28: Fanning the Flames

Elladan woke in the dark, not sure where he was for a second or two, wondering at the fact that his eyes had been closed. Then he recognized the hospital room and all that had happened came to the fore of his memory. He sat up and saw his brother still sleeping. Serindë was sitting in a chair quietly reading from her e-reader, which she had in night mode, for none of the lights were on. She looked up.

“You should be asleep,” she whispered.

“What time is it?”

“Nearly four. You’ve only been asleep for about three hours or so.”

“Three hours. I must be getting old. Time was I could’ve gone with just an hour of sleep.”

Serindë grinned. “So should I be calling you gramps instead of brother?”

“No. Loren is gramps, remember?” Then the moment of levity passed as he recalled that Loren was in ICU fighting for his life. He knew that the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours were critical. At the moment Loren’s condition was labeled as ‘guarded’. He climbed out of bed, unconcerned that he was wearing only shorts and that there was an elleth who was neither his naneth nor his sister in the room. He padded to one of the lockers where patients could place their belongings and pulled out his jeans and shirt before making his way into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door. He came out a few minutes later, now dressed, and saw Elrohir was still sleeping and Serindë was still reading.

“Any chance of getting some coffee?” he asked quietly as he stood over his sleeping twin, automatically gauging Elrohir’s condition.

“There’s a kitchen down the hall. Would you like me to get you some?” Serindë said.

“No, I’ll get it, thanks.” He hunted about for his shoes and socks, and finding them under his bed, put them on. Straightening, he gave Serindë a brief smile. “I’ll be right back.”

“It’s to your left,” Serindë said helpfully and Elladan nodded and went around the privacy curtain that had been pulled across, blocking the view from the corridor. He found himself blinking at the relative brightness as he stepped out of the room, though he knew the lights had been dimmed for the night. The corridor was nearly empty with the nurses’ station at the other end on his left. One or two nurses were either going into or coming out of rooms, checking on patients, then logging the information into their laptops. Monitors were scattered about, as well as a wheelchair or two, cluttering up the hallway. Even as he headed down the hall, the call light over one of the rooms lit green, alerting the nurses that a patient was in need. He nodded approvingly at the speed with which one of the nurses responded as he passed her.

Reaching the station, he greeted the people there. Two Women and a Man were working. One of the Women wore the white coat of a doctor, and he recognized her as she looked up from the laptop sitting on a cart before her.

“Doctor Ronaldson,” she said. “How are you?”

“As soon as I’ve had at least one cup of coffee, I’ll let you know,” he responded with a grin and everyone chuckled. “Didn’t your shift end hours ago, Dr. Chandler?”

“Well you know how it is,” she responded. “One of my patients had a minor relapse. She’s stable now, but….”

“Care if I take a look?” Elladan asked, his healer’s curiosity getting the better of him, the wish for coffee momentarily forgotten.

“Sure. Here, let me show you.” She gestured at her laptop, moving slightly to give him room to stand beside her. “Patient came in complaining of cramps and….”

She began rattling off medical jargon and Elladan asked her questions relating to treatment and prognosis, listening to her describe the antibiotics that had been given as a matter of course and what the blood work and an ultrasound had revealed, or not revealed. He stared at the screen, mentally analyzing the data. He frowned. Something didn’t quite add up. “Mind if I examine the patient?” he asked.

For a moment the Woman hesitated and then shrugged. “Room three-oh-five,” she said and Elladan followed her around the corner to another hall and they entered the designated room. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness but he could see there was only one patient hooked up to monitors. He automatically glanced at them, cataloging the information as he stepped closer to the bed. He looked down at the Woman, who stirred slightly in her sleep. She appeared to be in her thirties and was quite lovely even lying in a hospital bed hooked up to IVs.

He closed his eyes and held his hands out, palms down, and concentrated, feeling for the energy field that surrounded every living thing, just as his adar had taught him so very long ago. At the thought of his adar and what Vardamir had told him about Elrond, his concentration faltered and he mentally chastised himself for his inattentiveness. Putting aside all thoughts, stilling his mind as he’d been taught, he ‘looked’ into the Woman’s body, feeling the flow of blood, hearing the pumping of the heart and the suspiration of the lungs breathing in and out. He could see the energy field fluctuating in brightness, indicating illness, for in a healthy person, that field would remain essentially steady. There was a dark spot in the field and he focused his attention on that, recognizing what it meant.

He opened his eyes and looked over to where the doctor stood watching him and jerked his head in the direction of the door. She nodded and exited with him following. “What did you learn?” she asked softly as they headed back to the nurses’ station.

“The area around her womb is infected. She may need to undergo a hysterectomy.”

“We ruled that out,” Chandler said, frowning. “It was the first thing I thought of when she came to us, but there was nothing in the blood work or in the ultrasound to indicate there was a problem with her uterus.”

“Yet, the source of her affliction is there,” Elladan said with authority. “Her energy field is fluctuating wildly and there is a… hole… for lack of a better word, centered around her womb. Blood work can be inconclusive, and even ultrasound doesn’t always tell you what you need to know. Energy fields never lie.”

“I’ll check again. Damn! She was telling me she and her husband were thinking of trying for a baby. They have one child and want a second. If what you say is true…”

“Better to lose the ability to bear more children than to die, leaving the one child motherless,” Elladan said softly. “And they could always adopt. Too many children are without loving parents.”

“Tell me about it,” Chandler said. “I’m adopted myself. I know of what you speak.”

Elladan gave her a surprised look, not having known this. “Then you are obviously the right person to speak to her and her husband about it,” he said. “Well, I’m still looking for some coffee and I had better get some for Roy. He’s just woken up.”

“Twins,” Chandler said with a grin. “Thanks for your help, Dan. I appreciate it. Wish I had your gift for diagnosing problems.”

“You do well enough, Janet,” Elladan replied with a smile. “And I’m sure you would’ve figured it out without my help.”

“But not as quickly and the patient would have suffered longer because of it,” Janet retorted with a scowl. “I think I rely too much on technology and not enough on good old-fashioned intuition. Not a good thing for any doctor.”

“Well, I’m glad I was able to help. Good night or good morning, as the case may be.”

“I’ll catch you later. Say hello to Roy for me.”

“Will do.” Elladan gave her a short bow and made his way back to where the kitchen was and grabbed some coffee for himself and for his brother and, as an afterthought, made some for Serindë as well, finding a tray to put everything on. He nodded to the nurses as he headed back down the hall.

Inside the room, the main light had been switched on. Serindë was still sitting in the chair; Elrohir was nowhere in sight but the bathroom door was closed and he could hear water running.

“I got coffee for everyone,” he said as he entered and brought the tray down so Serindë could take a cup, thanking him. The bathroom door opened and Elrohir stepped out, turning off the light.

“Room service. I love it,” he said, accepting a cup.

“Next time, I’ll loll in bed while you go get the coffee,” Elladan retorted, putting the tray down and taking a sip, sighing in relief as the bitter brew slipped down his throat, warming him.

“How’s Loren?” Serindë asked. “Did you go check on his condition? I wondered why you were so long.”

Elladan shook his head. “Ran into Janet Chandler,” he said, speaking more to Elrohir than to Serindë. “She was having difficulty diagnosing a patient. I helped her out.”

“Well, let’s go see how Loren is, then,” Elrohir said, taking a gulp of his coffee as he headed for the door. The other two followed, turning right and heading for the bank of elevators. Even though the hospital was in shut-down mode and there were few medical personnel around, they still encountered one or two of the staff, giving them greetings. Everyone asked after Glorfindel and wished him a speedy recovery. Stepping off the elevator they moved down the dark hall to ICU, stopping at the front desk to speak with the nurses and to look at Loren’s chart.

“He’s in room three,” one of them said. “One of your people is with him at all times and there’s a police officer standing guard.”

The Twins nodded. Elrohir turned to Serindë. “They won’t let you in,” he said, giving her a kiss. “We won’t be long.”

“I’ll wait here,” Serindë said, kissing him back.

The Twins headed for Loren’s room. The police officer, a young Man who probably was fresh out of the police academy, was sitting in a chair beside the door. He stood as the two Peredhil approached.

“Sorry, gentlemen, but no visitors,” he said, holding up one hand to stop them.

“We’re not visiting, officer,” Elladan said. “We’re here to examine the patient. I’m Doctor Ronaldson and this is my brother, also Doctor Ronaldson.”

The young officer gave them a suspicious look, glancing at their attire. Neither was wearing a lab coat. Elladan fished about in one of the pockets of his jeans and pulled out his laminated hospital ID card hanging on a lanyard.

“Here,” he said, showing the officer the ID. Elrohir pulled out his own ID. The young Man scrupulously examined the two IDs before handing them back.

“I guess I can let you enter,” he said dubiously as the two Peredhil placed their IDs over their heads.

Elladan smiled. “Good lad. You’re doing an excellent job.” On that rather condescending note, he opened the door, letting Elrohir enter the dark room, lit only by blinking monitors and a single fluorescent light over the bed. Eärnur was there, sitting in a chair reading a magazine. He looked up.

“How’s he doing, Ernie?” Elrohir asked as he went to stand beside the bed, automatically glancing at the monitors.

“Ernest, please,” Eärnur said.

The Twins grinned at him. “Your fault for picking a wimpy-sounding name,” Elladan said.

The Teler sniffed. “Daeron said to pick a name that was as close in sound as our own to make it easier for us to remember it. I cannot help it if my name does not fit well with Mortal names.”

“Any change in his condition?” Elrohir asked, switching to Quenya.

“No. He’s been stable for some time now,” Eärnur answered. “Right now, he’s holding his own,” he ended. “We’ll know better what his ultimate condition is once we bring him out of healing sleep, but that won’t be for a while.”

The three stared down at the still figure of the Elf-lord, hooked up to IVs and monitors and with a oxygen tube in his nose, looking extremely pale. Eärnur glanced at the sons of Elrond. “I’m surprised you two are awake already. Last I saw you, you were dead on your feet.”

The Twins shrugged almost as one. “Well, we slept enough,” Elrohir said, not really paying attention to the Teler, brushing a hand through Glorfindel’s hair, an intimate gesture.

Elladan glanced at his brother. “Mir told me that Lord Irmo made Ada his apprentice,” he said, switching effortlessly to Sindarin.

Elrohir looked up in surprise, turning to Eärnur. “Is this true?”

Eärnur nodded. “Oh yes. Silly ellon fought against it, of course. Most of Lord Irmo’s people usually do, at least the better ones. I certainly did.” He gave them a grin.

“Why would Ada be made an apprentice, though?” Elrohir asked, frowning. “He’s one of the most gifted healers this world has ever known.”

“This world, yes,” Eärnur agreed, “but this world is not Aman and your adar never had the benefit of being trained by the Powers.”

“And Ada allowed himself to be humiliated by becoming a lowly apprentice when he should have been accepted as a master in his own right?” Elladan demanded hotly.

Eärnur gave them a puzzled look. “If there was any humiliation it was only in his mind and in yours. I assure you—”

“It’s because he’s peredhel, isn’t it?” Elladan interrupted. “If Ada were a pure-blooded Elf, I bet he wouldn’t have been treated so shabbily. No doubt he was never allowed to forget it, either.”

“You’re taking this the wrong way,” Eärnur said. “Of course Elrond is peredhel, so is his sire, Eärendil, yet he is highly respected as a lord of the realm, as is his lady, Elwing. No one disparages them or your adar.”

“And yet, you all are quick to disparage us,” Elrohir retorted.

“What do you mean?”

“Assigning us both to keep Loren under during surgery,” Elladan answered.

“And so? Look at you. Even taking turns you were both depleted of energy.”

“We were the only ones,” Elladan shot back. “No one else even looked as if they were tired. We even ended up sleeping here instead of going home with the others.”

“Elladan, anyone of us would have been as depleted of energy as you were had we been asked to keep Glorfindel under. That’s the hardest part in all this. What the rest did is as nothing.”

“Yet we do not even know how to raise such a shield,” Elrohir interjected. “Finrod and the others, they just did it and maintained it without raising a sweat.”

“And that is why your adar became an apprentice to Lord Irmo,” Eärnur said. “Even he did not have such knowledge, knowledge that any journeyman healer has, indeed, it’s a skill that is commonly taught to all our children. Even the Three Amigos and Nielluin can do it, though I doubt they can maintain it for as long as we did during surgery. Neither of you have any reason to be ashamed of your heritage.”

“We’re not,” Elladan protested, “but ever since you all came here I’ve gotten the feeling that you don’t think we’re worthy or something, that we’re inferior because of our mixed heritage.”

“Or simply because we stayed behind,” Elrohir added. “I think most of you still look down on all the Wiseman Elves because of that, even Glorfindel.”

“I know that some may have felt that way at first,” Eärnur said, “but I don’t think they see you that way now, especially with you acting as healers. You have acquired skills in treating Mortals that we have yet to learn.”

Just then the door opened and they all turned in surprise to see Finrod there. He glanced at Loren and then his gaze flicked between the three ellyn, apparently gauging their moods. “Come outside, all of you. No, Glorfindel is fine. Come. I think we need to talk.”

“What are you doing here, Quinn?” Elladan asked as he and Elrohir complied to the Elf-lord’s command. Eärnur hesitated for a moment before following them.

“I came to spell Eärnur,” he answered, nodding to the young police officer as he passed him.

“I am fine,” Eärnur said. “You need not have come, Findaráto.”

“Nevertheless, you should go home and rest, or find a place here,” Finrod said. “I will watch over Glorfindel. In the meantime, I want to know what all the shouting was about.”

“We weren’t shouting,” Elrohir protested.

“Perhaps not with your voices but I could sense the tension before I even opened the door. What has you two so riled up?”

“They were upset at the news that Lord Irmo relegated their atar to apprentice status,” Eärnur said before either twin could answer. He gave Finrod a knowing grin. “You remember how much he fought the idea?”

“He was appalled,” Finrod replied with a nod. “I was sure he was going to attack Lord Irmo right then and there and he refused to speak to any of us for days afterwards.”

“But he became an apprentice in the end, didn’t he?” Elrohir asked. They were back at the nurses’ station and Serindë came and wrapped her arms around him.

“Yes, eventually,” Finrod answered. “Laurendil helped him to accept it having had a similar experience himself when Lord Irmo called him to become a healer. You should not be upset by this. Elrond did not remain an apprentice for long and was promoted to journeyman status much sooner than is normal. He’s a respected master now.”

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?” Elladan retorted hotly. “It sounds as if everything he was, everything he knew and had learned while here counted for nothing. He was recognized as a master healer only on your terms and not his. I have no doubt there were things he didn’t know, like raising that shield you raised over Loren, but that’s just technique and easily taught, or so I would think. He should have been recognized as a master healer in his own right from the very first instead of being treated like some raw recruit who’s still wet behind the ears.”

“And what about us?” Elrohir added before either Finrod or Eärnur could reply.

“What about you?” Finrod asked.

“Mir made it clear that he knew we couldn’t keep Loren under on our own so he had us take turns. How did he even know that we wouldn’t be able to do that alone, that we would have to take turns? And how did Ron know how to raise that shield? He’s never been to Valinor. He was never taught by the Valar. So why didn’t Mir have him help us?”

“Vardamir is the oldest of us,” Finrod explained. “He remembers Cuiviénen and was my atar’s battle surgeon during the War of Wrath. He has been trained to gauge the capabilities of the people around him, to know where they can best serve. As for Vorondur, while it is true that he was born here and not in Valinor, he is a full-blooded Noldo and was taught the skills that all of us were taught as we were growing up. Unfortunately, by the time of the War of Wrath, so many of the Noldor had died and no more children were born because of the war, that the knowledge of these common skills was lost and as our Sindarin brethren were not as strong in the powers of the mind as we, such skills were not taught to them. I know that the Mortals who lived among us were in awe of our powers, powers we took for granted and did not think about as anything special. At any rate, you did not assist in the shield because there was no time to teach it to you. Vardamir knew you were capable of keeping Glorfindel under during the surgery and so he assigned you that task.”

“It still feels as if we’re being treated like… like clueless Mortals,” Elladan said with a sneer and stalked away, no longer interested in talking.

He did not get far, for suddenly an alarm went off and there was a scramble at the nurses’ station as someone yelled out “Code Blue! Room seven.”

Without even thinking about it, Elladan began running for the designated room along with Elrohir and Eärnur. Someone ran past with the crash cart. Finrod pulled Serindë out of the way. “Come, child,” he said softly. “Let us go see Glorfindel. He should not be left alone.”

Serindë did not protest as she allowed the Elf prince to lead her to Glorfindel’s room. The police officer did not try to stop them, but actually opened the door for them. Finrod thanked him softly and the Man nodded. Once inside, Finrod released Serindë and stood over Glorfindel’s bed, running his hands a few inches above the ellon’s supine body, his eyes slightly closed. Serindë stood to one side watching. Finally, Finrod opened his eyes wide and leaned down to kiss his gwador softly on the forehead, brushing a hand through his hair. He glanced over to Serindë as he straightened.

“Do you feel as Elladan and Elrohir do?” he asked softly.

“A little,” Serindë admitted. “The only ones who even talk to me are the Three Amigos and Nell. Even they don’t hesitate to remind me that I’m so much younger than they, that they know how to do things I was never taught. It’s embarrassing sometimes.”

“I do wish people would stop referring to Finda and his gwedyr as the Three Amigos,” Finrod said, giving her a smile to show that he was not chastising her.

Serindë grinned back. “Blame it on Alex and Derek. I don’t think Finda or the others mind. I think they take it as a…a term of endearment.”

“I am sorry that you feel as if we disapprove of you in any way,” Finrod said, sighing. “I have nothing but admiration for you all, for you have endured much and at great cost.” He gave her a gentle look. “I have met your brothers, you know.”

Serindë gasped. “Dar and Cani?”

“Is that what you called them?” Finrod asked with amusement.

She nodded. “I never knew Dar. He died before I was born. My parents talked about him all the time, though, and I guess ‘Dar’ was the name he used among the natives with whom he lived. ‘Cani’ was what I called Findecáno when he was a baby and I guess it stuck.” She gave him a shy look. “They are well?”

“Yes, child, they are well.” Finrod went to her and gave her a hug. “They were anxious to come, but I would not allow it, nor any of the relatives of those who were still here.”

“Why not?”

“Because I felt it would be distracting. We need to focus on our mission.”

“What exactly is your mission? Listening to the others, I get the feeling that they’re not here to help but to take over.”

“And you do not approve.” It was a statement rather than a question.

“But you keep telling us you’re not here to take over Elf Academy.”

“That is true. I am not. None of us are. That is the purview of Glorfindel and you who follow him. Ultimately, however, we need to expand our field of operations to include all of Wiseman and that is where we of Valinor come in. We will handle that part of it while you continue with Elf Academy.”

Serindë raised an eyebrow. “I see. So what you’re saying is that you Valinórean Elves will be doing all the important work while we of Wiseman are relegated to… to sweeping the floors so to speak with little thanks from any of you.”

“Child, you are taking this all the wrong way,” Finrod said mildly. “All aspects of this operation are important. No one part is more important than another. We need to pull together to make it work. What you and Glorfindel and the others of Wiseman do at Elf Academy is vitally important. Indeed, without it there is no point in any of us being here.”

The door opened just then and Eärnur entered along with the Twins. “The patient is fine,” Eärnur said and Finrod nodded. “Elladan and Elrohir did well.”

“Oh, thank you,” Elrohir said with a sneer. “Coming from you, Ernie, that’s high praise indeed.”

Finrod frowned, giving Eärnur a concerned look. The Teler just shrugged. “They take everything I say the wrong way. I only meant that I was impressed by how they handled the situation, in spite of their lack of, shall we say, special training.”

“What do you mean by that?” Elladan demanded. “What special training? We’re quite acquainted with all the Mortal medical techniques, more so than you, thank you very much.”

“Mortal techniques, yes, but not all the Elven techniques that are at our disposal,” Eärnur said. “I would be happy to teach them to you, as I’m sure the other healers would be. Once you’ve learned what we can teach you, then you will be master healers indeed.”

“But we are not master healers yet, are we?” Elrohir said. “Odd. I distinctly recall being told by Ada that we were, that we were second only to him in skill. Everyone in Imladris and beyond acknowledged that.”

“Elrond taught you all that he had been taught or discovered on his own,” Finrod said, “but even he admitted that there were aspects of the Elven healing arts that he only suspected but never really knew until he came to Valinor. Please do not take what we say in the wrong way, any of you.” He included Serindë with his gaze as he spoke to the Twins. “I am sorry you feel that we look down on you because you did not Sail or because you were born here. I assure you that is not the case. That being said, you need to acknowledge the fact that you do not have the skills which we of Valinor take for granted, but if you are willing we will teach them to you.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. Serindë went to Elrohir who wrapped an arm around her, giving her a kiss. Finally, Elladan shrugged. “Roy and I will keep watch over Loren,” he said. “You two can go back home.”

“I’d like to stay, too,” Serindë said quietly, looking at Elrohir, who nodded.

Eärnur looked as if he might protest, but Finrod simply nodded. “If that is your wish. Come along, Eärnur. We will leave the children to watch over Glorfindel. You will call us if there is any change in his condition.” He directed the last to Elladan as the oldest of the trio.

“That goes without saying,” Elladan replied.

Finrod leaned down to kiss Glorfindel on the brow a second time, brushing his hand through the ellon’s hair. “I will return later, hanno,” he whispered in Quenya, then straightened and nodded to Eärnur who followed him out of the room, leaving the Twins and Serindë alone with the sleeping Glorfindel.

****

Peredhil: (Sindarin) Plural of Peredhel: Half-elven.