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Elf Academy 3: The Enemy Within  by Fiondil

14: The Wiseman Intelligence Agency Meets

The tensions brought on by Finrod’s episode and Glorfindel’s response to it did not disappear altogether, only fading into the background, but Finrod had the feeling that lines were being drawn and he wondered how that would affect them all. He wished that he could speak with his Atar or Anatar about it, for he had always valued their wisdom and missed it and them.

In the meantime, he returned to work the next day, assuring Nick that he was fine. “But please do not ask me to shelve those kinds of books,” he pleaded. “Just touching them leaves me feeling… unclean.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t care for the genre myself, although there are some books that aren’t all that bad and they don’t have vampires or werewolves in them. In fact, there’s one series where the woman falls in love with some Elf prince who’s been exiled to our world from Faerie because of political machinations back home.” He gave Finrod a knowing grin.

Finrod raised an eyebrow, but decided not to take the bait. “I think I prefer reading those fairy stories that are read to children.”

“Most of them are sanitized and sugar-coated for the little tots, but the original stories by the Brothers Grimm were often… er… grim.” Nick gave him an apologetic look. “Well, anyway, I’m glad you’re feeling better. Guess your estimation of us Mortals dropped below zero after this, huh?”

“Not at all,” Finrod assured him, “but I have to confess, my views about you have been altered somewhat. I cannot help comparing the Mortals of this time with those I knew before and finding you all wanting in some manner. It is rather arrogant of me, I know. You are all estimable and worthy of respect, but some aspects of your culture leave me cold and I have to wonder how deeply Morgoth’s influence has affected you all.”

Nick looked troubled and ashamed at the same time and Finrod’s heart went out to the young Man. Instinctively, he reached out and gave him a hug, which apparently surprised the Mortal, for he stiffened automatically and Finrod released him sooner than he would have had he been comforting one of his own kind, recognizing that such actions were not the norm for the Mortals of this time and place. Nick gave him a confused look, as if unsure how to respond to the Elf’s actions. Finrod forestalled anything the Man was about to say by turning away and busying himself with straightening some of the shelves in the children’s section.

The awkwardness of the moment was brief for the door opened just then and Alex and Derek walked in.

“Hey! Heard there was some trouble yesterday,” Alex said in greeting. “You okay?” He directed the question to Finrod, giving him a concerned look.

“And where did you hear this?” Finrod asked with a frown, glancing at Nick, who shook his head and shrugged, letting him know that he was not the source of the information.

“Derek and I overheard a couple of Elves talking about it,” Alex responded.

“Overheard?” Finrod echoed, now feeling suspicious.

“Yeah, over at the Safeway, just a while ago,” Derek answered. “They were speaking Sindarin and we heard your name come up.”

“Who were they?” Finrod asked.

Alex shrugged. “He had dark hair, she had blond. Um… Daisy was with them. I think she was doing the actual shopping while the other two were just tagging along. Daisy saw us and warned the other two and they clammed up. Derek and I pretended we hadn’t heard anything and just said hello and we chatted for a bit. Daisy introduced the others as Eric and Linda.”

“So, what’s the deal?” Derek asked. “All we heard was that you freaked out for some reason, though that’s not exactly what they said. I don’t think you can actually say ‘freaked out’ in Sindarin. They said something about you becoming very upset over some book and its contents and… er… Lord Námo showed up. Dude doesn’t show up unless there’s serious shi… I mean, stuff going on.”

Finrod sighed. “It is nothing really. I assure you I am fine. I would appreciate it if you would forget about it. It is no concern of yours.” Even as he said the words, he knew they were wrong, for he could see both Alex and Derek stiffening at the rebuff. “I am sorry. I do not mean to shut you out, and I appreciate your concern, but I really do not wish to discuss it. Not now.”

Derek shrugged and Alex seemed to unbend a bit, though he still looked hurt. “Well, yeah, I guess it’s none of our business,” he said. “Sorry to barge in on you like this. We’ll be going then. C’mon Derek. I still need to stop at the drug store. See ya, Nick. Finrod.”

Before either Nick or Finrod could respond, the two men were out the door and heading away. Finrod gave Nick a chagrined look. “I think I could have handled that better.”

Nick shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll get over it, but them overhearing those two Elves speaking about what happened? That’s not good. I don’t think Eric and Linda, or whatever their names are, realized that some of the people wandering about in that store are pretty conversant with Sindarin, probably more so than Alex and Derek, because many of us have been taking lessons in the language — and Quenya, too — for a couple of years now.”

“You are right,” Finrod acknowledged, “and I will make sure everyone is made aware of this. Erestor and his wife probably felt safe enough speaking in Sindarin, not realizing what you have said about some of the Mortals knowing the language.”

“Well, the last thing you need right now is for the good people of Wiseman to think there’s dissension in the ranks, so to speak,” Nick pointed out. “Whatever disagreements you lot may have between you, you need to present a united front to the rest of us or it all goes south in a real hurry and all that Loren and the others have accomplished here gets blown out of the sky.”

Finrod gave him a considering look. “You are very wise, Nicholas Greene.”

“Yeah, well, us INFJs are known for that,” the Man countered with a blush.

“Tell me more about what INFJs are supposed to be like,” Finrod said, willing to change the subject and Nick spent the next several minutes happily outlining the personality of a typical INFJ.

****

Alex and Derek got into Alex’s car but Alex did not start it up immediately, simply sitting there, staring out the windshield. Derek, recognizing his friend’s mood, remained silent. Finally, Alex turned to him with a steely look.

“Are you as tired as I am of being ‘put in my place’ by one Elf after another?”

Derek shrugged. “He’s right, though. It’s really none of our business. But I agree that honest overtures of sympathy should not be dismissed out of hand simply because we’re Mortals. Nick obviously knows about it. Did you notice how Finrod looked at him almost accusingly, thinking Nick had blabbed?”

“Yeah, I did,” Alex said as he put on his safety belt and turned the key over. “Still, I’m worried.”

“About what?” Derek asked as he fastened his own safety belt.

“You and I barely understand Sindarin, but I know damn well that probably half the people in that store know it better than we do and, while people don’t normally eavesdrop on other people’s conversations while in public, it’s impossible not to hear snatches and I saw at least two women lingering over the meats while those two Elves stood there discussing Finrod.”

“You noticed that?” Derek asked with an amused look.

Alex flashed him a smile as he began to pull out of the parking space. “Training, remember? I can’t even walk into Elf Academy, never mind a grocery store, without automatically cataloguing where all the exits are and where all the potential ambushes may be. It’s so ingrained in me, I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

He suddenly stopped and shifted gears to forward, returning to the space he’d just vacated and putting the car in park but not turning off the engine. Instead, he undid his buckle, fishing in one of his pockets and pulling out his cell phone.

“Who are you calling?” Derek asked, but Alex did not answer, holding up a finger for quiet.

“Ron?...Yeah, it’s Alex. Listen, I’m downtown with Derek. We’re just on our way home from shopping. Ran into Finrod, well actually we didn’t so much run into as we barged into. Anyway, I think you need to know this. While we were at the Safeway we overheard a conversation between two of your Valinórean Elves who were speaking in Sindarin and they were discussing Finrod. Not sure what it was all about exactly. Something to do with a book that upset him and they were not happy with Loren for some reason. That’s as much as Derek and I figured out before Daisy, who was there, told the other two to shut it.”

He paused and listened for a moment. “Yeah, well, if Derek and I who barely know the language can figure that much out and know that all’s not well in paradise, what about everyone else who was there and have a better understanding of the language than we do? You see where I’m going with this?”

He paused again, rolling his eyes at Derek, who merely grinned, then motioned for Alex to give him the phone.

“Hang on, Ron. Derek wants to say something.” He handed the phone to his friend.

“Ron?.... Yeah, I know it’s none of our business, but put your ear to the ground, man, and listen to the drums. I guarantee that if just one person overheard that conversation enough to figure out something, even if it’s the wrong something, it’s going to be on everyone else’s lips before sundown. We’re not saying anything you don’t already know, but we are saying you need to alert the troops that loose lips sink ships and all that. Your friends cannot make the mistake of underestimating us, especially those of us who are not on your side.”

He listened for a moment and then handed the phone back to Alex.

“Yeah, Ron, I’m here,” Alex said. He listened for a moment. “No. Neither of us have any plans.” He gave Derek an enquiring look and the former sailor shook his head. “Okay. We just need to go home and drop off the groceries and then we’ll be over.” He glanced at the clock on the dash. “About an hour? Yeah, that works. See ya.” He disconnected the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket while simultaneously pulling the seat belt around him. “He wants to see us in an hour at his place,” he explained to Derek as he shifted into reverse and pulled out. “Amroth will be there and I guess what’s-his-name, Val. It looks as if the Wiseman Intelligence Agency is about to go into action.”

Derek’s only response was a raised eyebrow.

****

Amroth met them at the door, gesturing them inside. “I’ve got coffee percolating,” he told them as they doffed their jackets and hung them in the front closet. “Ron went to get Val who was last seen by anyone heading toward Nolan.”

“Why?” Derek asked.

“I have no idea. I’ve been to Nolan. There’s nothing there, but Valandur is something of a maverick among the Elves.”

“Oh?” Alex said. “In what way?”

Amroth gave them an amused look as he led them into what was termed ‘the study’, gesturing for them to sit. “In a lot of ways,” he answered. “You may not have noticed, but he’s picked up modern idioms quicker than the others, even Finrod. That’s his training. He is a lambengolmo, what you would call a linguist.”

“I thought he was a spymaster,” Alex said.

“That too, but he was originally trained in linguistics, so he’s fascinated with the different ways in which Mortals communicate. He spends hours wandering about observing and listening to people speaking and interacting. He’s been pestering me and Loren and Ron about the various mortal languages he’s heard. Wiseman is a nowhere place but English is not the only language spoken here. We have a large Inuit community as well as a smattering of other ethnic groups, recent immigrants to America, who retain their own languages.”

“Yeah, you don’t think about that,” Alex commented. “You assume most immigrants are going to be in the large cities in the lower forty-eight, not finding their way to a place like Wiseman.”

“Well, at any rate, Val is in hog heaven and I suspect he decided to check out Nolan to see if there are any dialectal differences between the two communities.”

Both Alex and Derek shook their heads in bemusement. Before either could comment, though, they heard the sound of the front door opening and of what appeared to be an argument between two people. Alex and Derek recognized Ron’s voice and had to assume the other was Val. Both were speaking in what the Mortals recognized as Quenya, though neither understood the language as yet.

Amroth just grinned. “I’ll go see about the coffee,” he said as he left the study, looking down the hall to the front door and gabbling something in Quenya to the other two Elves as he headed in the opposite direction. Seconds later Vorondur and Valandur entered the study.

“Nolan?” Derek asked before anyone else could offer greetings. “Are you a glutton for punishment, mate?”

Valandur actually blushed and refused to look at either Mortal. Vorondur grimaced, obviously disgusted. “He was alone, too. No phone on him, either. If he’d gotten into any trouble, I don’t even want to think about it.”

“What trouble could I have possibly gotten into?” Valandur asked, looking puzzled.

Both Alex and Derek gave him disbelieving looks. “You’re kidding, right?” Alex demanded, standing to face the loremaster. “You’re in a foreign country, surrounded by people you don’t know, but some of them have no love for your kind and this is Alaska. Much of this place is still wilderness and not all the animals you might encounter are going to be cute little bunny rabbits hippiting-hoppiting down the lane. Elf or no, you have no business wandering about like that. And I’m sorry, but there are people out there who get off on raping and murdering hitchhikers and they aren’t necessarily choosy about their victim’s gender.”

Valandur stiffened, going pale at Alex’s words. Vorondur cast his fellow Elf an amused look. “Not used to being reprimanded by one of the Secondborn, are you?” he asked softly.

Valandur sniffed. “Say rather, I am unused to being reprimanded by anyone. Even Ingwë long ago ceased to try.”

“Oh man, and I thought us guys were bad with our pissing contests,” Derek interjected, giving them a whistle.

Before anyone else could comment, Amroth entered with a tray. “So where did you find him?” he asked Vorondur as he put the tray down on the desk that was nestled in one corner of the room.

“About two miles out of town,” Vorondur answered. “Had the devil’s own time convincing him to return here with me. Stubborn as the day is long. Are all Vanyar like that?”

“Wouldn’t know,” Amroth replied equably as he poured himself a cup. “Help yourselves.”

Alex and Derek took a few minutes to fix their own mugs of coffee, but neither Vorondur nor Valandur bothered. Valandur still looked miffed but said nothing.

“So, Alex, you want to explain?” Vorondur suggested as they all sat.

Alex took a sip of coffee and then spoke about what he and Derek had overheard in the Safeway and how Finrod had reacted when they stopped at the bookstore to enquire about him. Derek put in his own observations. Alex noticed that Valandur’s attitude shifted during the course of his narrative and he now had a troubled look on his face.

“Erestor should have known better,” he said when the two Mortals ceased to speak. “I cannot believe he would be that stupid or arrogant.”

“He and Linda appeared rather upset as they were speaking, but I couldn’t figure out if they were upset about Finrod or about Loren,” Derek chimed in.

“More than likely, both,” Amroth replied. “Erestor and Glorfindel were very close friends at one time, both serving Elrond in Imladris. They had mutual respect for one another, so I imagine that Loren’s reaction to what happened with Finrod upset him. His wife is Finrod’s squire, after all, so there is a loyalty issue involved.”

“And that loyalty is going to get stretched, I would imagine,” Alex commented, “especially if people are taking sides. If you’re not careful, it’s going to end up being Team Finrod vs. Team Glorfindel and that’s the last thing we need.”

“You are correct,” Vorondur said. “Unfortunately, we have no idea if anyone else overheard enough to figure out something was wrong. We’re going to have to wait until the rumors start coming in before we can counter them, if that’s even possible.”

“It is a pity you Mortals no longer have wandering minstrels,” Valandur said. “They have proven very useful in gathering and disseminating information, countering sentiments detrimental to the well-being of the kingdom with song.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll have to work around that little handicap,” Alex said somewhat sardonically.

Valandur was about to retort with what would no doubt be a biting remark, but Vorondur forestalled him. “Let’s all take a deep breath and a step back,” he ordered. “Val, your observation, while valid, has nothing to do with the situation we find ourselves in. Alex, Derek, you need to stop reacting to every little thing some of the Elves might say. Arrogance is something we all have in common and frankly the attitudes need to be parked at the door if we’re going to be successful in working together. We need each other.”

“Well said.”

They all looked up in surprise to see Fionwë standing in the doorway with Olórin right behind him.

Elves and Mortals rose, but Fionwë gestured them back down. “No need for that,” he said. “We decided to join you in your discussion and offer a possible solution to the situation in which you find yourselves.”

“And what would that be, my lords?” Valandur asked respectfully.

“Me,” Olórin replied.

“I don’t understand,” Derek said and Alex nodded in agreement.

Fionwë nodded at Olórin. “Show them.”

Olórin nodded in return. As the Elves and Mortals looked on, there was a shimmering and the Maia’s features began to change. In seconds they found themselves looking at someone who appeared to be a Man with gray hair and beard, dressed in faded jeans and a navy blue turtleneck under a ragged looking gray cardigan that obviously had seen better days.

“Neat trick,” Derek offered and Olórin rewarded them with a wide grin.

“So, how exactly does this help us?” Alex asked.

“One of Olórin’s talents is to be able to inspire hope and lighten spirits,” Fionwë explained. “He has often walked among Elves and Mortals unseen, or at least, unremembered, yet leaving wisdom and fair visions in his wake. He can do so here, and indeed, has done so these last two years, though you knew it not.”

“But what exactly can you do?” Derek asked.

“I can do nothing to stop the rumors should they appear,” Olórin answered, “but I can insert myself into conversations, countering any negatives. People will listen to what I have to say but once I leave their vicinity they will forget they ever saw me, yet my words will remain. They are free to accept or reject my message, but they will not be able to ignore it.”

“That sounds rather handy,” Amroth said.

Olórin smiled. “Lord Manwë has often commanded me to walk unseen among you Mirroanwi for that very purpose.”

“Seems to me that if you can do that sort of thing, we’re pretty superfluous,” Alex said.

“Not at all,” Olórin said. “After all, Maia I may be, but I cannot be everywhere at once. You must do your own bit, all of you. We Maiar have had limitations placed upon us by our masters with respect to how and in what manner we can help you. We cannot and will not do your work for you, but we will help as we can.”

“Well, I know how effective you are, Olórin,” Valandur said, “and I welcome your help. Are you aware of rumors spreading yet?”

“No, but give it time. It’s not even noon yet,” the Maia said with a twinkle in his eyes. “You should be hearing the first rumors by mid-afternoon. In fact, young Nicholas and Prince Finrod are about to see an increase in customers, curious to see if the rumors are true. And while they’re sneaking peeks at the once king of Nargothrond, they might even make a purchase or two along the way.”

Several eyebrows went up.

“Well, in that case, you have your work cut out for you,” Vorondur said with a knowing smile and Olórin chuckled, fading away, leaving his fellow Maia alone with three Elves and two Mortals. Looking at him, though, Alex had the feeling that Fionwë was not the one who was outnumbered.

****

Words are Quenya:

Anatar: Grandfather; in this instance, Olwë.

Mirroanwi: Plural of mirroanwë: An Incarnate, i.e. an Elf or Mortal.





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