26: Rescuing Elves

Finrod entered the OR, feeling out of his depth as seeming chaos flowed around him. The Mortals in the room were quietly going about the business of getting everything ready while Vardamir was speaking to Kyle Stoner who had finished getting gowned up before him. The two of them were standing over Glorfindel lying on the operating table.

“We’ll go in from this direction,” he heard Vardamir say and Kyle nodded and then he began talking in the arcane language of surgeons about procedures, none of which Finrod understood except in the most general way. He was not sure what his role was to be and kept out of everyone’s way, knowing he was not in charge here.

Vardamir turned, and seeing him, gestured him to come forward. “There’s internal bleeding,” he said by way of greeting. “We need to go in and fix the tear. I am going to have Eärnur generate the production of blood but we’re using Mortal blood as well.”

“But our types are not compatible, are they?” Finrod asked in confusion.

“To some extent, but not all, else there could be no viable progeny between our two races,” Vardamir replied. “We’ve filtered out those aspects of Mortal blood that might be incompatible with ours. We’re using O negative blood, which is the universal donor. Glorfindel’s blood type is almost AB positive, which helps, since AB types are considered universal receivers. It’s not a perfect solution, but we have few other options. Eärnur cannot generate enough blood in his marrow.”

Finrod nodded. “What do you wish me to do?”

“And me.”

They all turned to see Vorondur there. “I may have a medical degree but I have no surgical experience. Not my field.”

“For the most part, I need the rest of you to lend me your strength. I want a shield raised around Glorfindel. In his present state he’s vulnerable to any forces of evil. He’s already suffered cardiac arrest and I think that was induced by an outside force.”

Finrod felt himself go cold. “I have not sensed any evil here.”

“And I’m glad to hear it, but I still want that shield,” Vardamir said.

“Then you shall have it,” Finrod responded decisively.

“And Finrod,” Vardamir said, “keep an eye on Glorfindel’s fëa. I notice he’s not wearing his ring.”

“Whoever did this to him probably took it off him,” Finrod said in a cold voice. “Once the shield is raised, I will see to it that he does not slip his leash.”

Vardamir nodded and then sighed. “Well, let’s get on with it. Kyle, if you insist on being here I can’t really stop you, but be aware that I will not necessarily follow standard procedures. There is much of Elvish medical techniques about which you know little. However strange it might appear to you, do not interfere. If you don’t think you can do that, then why don’t you join David Michaelson in the observation deck?”

“Trying to get rid of me, are you?” Kyle said in a tight voice. “Well, it won’t work. This is my OR and I’m just lending it to you, so let’s stop arguing about it and save your friend. We’ll take your orders for now, but don’t make it a habit, at least, not until you’ve passed the boards.”

Vardamir nodded, then raised his voice to get everyone’s attention. “Laurendil, you and Manwen will assist Finrod and Vorondur in keeping this place shielded. Finrod will keep an eye on Glorfindel’s fëa, make sure it doesn’t wander off. Eärnur, you know what to do. Rachel, you’re with me.”

“What about anesthesia? Shouldn’t he be put under?” Rachel asked.

“No. I don’t trust anesthesia on one of us,” Vardamir said. He turned to see Elladan and Elrohir standing off to one side. “You two up to keeping him under?”

Elladan nodded. “We’ll take turns so as not to over-extend ourselves.”

“Good. The rest of you continue monitoring and seeing that we have everything we need. I have no idea how long this is going to take.” He stepped over to look down on Glorfindel. “Stay with us, meldonya,” he whispered in Quenya. Then, without looking at anyone he said in English, “Raise the shield and let’s begin.”

And in the observation deck, Dave Michaelson swore in shock as he watched a golden half-globe of light suddenly rise up and enclose the area below him, its opaque surface making it hard for him to see what was happening underneath it.

****

Valandur looked about the waiting room and resisted a sigh. After Vorondur had left, there was an uneasy silence between them all and then, almost as if on cue, those surrounding Helyanwë commandeered several rows of seats and were now sitting quietly, their expressions grim. Finda had whispered something to his gwedyr and Nell and they had wandered off, leaving Valandur standing in the middle of the waiting room feeling foolish, for Brethorn and Edrahil had also left, saying they wished to get some fresh air and would be back soon. Most of the Wiseman Elves were still clustered around Amroth and Daeron, quietly talking. He noted with approval that Melyanna, after hesitating for a moment, left the larger group and went to Daeron, who put an arm around her and gave her a kiss in comfort.

Valandur decided to join them, ignoring the glares from some of the Elves whom he passed. He was not about to get into a war of words over this. The Wiseman Elves were not the enemy. Amroth and Daeron looked up at his approach, their expressions neutral. Valandur hid a smile. “Anyone care to tell me what that was all about with Elrohir?” he asked quietly.

Both Amroth and Daeron shrugged.

“I see,” Valandur said, giving them a shrewd look, putting together a number of things from what had been said earlier and what was not being said now. Both ellyn looked embarrassed at his tone.

“I’m sorry Val,” Daeron said. “It’s not our tale to tell.”

“I understand, truly, and I don’t blame you for remaining quiet.” He glanced over to where the other Elves were sitting. “We need to do something about this or we will regret it.”

“Any suggestions?” Amroth asked with a sardonic twist of his lips.

“Oh, I’m full of suggestions, most of them having to do with drowning the whole lot of you or dropping you into a fiery pit. I’m about to swim back to Valinor and leave the rest of you to fend for yourselves.”

Several of the Elves surrounding them grinned. “And I’m about to join you,” Daeron said.

If Valandur meant to comment further, he was forestalled by the entrance of several distraught Mortals. Alex, Derek and Zach made a beeline toward them.

“What the hell happened? How’s Loren?” Alex demanded.

“How did—?” Daeron started to say but Alex cut him off.

“Finda called us and then we picked up Zach on the way.”

It was only then that Valandur noticed that Finda and the other three with him had returned, purposely staying in the background. Brethorn and Edrahil were with them, looking wary. Valandur recognized the look. He had seen it often enough on Ingalaurë and Intarion after they had been reborn and hoped that there would be no ‘Reborn incident’ on top of everything else.

“Well, we don’t know anything for sure,” Amroth was saying. “Loren’s in OR and all the healers are there. Beyond that, we have no further information.”

“Where was he though?” Derek asked.

“We don’t know,” Daeron answered. “He left Edhellond around four and no one saw him after that and then we got the call from the hospital.”

Alex narrowed his eyes, glancing at everyone, taking in every little detail. Valandur was fascinated by the way the Mortal quickly gauged everyone’s mood. He had even noticed him checking every exit, as if he might need to make a quick escape. He knew from speaking to the young Man how dangerous his life had been and he was seeing the consequences of that here. Alex Grant may no longer be a spy, but he was still acting as one.

“I see,” Alex finally said, and Valandur couldn’t help smiling at the response, an echo of his own.

“So why do I get the feeling we’ve stumbled into an armed encampment?” Derek asked in a rather laconic tone, his gaze flitting between the various groups of Elves.

“I’m afraid that certain things were said that has everyone else riled up,” Amroth answered.

“Well, someone better do something fast because you can cut the tension with a knife and I have a feeling something is going to explode and soon,” Alex said with a grimace then noticed Zach. “Zach, you’re looking faint. Let’s get you settled.”

“I’m all right,” the younger Man protested. “I… I guess I don’t handle things like this very well, not since….”

They gave him sympathetic looks. “It’s cool, mate,” Derek said. “I’m not feeling too sanguine myself. Let’s see if we can rustle up some terrible coffee. That’ll at least put hair on our chest if nothing else.”

Zach grinned.  “I’d better call Jud first and give him an update,” he said, turning to the Elves. “As soon as we heard, he started calling the others to let them know but I told him to tell them not to come here. This place is already crowded.”

Alex fished out some money from his pocket and asked Derek to bring back some coffee for him as well. The Elves assured Derek that they were fine. As he and Zach wandered off in search of the cafeteria, two other people came in, making their way to them.

“It’s Grand Central Station,” Daeron heard Alex mutter and suppressed a grin as he greeted the two arrivals. “Charles, Josiah, what are you doing here?” He shook the priest’s hand and then Josiah’s.

“We got called in,” Josiah answered.

“By whom?” Valandur asked, glancing to where Finda and the other youngsters were still standing, but he could see from their blank expressions that they had nothing to do with calling these particular Mortals.

“Not sure,” Charles replied. “Just was asked to come here. Oh, don’t worry. It’s an occupational hazard for us both.”

“So what can you tell us?” Josiah asked.

“Very little, I’m afraid,” Daeron replied. “We only know that Glorfindel went missing earlier today and then someone found him in a bad state. He’s in OR right now. Details are forthcoming.”

“Hmm… normally, someone calls one of us to give spiritual comfort and bless the person in the event that he doesn’t survive the trauma of surgery,” Charles explained, “but if Loren’s already being operated on, there’s nothing we can do other than pray.”

“Look, there’s Daniel,” Josiah said. “Daniel! Over here.” He gestured to Rabbi Cohen, coming out of one of the examining rooms. The rabbi was in his late forties, his hair still dark, wearing a neatly trimmed beard. When the Man neared them, Josiah held out his hand. “You on duty tonight?”

“Yes,” the rabbi replied, shaking Josiah’s hand and then Charles’ before nodding to the Elves and Alex. “Joseph Sorenson was supposed to be here,” naming the Presbyterian minister, “but he’s down with the flu so he asked me to take his shift. I was here earlier and saw all the action but couldn’t stick around as I was needed elsewhere.” He turned to the Elves. “So what has that mashuggner Elf done this time?”

Several eyebrows went up and Valandur saw Alex grin.

“He was mugged by person or persons unknown and apparently left for dead,” Daeron said softly. “He’s in OR now. We have no idea if he will pull through or not.” A pall settled over them all.

“That sounds so wrong on so many levels,” Daniel said with a shake of his head. “Well, what do you think we three should do about them?” He nodded to where the Valinórean Elves sat.

“You noticed that, too, did you?” Josiah said.

“Oy, the tension you can cut with a knife and I saw Roy go after that young woman sitting over there crying her eyes out. I smell murder and someone is bound to get hurt. We need to diffuse this before it gets out of hand.”

“You?” Valandur couldn’t help saying.

“But of course,” Charles said, giving them a serene smile. “Why do you think Josiah and I were called here, especially when Daniel was already here and could’ve been called in if needed? Now, what do you suppose we should do?” This last was directed at Josiah and Daniel as the three wandered away, their heads together.

Valandur gazed after them and then turned to Daeron and Amroth, his eyes full of questions. It was Daeron who answered. “I suspect that they will lead us all in prayer for Loren’s recovery,” he said with a shrug. “It’s a Mortal thing. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

About then, Zach and Derek returned with coffee. Alex accepted his cup gratefully. “What’s the deal?” Derek asked, nodding toward the three ministers.

“No idea, but we might find ourselves in the middle of a prayer fest or something.”

“Nothing wrong with prayer,” Derek said. “If nothing else, it’ll keep everyone too busy from wanting to strangle everyone else.”

“You feel it too, huh?” Zach said as he took a sip of his coffee. “This place is an explosion waiting to happen.” 

“Which is why we will diffuse it before it does,” Daniel Cohen said as he and the other two ministers rejoined them. Then, in a louder voice he addressed everyone in the waiting room. “Let us pray for one who hangs between life and death. Let us pray for those who fight to keep him alive. Come, let us all come together. Yes, all of you. You, too.” He gestured to where the Three Amigos, Nell and the two Reborn were congregated. “Come and join us.”

The six came closer with some reluctance, while Charles and Josiah chivvied the seated Elves to stand. Then Daniel spoke.

“For those who do not know us, I am Daniel Cohen, rabbi at Temple Beth El and acting as the hospital chaplain tonight. My colleagues are the Reverend Josiah Makepeace of the Hickory Street New Jerusalem Gospel Church on my right, and on my left is Father Charles Waverly, pastor of St. Mary of the Snow Catholic Church. We are all acquainted with Loren DelaFiore, whom you know as Glorfindel. We will lead you in prayer.”

“What do you mean by that?” one of the Elves asked.

“You’re about to find out,” Daniel said. “Let us begin.” He raised his hands on either side of him, palms up, and looked heavenward. “Blessed are you, O God, King of the Universe. We beseech you on behalf of one who lies between life and death. We ask you to bless him and those who work to save his life, and if it is your will that he lives, we thank you for your many mercies.” He lowered his arms and looked about. “Let us pray David’s psalm: The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want…”

Valandur watched with interest as every Mortal and even some of the Wiseman Elves joined the rabbi in reciting the psalm. The others looked on in bemusement, not sure what was going on or why. He could tell that some of his fellow Elves found this praying a strange custom and he had to admit that he was one of them, but right from the very beginning he felt a sense of calm flow over him.

“… Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…”

That sent a shiver through him, though he could not say why and he noticed one or two others gasping in shock at the words.

“… and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever. Amen.”

Daniel stepped back a bit and Charles stepped forward. “My brothers and sisters,” — and even Valandur felt his eyebrows leave his forehead at the Man’s form of address — “we are gathered here in this time of sorrow and grief over the fate of our brother, Loren, also known as Glorfindel, and we pray to the God Who created us all, to shower us with His blessings. Look kindly upon your poor children, Lord, and pour your Peace upon our troubled souls. Anger and sorrow consume us as we fear for one whom we love and we ask you to succor us and strengthen us in our hour of need. Let us, therefore, pray with confidence to the Father in the words our Lord taught us: Our Father, who art in heaven…”

Again, just about every Mortal there, including a few of the nurses and several others, joined in praying. Valandur noticed that Rabbi Cohen did not join in the prayer, but the Man had his eyes closed and his head was bowed in reverence.

“… and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For yours is the kingdom, the power and the glory, now and forever. Amen.”

Valandur wasn’t sure, but it seemed that as the prayer was recited, a deeper sense of calm settled over them and several of the Elves breathed in and out deeply, as if releasing the tension that had been building up. Charles stepped back and nodded at Josiah who raised his hands in benediction.

“Blessed are the sorrowful, for they shall be comforted,” he cried out. “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called Children of God. Oh Lord, we ask for your blessings and pray that you look kindly upon these poor souls who are hurting, hurting with anger and unforgiveness. Yes, Lord, they are ahurting and their hearts are heavy with sorrow for their brother, Loren. Some are full of anger and others are full of vengeance, but all know that vengeance is yours, Lord, and you will repay. Now, I know, Lord, that you love us all, but I suspect you love Loren a little more than most, so we ask that you keep him safe for us and return him to us, for he is our brother and we love him, but we know that your will is supreme and so if it is your desire that our brother leave us at this time we thank you for the gift that he is to us all and we will strive to go on without his wisdom and his humor and his generosity to all.”

Amazingly, nearly every Mortal there answered with a loud “Amen!” at those words. Valandur saw Josiah smile as he finished his prayer, addressing the Elves. “Love your enemies. Pray for those who do you an injury. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Show mercy and you will be granted mercy in return. Be peacemakers with one another and show us that you are indeed Children of the One Who created us all. Be our brothers and sisters in truth.”

For a long moment, no one spoke or moved, yet, Valandur could see that several of his fellow Elves looked more relaxed and focused. Even Helyanwë, who had been in tears earlier, appeared calmer. Josiah turned to look at the Wiseman Elves still standing to one side. “And that goes for you, too,” he said. Then he addressed the other two ministers. “So who goes for coffee?”

“It’s your turn,” Daniel replied. “I like mine black.”

“Milk, no sugar,” Charles said with a smile.

Josiah sighed. “I’m sure I got the coffee last time.”

“Yes, yes, that’s what you always say,” Daniel retorted with a wave of his hand. “Oy, such a whiner.”

“Amen,” Charles intoned solemnly, though he was smiling, giving the two fellows a fond look.

Josiah grinned and gave them a wink before he left and Valandur understood that the exchange between the three Men was one of deep friendship.

“I wonder how Loren is holding up?” Zach asked no one in particular, but it was obvious that question was on everyone’s mind.

****

“How’s he doing?” Vardamir asked, glancing at Finrod. “Any trouble?”

“No. His fëa appears quiescent. Are you almost done?”

“Nearly so. We’ve managed to stop the bleeding. Valar! The amount of damage he sustained, it’s amazing he wasn’t D.O.A. Sponge.”

“D.O.A.?” Finrod asked, turning to look at Elrohir, who was taking a break while Elladan kept Glorfindel unconscious.

“Dead on arrival,” the younger ellon answered woodenly, not looking at him. He was pale and the strain he’d been under was obvious. Finrod glanced at the wall clock. They’d been at it for over three hours and even he was beginning to tire, but he kept himself upright and focused on his gwador. He had had to look away when Vardamir started cutting into him and one of the Mortals quickly ran and found a stainless-steel basin, thrusting it at him. It took him a second to realize what the nurse was doing and he gave her an embarrassed look. She merely nodded and went back to her own duties. He put the basin aside and forced himself to turn back and watch. It had not been easy but after a while he managed to obtain clinical calmness.

“You’re doing fine,” he heard Kyle murmur. The Mortal doctor had stood on the opposite side of the table and watched as Vardamir worked on Glorfindel, offering quiet suggestions. “Steady and even. That’s it. Suction,” he ordered, holding out a hand. One of the nurses handed him a tube-like instrument and he placed it inside the cavity. Finrod could see reddish fluid flow along the tube. Vardamir merely nodded.

“That’s it,” Vardamir said, straightening. “Let’s close up.”

It took them nearly another half an hour to accomplish that and then both Vardamir and Kyle stepped back, pulling off their masks. Kyle, in spite of being a Mortal, looked no worse for wear and Finrod knew this was a common occurrence for the young Man. Vardamir looked a bit more frazzled and Finrod realized that for the Elf this had been a whole new experience.

“Get him into ICU,” Vardamir ordered the nurses. “Laurendil, can you and Manwen keep him under in healing sleep? Elladan and Elrohir appear done out.”

Finrod silently agreed with the healer’s assessment of the Twins as he willed the shield down. He could see that they were barely able to stand straight and, while the other Elves looked tired, he knew that the Twins were beyond exhaustion. “We’ll see to it,” Laurendil said and he and Manwen followed the nurses as they wheeled Glorfindel away.

“I think he should be kept under for a couple of days,” he heard Vardamir say to Kyle.

“Whatever you think best,” Kyle answered.

“I’ll go tell the others,” Vorondur said.

“I will come with you,” Finrod responded. “Vardamir, perhaps you can arrange for Elladan and Elrohir to be given a place to sleep nearby. I do not think they will make it back to Edhellond.”

Both twins started to protest but then Elrohir yawned and Elladan copied him. Vardamir and Kyle both gave them sympathetic looks. “Let’s get out of these scrubs and I’ll find beds for you,” the Mortal said and soon the room was empty. Finrod joined Vorondur as he headed for the waiting room. The two of them stopped as one when they saw the Elves now mingling, speaking quietly with one another, a few sipping coffee. Finrod was surprised to see so many Mortals there as well, waiting with the Elves. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up at Vorondur and Finrod.

“He’s out of surgery,” Vorondur said. “We’ve got him in ICU. Vardamir’s keeping him under for a couple of days to give him time to heal.”

There was a general sigh of relief. Vorondur raised his hands to forestall the inevitable questions. “Finrod and I are going to get out of scrubs. I suggest the rest of you go home. There’s nothing more any of you can do here. Loren’s in good hands. He’ll be closely monitored and guarded, I promise.”

“As do I,” Finrod said. “Please go home. I will join you soon. As I never got any dinner, perhaps someone would be kind enough to warm something up for me.”

“I’ll throw together something for you,” Daeron said. “I think I’ll just put some breakfast together and anyone who wants to can join you for a meal.”

“That sounds good,” Finrod said. “Any news from the police?”

“No and we are unlikely to hear anything for a day or two,” Amroth said. “Beleg and the two Legolases have not returned.”

“Someone should stick around so if they return here they will know where we’ve gone,” Finrod said.

“I’ll be here for a while,” Vorondur said. “I’ll keep an eye out for them. Let’s go change.”

“We’ll wait for you, Atto,” Finda said and Finrod nodded his thanks and followed Vorondur back down the hall.

“Thank you for your help,” Daeron said to the three ministers as people began making their way out.

“It was our pleasure,” Josiah answered for them all. “I hope it helped.”

“I’m sure it has,” Daeron said. “I’ll be sure to keep you informed as to Loren’s condition. Alex, Derek and Zach. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Alex said. “I don’t think we did much but hold people’s hands.”

“And that’s more than enough, believe me. Good night.”

Soon the waiting room emptied out until only Finda, his two gwedyr, Nell and Valandur remained, Valandur keeping a proprietary eye on the youngsters. Ten minutes later, Finrod joined them and they left, walking quietly through the dark town, each lost in their own thoughts.

****

Mashuggener: (Yiddish) Crazy.

Fëa: (Quenya) Spirit, soul.