77: Reactions

Returning to Wiseman was awkward for many.

Glorfindel waited until he and the other Elves were out of sight and hearing of the Mortals, who were busy getting their prisoners into the cars and driving off, before he stopped and grabbed Amroth by the arm, pulling him around.

“If. You. Ever. Pull. A. Stunt. Like. That. Again,” he said with gritted teeth, spacing each word out for emphasis, “I will cheerfully slit your damn throat!”

“How dare you!” Amroth protested, pushing his arm away.

Glorfindel answered by punching the former King of Laurinand in the jaw, sending him reeling. Several of the Elves, all of those originally from Valinor, moved to interfere, but Elladan and Elrohir stepped forward, blocking their paths, shaking their heads, and the others backed down, clearly unhappy as they watched the confrontation.

Glorfindel, meanwhile, had followed through with his punch by grabbing a dazed Amroth by his shoulders and shaking him, his anger clearly evident. “I dare because I’m the one who would have to explain to Della why her husband and the father of her children lies dead from a gunshot wound. I dare because your actions, as heroic and self-sacrificing as they may have seemed to you, nearly got Finrod killed and if that had happened, you would have joined him in Mandos courtesy of my hands around your neck. Don’t you ever do such a thing again unless you consult me first. Is that understood?”

Amroth glared at him, but in the end, it was he who was forced to look away, unable to bear the Light of Mandos that shone from Glorfindel’s eyes. “Understood,” he said.

Glorfindel kept his hold on the other ellon for a few more seconds before stepping back, taking a few deep breaths as he struggled to get himself under control. “Let’s go,” he finally said, and without another word or a backward glance, he loped away, ignoring the troubled looks that were cast his way. Only the Twins appeared unfazed by what had happened. Elrohir patted a chagrined Amroth on the shoulder as he passed him, giving him a sympathetic smile, having been on the wrong side of Glorfindel’s wrath a time or two himself, and Amroth nodded in gratitude.

The rest of the journey was done in silence.

****

Artemus sighed in relief as he settled back in his seat as the car he was in drove off, the two deputies in the front effectively ignoring him, one of them on the radio calling into headquarters. He was shaking, though whether from anger or as a result of his recent ordeal, he wasn’t entirely sure. The sight of Madison Washburn had thrown him for a loop, for she was the last person he’d expected to see in Wiseman. That she was here at all was both comforting and troubling. As long as he had known the Deputy Director, he had never known her to come out in the field, not even after all the hullabaloo was over. This was definitely a first for the redoubtable Ms Washburn. He grimaced to himself, remembering her accusations. Just what the hell was going on in Washington anyway? And Farrell, going on about knowing who Amroth really was. That could prove dangerous. If Farrell could produce actual proof that Amroth had murdered Sam Bradford, that could spell trouble for them all.

He worried for Derek and Zach, hoping they would be all right, not just physically, but in other ways as well. They had suffered more than he while they were all in Farrell’s clutches. He, at least, had had the necessary training to deal with such situations as they had found themselves in.

And then there was Finrod. He wasn’t sure what all that was about with him insisting on right of trial, whatever that meant, but he had seen the Elf prince’s expression as his gaze raked them all and he was heartily glad he was not the object of that regard. He almost felt sorry for Farrell and his men at the thought that they might be forced to face this formidable Elf.

Almost.

****

Finrod was cursing a blue streak in more than one language, though it was difficult to hear him over the chuff-chuff of the rotors. Vorondur simply smiled, wondering if he dared suggest to the heir to the Noldorin crown that he attend one or two of his anger management classes. He chuckled to himself at the image of Finrod and Glorfindel sitting before him in such a class. Those two were a right pair, that was for sure.

He glanced at Derek and Zach. Derek was gazing about, obviously enjoying the ride, but Zach had his eyes closed and there was a sheen of sweat on his brow that told Vorondur that the young Man was in a lot of pain. He sighed, knowing there was little he could do about it, but they would be in Wiseman in five minutes and then Zach would receive the necessary treatment. Findalaurë, he saw, was very subdued, his eyes full of worry for his atar as he tried unsuccessfully to calm the still fuming Elf prince.

“You really need to learn some new swear words, my lord,” Vorondur shouted in Quenya over the sound of the rotors. “You’ve repeated yourself three times already. Why such anger?”

Finrod glared at him, wincing slightly in pain as he pushed away the on-board paramedic’s hand as the Man tried to change the blood-soaked bandage. Laurendil and Vorondur had managed to slow the flow of blood but they had not been able to stop it completely. The paramedic finally gave up with a sigh and turned his attention to Zach and Derek, wiping the sweat from Zach’s brow and offering them both some bottled water.

“I resent being coddled,” Finrod replied in the same language, leaning back, grimacing with the pain. He patted Findalaurë’s arm when the younger ellon tried to comfort him. “It’s all right, Finda. Do not worry so for me. I’ve suffered worse injuries and survived.”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Vorondur said, resorting to English, “more than you know and there is the problem of transfusing you. I doubt the blood bank has your type.”

“I do not understand your words,” Finrod retorted. “I will be fine. You can always put me in healing sleep, or I could even do it myself, if necessary.”

“We may just have to do that,” Vorondur replied with a nod, then turned his attention to the two Mortals. “Zach, hang on, we’re almost there. We’ll have that arm fixed in no time. How are you holding up, Derek?”

“I’ve been better,” Derek shouted.

Vorondur nodded in acknowledgment of the Man’s words, but there was no time to comment as the copter began its descent, settling on the helipad in front of St. Luke’s. Even before the rotors were slowing down, he was out, shouting instructions to the medical personnel pouring out of the hospital, grabbing Dr. Stoner.

“We have a gunshot victim,” he said to the young resident. “He’s lost a lot of blood already.”

“An Elf?” Stoner asked as he saw Finrod being helped down from the copter and forced to lie on the gurney, all the while insisting he could walk.

“Not just any Elf,” Vorondur retorted. “That’s Finrod and he’s royally pissed. My concern is transfusion. He can’t be transfused with human blood and his blood type may not match any of ours. His son may be a match, but he can’t supply all the necessary blood.”

“Well, let’s get him prepped and then we’ll decide what to do about transfusions. Where are the others?”

“Glorfindel and the other Elves are coming cross country. I suspect they’ll be here in the next half hour. Everyone else is coming by car so it’ll take them longer.”

“Okay, I’ll order x-rays so we can see just where that bullet is and then scrub up.” He glanced at the sight of a still protesting Finrod being wheeled into the hospital with Findalaurë by his side. He gave Vorondur a wry look. “Perhaps in the meantime, you can convince Lord Finrod to calm down. Can he be anesthetized?”

“I’ll put him in healing sleep,” Vorondur said. “He won’t feel a thing.”

Stoner nodded as the two entered the building. “His range of curses is very impressive,” the resident commented.

Vorondur grinned. “I’ll have to teach him some new ones. He keeps repeating himself.”

Stoner chuckled and then became all business as he issued orders.

****

Madison Washburn, Deputy Director of the Agency, stared out the window of the car, not really seeing the forbidding landscape covered with snow as the driver made his cautious way along the highway, for there had been little time for the plows to reach this far south. She wondered what had induced her to leave rainy Washington to come all the way out here to the wilds of Alaska. In all her years as Deputy Director she had never once gone into the field, believing that her agents should come to her and not the other way around. But this time, this time was different, only she wasn’t quite sure in what manner.

She grimaced to herself, thinking back to the last thirty-six hours as she made her way across country, finally reaching Wiseman. She was not pleased with what she had found here, and Artemus….

“We’ll be in Wiseman in about twenty minutes,” Dave Michaelson said.

Maddy looked at the man sitting up front in the passenger seat. “Thank you, Chief,” she said, then returned her gaze to the scenery rolling by, still wondering why she’d ever come to this miserable place.

****

Glorfindel stayed just long enough at the farm to assure himself that the Steiners were all right, letting them know that the kidnappers had been apprehended.

 “I’m sure Dave Michaelson will be contacting you tomorrow to come in to give a statement,” he said to them and they assured him that they would have no objections in doing so.

Then he and the other Elves continued on to Wiseman. Glorfindel went directly to the Grange Hall to check on the status of the students who had been doing their tours. Elladan and Elrohir accompanied him, while Laurendil and Beleg insisted on going on to the hospital to check on Finrod. Glorfindel gave them directions. The other Elves agreed to return to Edhellond.

Glorfindel entered the hall to find Barahir, Gilvegil and Daeron still there. The other Elves had left earlier, Daeron told him, once they saw that everything was under control.

“What’s the status here?” Glorfindel asked.

“All the students are accounted for,” Gilvegil answered. “Most are back but we have three tours that are still out. They were over at Max’s and apparently they got dumped with a lot of snow. They’re still digging out, but Max says everyone’s fine and they should be on their way within the hour.”

“We’ll have to reschedule the tours so the children can still meet with Santa,” Glorfindel said.

“And so, what happened?” Daeron asked. “Where’s Finrod?”

“In the hospital with a gunshot wound to his shoulder,” Glorfindel replied. He raised a hand to forestall the many questions that were stumbling out of the mouths of his listeners. “Time enough for explanations later. I’m going on to the hospital to check on things there. Dan, Roy, go over to the police station and find out how Farrell is doing. I want to make sure we know where he and his men are at all times.”

“Well, two of them are probably at the hospital being treated,” Elladan said. “I’m sure Dave is presently locking up Farrell and the other agent, the one you knocked out.”

“No doubt, but I want confirmation,” Glorfindel retorted and the Twins nodded in acknowledgment and set off in one direction while Glorfindel headed in another.

****

Armstrong and Pegg were brought to St. Luke’s for treatment under guard, while Farrell and the now conscious Grieve were taken to the police station where they were booked. Maddy protested, insisting that she should take custody of the agents, but Michaelson refused, stating that she could take it up with Judge Harrison in the morning.

“For now, they remain here behind bars where we know where they are,” he told her. “We’ll worry about the legalities of all this later.”

And with that she had to be content. As she watched Farrell and Grieve being led away to the small jail attached to the police station, she took out her phone, stepping outside, hoping she would be able to reach Washington. She gave a sigh of relief when she was able to get a signal and punched in a number and a few interminable seconds later, her secretary picked up.

 “Sarah, this is Madison. I need to speak with Tom Dunham in Legal… Yes, I’m afraid it’s a real mess out here. Give him this number and tell him to call me ASAP… I know it’s after hours there… Have him call me in the morning then. Make it eight my time… Thanks, Sarah. I’ll bring you back a souvenir.”

She closed down the phone and went back into the police station where she spoke to the sergeant on duty, asking directions for the nearest hotel. Fifteen minutes later, she was registering in the Goldmine Inn, unaware that the room to which she was shown had once been Farrell's.

****

When Glorfindel reached the hospital, he saw Vorondur on the phone, apparently speaking to Daeron. Findalaurë was sitting forlornly in one of the chairs, looking very uncomfortable.

“Yes, that’s right. I need every Elf here at the hospital to have their blood tested so we can determine if anyone other than Finda is a match for Finrod.... I know it’s a long shot but.... Are you sure? Okay, send him over.... Yes, I’ll keep you informed of his condition.”

He closed down the phone and nodded in greeting to Glorfindel. “Daeron says he thinks Vardamir might be able to stimulate Finrod’s blood production so we won’t need to deal with transfusions, which will only work if we have a match.”

 “How does he know this?” Glorfindel asked.

It was Finadlaurë who answered. “Vardamir is a battle surgeon and trained by Lord Irmo and Lady Estë. He knows many techniques of healing that I do not think even the sons of Elrond know for all that they are excellent healers in their own right.”

Vorondur nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised. And I have little knowledge of such things, having concentrated mainly on the diseases of the fëa rather than the hröa.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll see,” Glorfindel said.

“I’ll go tell Dr. Stoner,” Vorondur said, “then come back and wait for Vardamir. Kyle's asked me to join him in the surgery to help keep Finrod under. Once we get the bullet removed, we can concentrate on increasing his production of blood.”

Glorfindel nodded then sat beside Findalaurë, putting his arm around the ellon’s shoulders, giving him a warm and comforting hug. “It’s going to be all right. Your atar is in the best of hands.”

Findalaurë nodded but he didn’t look too convinced.

****

Artemus asked the deputy driving the car to drop him off at St. Luke’s so he could check on his friends. He found Vorondur standing there in scrubs along with Glorfindel and Vardamir as they spoke with Glorfindel.

The Elves looked up at his approach.

“So, are you Artemus or Alex?” Vorondur asked before the Mortal even opened his mouth in greeting.

Artemus took a deep breath before answering. “Artemus, mostly. Are you disappointed?”

Vorondur shook his head. “I told you once that a time might come when Artemus would save your life or the life of another. You utilized your training to help the others to escape from Farrell.”

“And then allowed them and me to be captured again,” Artemus said with a snort of disgust. “How are they, anyway? Derek and Zach, I mean. And what about Finrod and Lawrence?”

“Finda is fine or will be once he sees that his atar is well. He’s presently with Laurendil and Beleg. They’re at the cafeteria. We were  just telling Glorfindel that Finrod made it through surgery safely and is being taken to ICU. Derek and Zach are doing well. They’re going to spend the night here under observation and then be released in the morning.”

“Can I see them?”

“I don’t see why not. I believe they’ve been put in the same room. Let me go check.” He went to the nurse’s station and Artemus followed him. Ten minutes later, he was entering the room where his friends were.

“Hey,” he said somewhat uncertainly as he entered. Derek was sitting in a chair with the remote in his hands flipping channels while Zach lay in bed, though he was not sleeping. His left arm was in a cast and he looked less pale than before and no longer in pain.

Both men smiled at Artemus. “Hey, yourself,” Derek replied. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. How are you two holding up? Zach, are you in any pain?”

“No, I’m fine now that my arm is in a cast,” Zach answered. “Doctor says it’ll be six weeks before they can remove the cast. It’s a good thing I’m right-handed.”

“What about you, Derek?”

Derek shrugged. “I’ll live. I’m just glad that nightmare is over with. What happened to Farrell and his goons?”

“I think two of them are here in the hospital being treated. They’re both under guard and will be remanded to the jail once they’ve been released from the hospital. Farrell and Grieve have probably been booked by now.”

“Do you think there’ll be a trial or will they walk?” Zach asked.

“I have no idea,” Artemus said. “We’ll just have to wait and see what happens next.” He decided not to mention the presence of Maddy Washburn or what Farrell had said about Amroth. Time enough to fill them in on all that later. “Well, I’d best let you get some rest,” he said. “Ron says you’ll be out of here in the morning. You want me to pick you up?”

Both men nodded and after a couple of minutes in which they spoke of trivialities, Artemus left, making his way back to the Urgent Care waiting room.

Both Vorondur and Vardamir were out of scrubs. Laurendil and Beleg were there with Findalaurë; Laurendil had an arm around Findalaurë’s shoulders. They all looked up as he approached.

“How are Zach and Derek?” Glorfindel asked.

“They’re okay. I’m glad Zach is no longer in pain. Derek just looks bored.”

They all chuckled at that.

 “Vardamir and I are going to check in on Finrod and bring him out of healing sleep so he can see Finda and know that all is well. We were discussing the possibility of having at least one of us spend the night here keeping watch over Finrod.”

“Good idea,” Artemus said. “You may want to consider more than one person, just in case.”

“You think that would be necessary?” Vardamir asked with a raised eyebrow.

Artemus shrugged. “Just in case,” he repeated.

“Well, we’ll discuss it between us after we’ve seen Finrod,” Glorfindel said. “You need a ride back to campus?”

“I’ll grab a cab,” Artemus replied.

 “Why don’t you come over to Edhellond and spend the night there? I don’t know if you should be alone just now, do you, Ron?” Glorfindel said.

Vorondur shook his head. “No, I think you’ll be better off with us.”

“Well, Let me get a cab to the college. I’ll pack an overnight bag and then drive over,” Artemus said.

“You have money?” Glorfindel asked.

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll see you at Edhellond,” Glorfindel said.

Artemus sketched a salute in farewell and sauntered out of the building, hailing a cab.

****

While normally only two people would be admitted into ICU, the staff made an exception for the Elves, so Glorfindel, Vorondur, Vardamir and Findalaurë went in, while Beleg and Laurendil waited outside.

It turned out that Finrod was the only patient there, which made things easier for the Elves as Vorondur quietly brought Finrod out of healing sleep. The Elf prince blinked up at them, and smiled at the sight of his son, who was on the other side of the bed, holding his hand. Glorfindel and Vardamir were standing at the foot of the bed.

“Finda,” Finrod whispered and Findalaurë burst into tears. Glorfindel, being closer, came around and placed a comforting arm around the ellon’s shoulders. “Shh... it’s all right, child. See, your atar lives and will soon be well enough to make all our lives miserable.”

Findalaurë sniffled, chuckling slightly while Finrod glared up at his gwador, who merely stuck his tongue out and made a face. That set Vorondur and Vardamir laughing.

“We will not keep you awake long, Nephew,” Valandur said. “We wanted to let Finda see that you were on the mend.”

“And we have decided to take turns staying with you through the night. You will never be alone among the Mortals,” Vorondur assured him.

“Thank you,” Finrod said softly, sounding drained. He closed his eyes and Vorondur placed his hand on his forehead, softly singing. In minutes the Elf prince was in healing sleep.

“So, do we draw lots to determine who takes which watch?” Vorondur asked once he was satisfied that their royal patient was settled. He gave the monitors a critical look, apparently satisfied with what he saw.

“You mean play eeny, meany, miney, moe?” Glorfindel asked with a grin as they left ICU.

Vorondur chuckled, as did Beleg and Laurendil, though Vardamir and Findalaurë looked a bit confused by the reference. “Well, I think we should just put pieces of paper numbered one to six in a hat and draw.”

 “I think that’ll work,” Glorfindel said and they went to do just that.