want people to think you’re stupid or something."

Findalaurë started to comment but was interrupted by several young women coming over to their table. "So, Alex, where have you and Derek been all week and who are these gorgeous hunks with you?" Lucy Barton asked, plopping herself down beside Calandil, giving the nonplused ellon a bright smile.

"Oh, hi, Lucy," Alex said. "This is my cousin Lawrence and his friends Cal and Alan. They’re just visiting. Lawrence, Cal, Alan, this is Lucy, Leanne, Shafali, Michelle, Carla and Patty. They are studying to be Elf Guides like we are."

All the women said hi, giving the ellyn frank looks that actually had the three blushing and murmuring shy hellos of their own.

"So where did you two disappear to?" Lucy asked. "And we noticed all the male teachers except Mr. McKinley were gone as well."

"Oh, well... um... Alex still needed to do the camping trip requirement and I went with him for moral support," Derek answered, "and some of the teachers decided to join us and Gil who was going to go with us and supervise, so we sort of made it a party and then we had to go down to Fairbanks and pick up Lawrence and his friends so we stayed there a couple of days before coming here."

"So is this your first time in Alaska?" Carla asked the three ellyn, giving them the once over and apparently liking what she was seeing.

"Yes, this is our first time," Findalaurë said stiffly.

"Where are you from?" Michelle asked. "Because wherever that is, I want to move there if all the guys look as gorgeous as you three."

Neither of the ellyn answered and Alex stepped in. "They’re from Finland, actually. They’re here as exchange students."

"Oh! I was in Finland last summer," Patty exclaimed with delight. "Are you from Helsinki? I just love that city." Then she started to say a phrase in what everyone had to assume was Finnish, but her expression became puzzled when none of the ellyn responded, looking as bemused as the others.

"Ah... they live way to the north," Alex said, "and very close to the border with Sweden. I think they speak Swedish more than they speak Finnish."

"You know Finland was under Swedish control for quite a while," Derek chimed in. "Everyone spoke Swedish and few spoke Finnish then."

"Oh, okay," Patty said a little dubiously and then to Alex and Derek’s horror started speaking in what they assumed must be Swedish. Patty stopped and gave them a shrug. "I lived in Sweden as an exchange student while in high school. I’m still pretty fluent and managed to pick up Finnish along the way. Your cousin doesn’t seem to be capable of speaking either Finnish or Swedish yet you say that’s where he and his friends are from."

"And since when are you Finnish, Alex Grant?" Shafali asked. "You’re no more Finnish than I’m Japanese."

"Oh, did I say Swedish?" Alex said, ignoring Shafali. "I meant Russian. They’re from that place, Kar-something that was under Russian control."

"Karelia," Patty supplied, then began rattling off some phrase that was definitely Russian, but Alex replied in the same language, heading her off and for several minutes the two of them conversed in Russian while everyone else looked on with varying degrees of bemusement. Finally, Findalaurë took a hand in the conversation.

"I prefer to speak English," he said, stopping the spate of Russian passing between Alex and Patty. "My friends and I wish only to speak your language. We made a vow to speak only English so we can improve our understanding of your language."

"Well, if you insist," Patty said, still eyeing them suspiciously.

"Hey, what do you think about them extending classes for a week?" Derek asked, hoping to steer the subject matter away from imaginary Finns incapable of speaking their own language.

"I can’t believe they’ve done that," Leanne griped. "That means I won’t be able to get home for Thanksgiving as I’d planned."

"Yeah, well, I, for one, welcome the extra study time," Carla said as they all stood up. "I was one of those who spent most of the time during the storm throwing up."

About then, Nathan and some others showed up at the table. "So what are your plans for the evening?" he asked.

Alex shrugged. "Not really sure. I just know I don’t feel like going back to my room to study."

"What about joining us? We’re going to the Blue Petrel to hear a Celtic band that’s playing there tonight," Jack suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Derek said and everyone else agreed.

Then Alex was showing the three Elves where to take their trays and afterwards they headed back to the dorm rooms to grab coats, agreeing to meet downstairs in ten minutes.

****

Alex decided to take his car, telling Jack and Nathan, when they met in the foyer, that they would meet up with them, so he and Derek led the three Elves to the car and they climbed in.

"So we’re going to a bar... er... a tavern, I guess you would call it," Alex explained as he drove out of the campus. "You can get whatever you want to drink, just remember you have to pay for it. You’re not likely to know any of our mixed drinks but you can get wine or beer. If you want wine, I suggest you simply ask for the house red or the house white, whatever you want, and if you want beer, just say you want it on tap. Do you have beer in Valinor?"

"Yes, and ale," Findalaurë answered.

"If you like dark beer, ask for a Guinness on tap and if you prefer a lighter beer, ask for a lager and you should be okay," Derek suggested.

"We will have wine," Findalaurë said.

"Suit yourselves," Alex replied, not really caring.

In a matter of minutes, they were parking the car and making their way towards the bar. Alex opened the door and ushered everyone in. It was early enough that the band was not yet playing, nor was the place particularly full, so they were able to find a booth by the window. Alex noticed the bartender giving them an appraising look and remembered that he’d been on when Daeron had sung, which meant that he, at least, might recognize the Elves as being Elves and not just particularly handsome male humans.

Jack, Nathan, George and the young women trooped in just then and grabbed a couple of tables and put them together so they were seated near enough to Alex and the others to hold a conversation. Then the waitress came over to take their orders. When she came to Findalaurë, she automatically started speaking in Sindarin, which gave the Elves a start.

"English," Alex said hurriedly. "Let’s keep it to English." He gave the waitress a significant look and she nodded, asking her question in English.

"We will have red wine," Findalaurë said, indicating himself and his two gwedyr.

"House red, all right?" the waitress asked and Findalaurë nodded. She finished with the orders and left.

"How does she know Sindarin?" Nathan asked.

"And why did she start speaking it to you guys?" Carla added, narrowing her eyes.

"Maybe she’s taking one of those night classes that the Academy teachers offer to the community," Derek replied, "and she decided to practice it for some reason. Who cares? Does anyone know anything about the band that’s supposed to be playing tonight?"

"I heard them last month," Leanne answered. "They’re pretty good. They do lots of Tannahill Weavers and Clannad stuff but also some original music. They call themselves ‘The Frozen Celts’." She giggled and several others snickered.

The waitress came over then with everyone’s drink and several bowls of popcorn and pretzels and for a few minutes people were busy imbibing. Alex watched as the three ellyn sipped their wine, glancing about with unfeigned interest. Elennen noticed a sign at the bar and pointed.

"What does that mean, the Elven Tour Guide?"

"Hmm?" Alex looked up, not sure what the ellon was asking. He rarely came to the bars, having long gotten out of the habit of binge drinking on the weekends. He used bars as contact points, keeping to a single beer that he would nurse through the night, so that when the bar closed, he was as sober as the bartender and the waitresses while his contact was usually too drunk to see straight. It was very useful in getting information out of a person he would otherwise not be able to get.

"That sign there," Elennen said.

Alex squinted and others looked as well, trying to read the sign. "Man, you have good eyesight if you can read that from here," someone said.

Leanne, who was sitting the closest to the bar got up and went to read the sign, motioning for the bartender and obviously asking him about it. She came back a minute later, giving them a shrug. "It’s a list of some weird-sounding drinks. Númenórean Nightmare, The Balrog Slayer and a whole bunch of others. Bartender says it’s a challenge. You have to get through all fifteen drinks without dying and you get some sort of prize. He says, so far, the furthest people have gotten before passing out is about eight drinks."

"Odd, I don’t remember seeing that sign before," Derek said to Alex. "But I don’t think I’ve been here that often."

"Me neither," Alex said. "What about you guys?" he asked the rest of the group, but several of them shook their heads.

"We usually end up at the Gray Whaler," Nathan said, naming one of the other bars popular with the Academy students, "but we’re all fans of the Frozen Celts and this is the first time they’ve played here."

"It is a drinking challenge?" Calandil asked.

"Yeah," Derek answered. "A lot of bars will have some kind of challenge. There is a bar in Oakland for instance that has beers from all over the world. If you sample all two hundred of them you get an award, a tee-shirt or something."

"Why do they have these challenges?" Findalaurë asked.

"Why not?" Alex asked. "It’s sometimes considered a rite of passage, mostly it’s just for fun, a draw to bring people to the bar. There was a pub in England that I went to where, if they learned you were an American, they would give you a special drink called the American Bomber. Some dude back in the second world war" — he couldn’t help noticing the looks of shock on the faces of the three young Elves — "came up with it and it’s supposedly pretty nasty. But a lot of Americans will go there just to try it. The challenge is to drink it all at one go and then if you can keep from throwing up for one hour, they give you a specially made beer mug."

"So, did you ever try it?" Derek asked.

"Hell, no!" Alex retorted with a laugh. "When I visited that particular pub I adopted a very convincing British accent. Everyone thought I was from East Anglia. No way was I going to be suckered into drinking whatever was in that drink."

Several people chuckled. "Well, who wants to try the challenge?" someone asked. "Hey! It’s Guy Fawkes Day. We should celebrate."

"I want to be somewhat sober when the band is playing, though," Jack said, "so I’ll pass. What about you, Lawrence? Are you up to it, you and your friends?"

"And why should we be so stupid?" Findalaurë asked with a supercilious sniff. "It is obviously a Mortal game."

"Ah, but it’s the Elven Tour Guide," Derek said with a glint in his eyes. "Are you saying Elves would never indulge or that Elves would not find it a challenge?"

"Yeah, but there ain’t no such thing as elves anyway," Carla drawled, "except us fake ones."

"Are you sure of that?" Jack asked, not looking at anyone.

Alex gave the young man an appraising look. Jack was the son of Wiseman’s mayor. It stood to reason that he might know of the existence of the Elves and would recognize Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen for what they truly were.

"I bet if there were real Elves, they wouldn’t be able to make it through the challenge," Derek said. "Aren’t they supposed to be wispy little things with wings, anyway?"

Alex watched in amusement as all three ellyn straightened, looking affronted and confused at the same time, no doubt wondering why Derek was saying what he was saying when he knew the truth. Alex suspected that Derek was setting them up as revenge for what they did to them, to Alex in particular, when they were in the valley of the waterfall. He was tempted to tell Derek to knock it off and leave the three ellyn alone, but decided to see how it played out. Sooner or later, these three youngsters, as Finrod and Glorfindel called them, would have to learn that Mortals played hard and fast and by no rules devised by Elves.

"Thou thinkest we are incapable of succeeding in this challenge?" Findalaurë asked, his eyes narrowing in contempt.

Derek sat back, took a sip of his Guinness and shrugged. "Guess there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?"

For a moment, there was silence around them as everyone watched the interplay between Derek and Findalaurë. One of the women started to protest, but Nathan shushed her, saying not to interfere. The guys, at least, recognized the ‘pistols for two, coffee for one’ aspect of the conversation between the two men.

"And you?" Findalaurë asked. "Will you take this challenge as well?"

"But then, I’m not an Elf... am I?" Derek retorted lazily, taking another sip of his Guinness.

Calandil whispered something in Quenya and Elennen answered in kind while Findalaurë stared at Derek, then glanced at Alex, who shrugged, giving him an unconcerned look. "It’s your call, Lawrence. I’m not your daddy or your mummy. Do whatever you want."

Findalaurë held a hasty conversation with his two gwedyr, all of them speaking in rapid-fire Quenya. Elennen seemed to be against the challenge, based on his expression and the vehement way in which he spoke to his two friends. Calandil looked more unsure, but Findalaurë said something with a sneer and the other two finally nodded. All three looked at Alex and Derek.

"We accept the challenge," Findalaurë said.

Several of the women groaned, shaking their heads, one of them muttering something about the stupidity of males and their stupid pissing contests. The guys all smiled and Jack raised his hand to get the waitress's attention. When she came over he said, "Our three friends here have decided to take the Elven Tour Guide."

She gave them an appraising look then looked back at the bar. "Hey, Stan. Three for the Tour Guide."

Stan raised an eyebrow, then, after pulling out some papers from underneath the bar and grabbing a pen, he walked over to the group. "You have to sign these release forms stating that you are of age and you understand the risks and will not sue the bar. We’ll pay for funeral expenses." He gave them a leer as he handed the three the papers, giving Calandil, who was the closest, the pen.

Derek leaned over and pointed. "Sign your name here," he said to Calandil.

Alex watched as Calandil dutifully and very carefully signed his name, using Roman cursive: Calandil Calaldundilion. Then he handed the pen to Findalaurë and finally Elennen signed his name. Stan took the papers and the pen, read the names, raised an eyebrow, but made no comment other than, "It’ll take a few minutes to put the drinks together. My suggestion is, stop with the wine and drink some water." Then he went back to the bar and rang a bell that was hanging from a rafter.

"Listen up!" he called, silencing all conversations. "Three brave souls have agreed to take the Elven Tour Guide."

There were shouts of glee and lots of applauding as Stan began setting up three trays with several glasses of various sizes and shapes. The waitress, whose name was Sally, came over and gave the three ellyn slips of paper comprised of a list of the different drinks. "You have to drink them in this order," she told them. "The glasses are all numbered, so just go down the list. Take your time, but you have to finish by closing time, which is two o’clock, so you have about six hours."

Alex craned his neck to read the list that was in front of Elennen who was seated across from him. The first drink on the list was the Númenórean Nightmare. Even as Stan was putting the drinks together, several patrons started gathering around to watch. Some people came in from the back carrying musical instruments and started to set up. Someone told them about the challenge and they nodded and after consulting with each other, they settled themselves down and one of them spoke into a microphone.

"We understand that there’s been a challenge for the Elven Tour Guide," the man said. "So, in honor of this, we’ll start out with ‘The Faerie Queen’s Reel.’"

There was a smattering of applause as people recognized the title and then the band started playing. Stan came over bearing one of the trays while Sally and another waitress brought the other trays, placing them on the table which Alex and Derek had cleared off.

"You have your list?" Stan asked, and the three nodded. "Then start whenever you please. Maybe your friends can keep track for you. I don’t think you’ll be able to see straight after the third drink."

"I’ll keep track for Alan," Alex said.

"And I’ll keep track for Lawrence," Derek chimed in. "Jack, you want to keep track for Cal?"

"Yeah, sure," the young man said with some reluctance.

"Okay, we’re all set," Derek said. "First drink is the Númenórean Nightmare."

The three Elves glanced over the different glasses. Alex could see that each had a large number painted on it. They found the one with the number one, the liquid clear, almost like water, and giving each other glances, began to drink.

"All the way or it doesn’t count," someone in the crowd said.

All three Elves grimaced as they drank and Alex almost felt sorry for them, but decided that he didn’t care. His main concern was what Finrod would say when he found out. Or Glorfindel. All three Elves gasped as they swallowed the last of the drink, their eyes crossing a bit as people clapped.

"Okay, number two is the Peredhel Pleasure," Derek said, checking the list.

It took a little longer for them to find the second drink, a rosy looking liquid. They started drinking and now they were much more eager to do so, and Alex had to assume the taste was more to their liking. Findalaurë was the first to finish and without waiting for his friends, began looking for number three, Edhel Elation, as Derek called it, once Elennen finished drinking. No one was paying much attention to the band playing, but the musicians didn’t seem to mind; they continued playing jigs and laments, sometimes in English, other times in one type of Gaelic or another, Alex couldn’t tell them apart, and the crowd around their table grew.

The Balrog Slayer came next and this was a vicious blue liqueur. Stan the bartender had come over to see how everyone was doing. "Loren concocted that one in particular," he said with a nod as Findalaurë gasped and choked the liquor down, his face turning an interesting color. "Has a bit of a bite to it," Stan continued, watching with clinical interest.

"Who came up with these drinks, anyway?" Alex asked the man.

"Oh, the Elves, of course," Stan answered readily enough, then went back to the bar to attend to the needs of his other customers.

"How are you holding up?" Derek asked Calandil.

"Wh-whas nummer is this?" he replied rather drunkenly.

"We’re on to number five, the Orc’s Ovation," Derek answered. "Just ten more after this. Here you go." He helpfully handed him the glass with the number five painted on it. Calandil had to hold on to it with both hands before drinking. The other two were faring a bit better. Findalaurë did not even seem to be affected yet. The Orc’s Ovation was followed by the Sword of Elendil.

"This will put hair on your chest," someone in the crowd said.

"Why do I want hair on my chest?" Elennen asked, sounding very upset, staring at the glass with loathing. "I do not want hair growing on my chest."

"Don’t worry," Alex said soothingly. "It’s just an expression. I promise you won’t have any hair growing on your chest. C’mon. You’re falling behind your friends." Elennen glanced at Findalaurë and Calandil downing their drinks and followed suit.

"I canna feel my dung," Elennen complained.

"Then it’ll be that much easier to get the other drinks down, mate," Derek said unhelpfully. By now some of the women were quietly complaining that they wanted to leave, that they did not want to stay and watch someone die of alcohol poisoning. None of the guys moved, but Jack called Stan over and after a hasty consultation, Stan went back to the bar, picked up the phone and spoke for a bit, then came back to the table.

"Called you a cab," he said to the women. "It’ll be here momentarily."

They gave him a grateful smile, scowled at the men at the table, one of them muttering about Neanderthals in their midst, and got up, pushing their way to the door. No one paid them any mind as the three Elves went on to drink the Mithril Madness and then Isildur’s Bane. Calandil was looking positively ill by then, but he hung on, gripping the edge of the table.

"How many dosh tha’ make?" Findalaurë asked.

"Eight," Alex said. "If you drink the next one, you’ll have surpassed the record. No one’s ever gotten higher than eight."

"I canna shee the nummers," Elennen said, swaying slightly.

Alex looked at the remaining glasses, for each of the empties had been moved out of the way. "Here, this is number nine, The Felagund Hewer."

"Thas m’atto," Findalaurë said, raising his glass, swaying slightly. "Here is to m’atto." Then he downed the drink and everyone applauded.

"Well, even if they don’t make it to the end, they’ve beaten the record," someone said approvingly.

Calandil and Elennen finished their drinks. Elennen, by now, was leaning against the window, looking a bit glassy-eyed, but managed to sit up long enough to take the next drink, The Fëanorean Fit, which for some reason caused Calandil to giggle when he heard the name. Findalaurë gave him a cool stare and punched him in the arm.

"Shtop laughing an’ dwink," he said.

All the while the crowd around them grew and grew quieter as they watched. The Fëanorean Fit was followed by the Vanyarin Virtue, then the Telerin Twister and the Sindarin Sass. At that point, Calandil turned several shades of red and green at the same time and Jack yelled, "Bucket!"

Immediately there was a rush and someone was pushing a large bucket in front of the poor ellon who began to be very, very sick. There were cries of disgust and people moved away. The retching seemed to go on forever and the smell was terrible, but finally it ended and the bucket was removed and several people helped the ellon from his seat and took him to a nearby booth where he was encouraged to lie down. Someone came and placed a wet cloth on his forehead and then they left him there to see how Findalaurë and Elennen were doing.

"Just two more drinks, lads," someone said encouragingly. "You’re almost home."

"Home," Elennen said. "I wanna go home."

"Not until we finish," Findalaurë said, then squinted at the two glasses still in front of him trying to read the numbers.

"This one," Alex said, handing him the appropriate glass. He looked down at the list. "This is Finrod’s Fantasy."

"Nish," Findalaurë said and then drank. He had to stop half way through to catch his breath before downing the rest. Elennen was not too far behind, but he was definitely looking very ill and someone called for two more buckets to be on hand.

"The last one, mates," Derek said. "The Curse of the Noldor."

"We were curshed," Findalaurë said and then, to everyone’s amazement, he broke into a lament, singing in Quenya, the words rolling off his tongue like silver, and as drunk as he was, his voice was heartbreakingly beautiful. Even the musicians stopped their playing to listen. Alex sat spellbound as Calandil joined in the song from where he was lying down, apparently recovered enough to be conscious again. Elennen, however, did not. In fact, so spellbound were the Mortals by the singing that they weren’t paying attention to the ellon, who suddenly snarled, and drunkenly punched Findalaurë in the arm.

"Kinshlayer!" he shouted.

"Not kinshlayer, you shtupid Teler," Findalaurë protested, turning to his gwador with a hurt expression on his face.

But Elennen was too drunk and too incensed and before anyone could stop him, he punched Findalaurë in the face. Findalaurë howled a curse in Quenya as blood spurted from his nose and he returned the punch, hitting low in Elennen’s gut, which was the wrong thing to do, because Elennen proceeded to throw up all over Findalaurë and everyone else in range. There were cries of disgust and alarm. Alex and Derek attempted to scramble out of the way, along with everyone else.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Alex looked up to see Glorfindel standing over them all, his expression one of anger and disgust, and standing right next to him was Finrod, who looked every inch the King of Nargothrond, his expression cold and implacable.

"Uh oh," he heard Derek mutter. "I think we’re in deep trouble."

****

Note: All the names of the drinks in the Elven Tour Guide, except for the Fëanorean Fit, are courtesy of Ellie with much thanks.