62: Explanations and Apologies

"Atto," Findalaurë cried in the absolute silence that followed the entrance of the two Elf-lords as the Mortals stood there staring in shock. "Elennen hit me. He... he called me a... a ... kinshlayer and I w-want Ammë. Ev’ryone is s-s-o mean to me." He then started weeping and sniffing at the same time, trying to get the nosebleed to stop. Elennen was just sitting there swaying and moaning and weeping, wet with vomit. Alex watched the two Elf-lords exchange grimly amused looks.

"Where’s Calandil?" Glorfindel asked, looking around.

"Here, my lord."

Alex craned his neck and saw an arm rising above the tables waving at them.

"Would my lord do me the great honor of killing me now?" the still invisible Calandil said. "I promise to go quietly."

Glorfindel actually smiled. "Sorry. I don’t kill anyone between midnight and eight. You’ll have to wait until after breakfast."

"As my lord wishes," Calandil said, sounding mournful. "I think I’ve gone blind. All I see is white."

Sally, who happened to be closest to where Calandil was lying, went over and made a tsking sound as she leaned over and removed a white wash cloth. "It’s just the cloth over your head, silly."

"Oh, thank you," Calandil said, sounding relieved, and then they heard him gently snoring. Sally looked up and gave them a shrug.

Meanwhile, Finrod was quietly ordering people about, asking for help in getting the other two ellyn cleaned up. The other waitress, Maggie, went in search of a mop and bucket, while Jack and Nathan offered to take the two ellyn to the Men’s room. Stan stated he could scrounge up some extra clothes so they could change. Some people made to leave, but Finrod fixed them with a hard stare and they wilted, quietly taking seats again. Glorfindel was speaking into his phone, then shutting it down.

"The others are on their way," he said. "They’ll be here shortly."

Finrod nodded. "Explain," he said, looking coldly at Alex and Derek, and the very way he said it caused nearly every Mortal there to cringe.

"It... it was a drinking challenge," Alex said.

"The Elven Tour Guide?" Glorfindel asked in disbelief. "You challenged them to the Elven Tour Guide? Are you insane?"

"And what is an Elven Tour Guide?" Finrod asked.

"How far did they get?" Glorfindel asked Stan, ignoring Finrod for the moment.

Stan grinned and pointed to the poster. "The Curse of the Noldor."

"Oh for the love of... and you let them do it?"

"Hey, they signed the release form," Stan protested, waving three sheets of paper.

"So, what exactly happened?" Finrod asked. He went over to the bar and began reading the list, his eyebrows going up and nearly disappearing into his hair. "Finrod’s Fantasy?" he turned to Glorfindel. "And what fantasy would that be?"

"Don’t look at me, gwador," Glorfindel retorted. "That’s Alfa’s concoction. I created the Balrog Slayer. You’ll have to ask her what she had in mind when she created it."

"Fifteen drinks," Finrod said musingly. "What gave you the idea of creating this tour?"

Glorfindel shrugged. "We were sitting here one night and feeling bored, so we each came up with our own drinks. One thing led to another and then the Elven Tour Guide was born."

"And have you been on it?" Finrod asked.

"Are you crazy?" Glorfindel protested. "It was meant as a joke. No one in their right mind would ever drink those concoctions. I swear, the one Amroth created could be used to clean the inside of an engine."

"Stan said that people have gotten as far as number eight before passing out," Derek said.

Glorfindel gave the bartender a disbelieving look. Stan merely shrugged. "Hey, it was all in fun."

"Fun?" Glorfindel echoed, his expression turning cold and Stan took a step or two back, as if he feared an attack.

Just then, the door opened and people gasped as several Elves came in, looking about with interest. Laurendil and Valandur were at the forefront and Alex saw Nielluin, Beleg and Vardamir as well as the Twins, Daeron, Vorondur and Amroth.

"Aranya," Laurendil said by way of greeting.

"Thy grandson lieth there," Finrod said, pointing to where Calandil was still hidden behind the tables. "We are in the midst of cleaning up the other two and trying to ascertain what hath happened."

Laurendil went over to look at Calandil, still snoring, and shook his head, giving Finrod a wry look. "He remindeth me of thee the night we were foolish enough to drink Bregolas’ brew."

"Please do not remind me," Finrod said, rolling his eyes. "I foreswore drinking anything other than wine after that."

The door to the Men’s room opened and Findalaurë and Elennen stumbled out with Nathan and Jack helping them. They were dressed in a mismatch of clothes. Findalaurë was wearing a pair of sweats and a short sleeve black tee-shirt while Elennen was in too tight jeans and a sweatshirt. They both still looked green as they fell into a couple of chairs. Findalaurë’s face was all splotchy and his nose looked swollen but Nathan insisted it wasn’t broken. Elrohir came over and gently probed the ellon’s face, speaking softly to him, then turned to Finrod.

"It is as Nathan says. The nose is unbroken and the swelling will go down by tomorrow."

"Thank you," Finrod said graciously. "So who issued this challenge?"

"I did," Derek said.

"Why?" Finrod demanded.

"Payback," was all Derek said, giving the Elf-lord a hard stare.

Finrod reared back, then gave Glorfindel an enquiring look. Glorfindel muttered a word that sounded like ‘acharn’ and Finrod’s expression went even colder than before.

"So, you decided to avenge yourselves on these children?" he asked.

"Children? Children?" Alex nearly shouted, fear turning to anger. "These children are older than our civilization, Finrod. It’s about time you stopped coddling them and let them stand or fall on their own. You’d better get it straight. I don’t care what our ancestors did when you were lording over them, but in this day and age, we play by our own rules and you can just back off."

"Why are they so mean, Atto?" Findalaurë wailed. "Why do they not like us?"

"Oh, stop whining, Finda," Nielluin said with a sneer. "You sound just like an elfling of five."

"Shut up, Nell," Alex said. "No one asked for your opinion."

Nielluin straightened, giving him a haughty look. "And who are you to tell me what to do, Mortal?"

Before anyone could react, Alex was leaping across two tables and grabbing the elleth into a choke hold, causing her to gasp in pain. "I’m the Mortal who will break your pretty little neck like a twig," he snarled into her ear. "I eat little girls like you for breakfast. You’re in my world now, sweetheart, and I call the shots."

"Alex, mate, let her go," Derek said calmly but with grave authority.

But Alex kept his hold on the elleth and didn’t look up.

"Artemus, enough!" Amroth said sharply. "You’ve made your point. Let her go."

Alex blinked, as if coming awake, and released the elleth, who stumbled out of his grasp and into Finrod’s arms, looking shaken. Alex just stood there. Vorondur came to him and snapped his fingers in front of the young Man’s face.

"Vardamir," Vorondur said quietly and the Elven healer joined his colleague, placing a hand on Alex’s forehead and crooning something soft and sibilant. Alex started, stepping back in surprise."Wh-what...?"

"Easy now," Vorondur said, taking his elbow and steering him to a chair. "You’re all right. Take deep, slow breaths. That’s it."

"I think we need to get everyone home," Elladan said softly to Glorfindel who nodded.

"Yes, I agree. Stan, the bar’s closed. Pay the musicians and get everyone out."

"Hey, it isn’t even one yet," someone protested. "What about final rounds?"

Glorfindel gave the Man a cold stare and started toward him. Finrod grabbed his arm. "Go, my children," the once King of Nargothrond commanded with quiet authority. "Go ere the wrath of the Eldar falleth upon you and it is a terrible thing that no Mortal should witness."

There was absolute silence for five seconds and then everyone was moving. "Jack, Nathan, and anyone else from the Academy, remain here," Glorfindel ordered and several people reluctantly returned to their seats.

"Look, no one put a gun to their heads and made them drink," Derek stated as the bar began to empty out. "They were warned and they accepted the risks."

"Yet, you egged them on," Glorfindel said.

"And so?" Derek shot back. "We’re not their baby sitters. Alex is right. You people think we should be playing by your rules of chivalry and all that, but that’s not how it’s done. I’m sorry. We’re not Galahad and Lancelot, all noble and everything. We’re just two regular guys and I don’t see you castigating anyone else. Jack, Nathan, the others, they all could have convinced these three not to take the challenge, but they didn’t. If you want to look at it as a rite of passage, then your boys passed with flying colors. So, next time, they won’t be so stupid. Lesson learned and all that."

"I still do not understand why my son hath a bloody nose," Finrod said.

It was Stan who answered. "Well, the one lying down got as far as the Sindarin Sass before he threw up, then the other two drank Finrod’s Fantasy and were about to drink the Curse of the Noldor when this one," — he pointed to Findalaurë still looking woebegone —"started singing the Noldolantë. Yeah, I recognized the opening verse from our Quenya class," he said when all the Elves raised their eyebrows. "Anyway, then the kid lying down joined in but the other one started yelling something about this one being a kinslayer, and then he called him a stupid Teler,"— pointing first at Findalaurë and then Elennen — "and then the fists started flying and that’s when you came in." He spoke the last in a rush as if to get it all out at once.

"Why are you here, anyway?" Alex asked, looking more puzzled than angry.

"Got a phone call telling us we needed to be here," Glorfindel said. "I thought it was you." He looked at Stan who shook his head.

"Not me, or anyone else, unless someone called on a cell phone."

"The number was for this bar," Glorfindel said. "I recognized it."

"Well, whoever called never used the phone," Stan insisted.

"It mattereth not," Finrod said. "It only mattereth that we are here now and must needs deal with the situation as it standeth."

Alex got up and went to sit next to Findalaurë, who eyed him warily. "Look, I’m sorry. We don’t hate you or anything. I think you guys were very brave to take the challenge. God knows I would’ve been dead drunk or just plain dead after the fourth drink." Then, before the ellon could respond, Alex turned to Elennen. "And I think you should apologize for calling your own cousin and gwador a kinslayer. That was not only stupid but cruel."

Elennen had the grace to blush, looking down at his feet and muttering something in Quenya. Findalaurë said something back. Alex, deciding to leave them to themselves, then stood and came over to where Finrod was still comforting Nielluin. "And I’m sorry for what I did," he said. "I’m afraid Artemus took over back there."

"Who is Artemus?" Finrod asked. "Methought thou wert named Alex."

Alex sighed. "Long story and this is not the time nor the place for it." He turned to Vorondur. "I’m getting too dangerous. When Nell said what she said, something in me snapped and it was like I was back in Minnesota going after those damn terrorists all over again."

"We’ll talk about it in the morning," Vorondur said. "Come to Edhellond around ten and we’ll have another session. With your permission, I’ll have Vardamir sit in with us. He has skills of mind healing I lack."

"I guess," Alex said, hunching his shoulders in defeat. Derek came over and gave him a hug.

"Hey, we’ll get through this. Tonight was just crazy enough. I don’t really know why I kept egging those three on. Something in me just wanted to see them suffer a bit for what they put us through. Stupid, I know, but I don’t claim to be perfect. Never have, never will."

"As for the rest of you," Glorfindel said, "what happened here remains here. Am I understood? I can’t control what all those other people do or say about what went on here tonight, but if I hear anything about it from others at the Academy, I will hunt you all down and you will not like the consequences." The absolute sincerity of his words struck them and they all nodded vigorously. "Okay. Get out of here." There was a mad scramble as the Academy students all fled into the night. Glorfindel turned to Stan. "Send me the bill for what is owed. We’ll get out of your way so you and your staff can close up."

"Did you ride with someone?" Vorondur asked Alex.

"No, Derek and I drove my car."

"Then, you should go back to the Academy. We’ll take the three amigos with us," Vorondur said, giving him a slight smile.

"Sorry," Alex said, feeling suddenly young and inadequate.

"No real harm done," Vorondur assured him, giving him a squeeze on his shoulder. "And as Derek said, a lesson learned. I think now that both sides have tested one another you can concentrate on being friends. They really do need your friendship, even if you think you don’t need theirs."

Alex nodded and Derek did as well. "I’ll make sure Alex is at Edhellond at ten," Derek assured Vorondur.

Glorfindel and Finrod came over. "I’m sorry if I came down hard on you two," Glorfindel said. "I know I’ve been unfair to you."

"As have I," Finrod said. "You are correct, my son and his friends are not children." He gave them a shy look. "It is hard for a father to let his youngest go. His mother was opposed to my bringing him, but I felt he needed the experience."

"Well, he can’t complain about things being boring around here," Derek countered with a sly grin. "Here at Elf Academy, we don’t do boring."

Both Glorfindel and Finrod chuckled. "Get out of here, the both of you," Glorfindel said. "We’ll see you in the morning."

Alex and Derek nodded and headed out while the Elves gathered the three ellyn, giving their farewells to Stan. Five minutes later, the only people left were Stan and the two waitresses.

"Well, that sure was fun," Maggie said to no one in particular. Sally threw a wet towel at her and Stan snorted, giving them an explicit expletive, and then they were all laughing as they set about putting the bar in order before heading home.

****

Words are Quenya unless otherwise noted:

Ammë: Hypocoristic form of amillë: Mother.

Aranya: My King.

Acharn: (Sindarin) Revenge, vengeance.

Noldolantë: ‘The Fall of the Noldor’, a lament composed by Maglor.