38: Meeting the Locals

“The SCA frowns on what they would consider made-up names,” Gwyn said as everyone began commenting to one another about Elrohir’s statement. “You have to prove that the name could plausibly exist.”

“That’s not a problem,” Elladan responded. “Roy and I have adopted plenty of personae over the centuries. Let’s see, you were Damiano and I was Daniele Orlandi da Rimini back around the fourteenth century when we were all spies for the pope. I suppose we can use those names.”

Elrohir nodded.

“Spies?” Gwyn asked and he and everyone else goggled at them in disbelief.

“Hmm… yes, we were members of the White Guelphs,” Elladan explained. “Loren and Darren were the real spies. Roy and I were window-dressing.”

“Darren?” Gareth asked.

“Ah, you might know him better as Daeron of Doriath,” Elladan replied.

Gwyn and Gareth both paled at that and Elladan gave them a brittle smile that never reached his eyes. Elrohir sighed, wondering what the brothers’ reaction would be when they found out that Beleg was here, never mind Finrod.

“Ah, so, what about you, Sarah? Were you a spy, too?” Melisande asked hesitantly.

Serindë laughed. “Oh, heaven’s no! Let’s see, fourteenth century? Ada, Nana and I were living in Amsterdam at the time. I went by the name Serena d’Angelico, originally from Venice. Ada was an herbalist and ran an apothecary along with Nana. We gave out the story that we were fleeing the Black Death that was decimating Italy. That was actually true, but of course, we could not contract it, and Ada felt that Amsterdam might be safer for us anyway. He did not care for the machinations going on in Italy at the time with the Guelphs and the Ghibellines.”

There was a moment of silence as the Mortals took in this information, staring at the three Wiseman Elves in wonder. Killian turned to Gwyn and Gareth. “You’ve never told us about your lives. What were you doing in the fourteenth century?”

“Surviving,” Gwyn replied, his expression grim and his voice cold and Gareth’s expression was bleak. Several of the Mortals sitting nearby reared back as if to avoid a blow.

“Careful, Gwyn,” Elrohir said in Sindarin, keeping his own expression neutral. “You’re frightening the children.”

Gwyn blinked as if waking from a dream and gave Elrohir a nod of understanding. “Sorry,” he said to the others. “Some things are too difficult to speak of, and it hardly matters now. Today is what counts. Let’s say we settle the bill and get out of here? Where are you three staying, anyway?”

“Alpine Lodge,” Elladan answered. “Room two-oh-eight.”

Gwyn nodded in understanding. “I’ll call you tomorrow and we can arrange a time and a place to meet in the evening, if that meets with your approval.”

“I’ll have to check our social calendar but I think we can squeeze you in,” Elrohir said with a grin and everyone laughed as Gareth signaled to Taryn for the checks. Elladan and Gwyn exchanged cell phone numbers and five minutes later they were all leaving the pub. The Twins and Serindë wished everyone a good night and drove off with Elladan acting as chauffeur once again.

For a few minutes they drove in silence but finally, as they turned onto University and then crossed the Chena River, Elrohir said, “So you think that’s why we’re here, to join the SCA? I thought we were running away from home.”

From where he was sitting, he could see Elladan grinning. “I think we were meant to find Gwyn and Gareth. Nate…” He shook his head. “As Derek might say, that dude gets around.”

Elrohir and Serindë laughed and Elladan joined them. When they had calmed down a bit, Elrohir said, “So, the ap Hywel brothers were meant to come to Fairbanks, join the SCA and then create Gwaith-en-Angbor, ostensibly as an elite fighting corps within the barony, but really to train people for the Dagor Dagorath, pretty much as we’re doing in Wiseman.”

“But how practical is that really?” Serindë asked. “It’s a rather small group and if most of them are college students then the turnover has to be rather high every four years.”

“Except, I suspect that most of the people we met tonight are natives,” Elladan said as he turned onto Airport Way. “This is a select group and it stands to reason that Gwyn would choose people who are permanent residents of Fairbanks and its environs rather than college students who will leave for other parts of the state or the country after graduation.”

“Still, what good are they, I mean, for fighting in the war?” Serindë asked. “Right now they fight with foam weapons.”

“Foam weapons that have been crafted to imitate the real thing,” Elrohir pointed out. “And it’s just one step from foam weapons to live steel and while training with live steel is different, they’re already learning the things they need to know to fight with it.”

“Do you really think that when the war comes we’ll be fighting with swords, given the type of arsenal the Mortals employ in their present wars?” Serindë asked skeptically.

“Valandur seems to think so, and so does Finrod,” Elladan stated. “I’m not so sure myself, but I’m not a captain and I’m not in charge. I just do what I’m told. If we’re to fight with swords, then so be it. If we are to use other weapons, then that’s fine too. Roy and I have kept up with weapons technology and are certified for several types of firearms, even those used by the military and not accessible to civilians.”

“You know we can’t stay in Fairbanks forever,” Serindë said, speaking more to Elrohir. “We have a wedding to go to, after all, and I really doubt Glorfindel, never mind Ada, will permit it.”

“We’re not children, Sarah,” Elrohir said with a huff. “If Dan and I choose to live somewhere other than Wiseman, that’s our right.”

Serindë gave him a skeptical look but did not contradict him. Elladan pulled into the hotel parking lot and in a few minutes they were back in their room. Serindë announced that the day’s events had caught up with her and was soon readying herself for bed, while Elladan called the hospital in Wiseman to get news of Glorfindel.

“Loren’s awake,” he told the other two as he shut down his phone. “Seems he managed to come out of healing sleep on his own.”

“That’s Loren for you,” Elrohir stated with a grin. “So now we don’t have to worry about him and we can just concentrate on what we need to do here.”

“I should email my parents,” Serindë said. “I won’t tell them where we are, only that we’re fine.”

Both Twins nodded and she opened up her iPad and in a few minutes the email was sent and she settled into the bed by the window, slipping onto the Path of Dreams while Elrohir and Elladan sat up side-by-side on the other bed, talking quietly. After about an hour, Elladan decided he would sleep for a while, so Elrohir moved off the bed and sat in one of the chairs, opening up his e-reader and switching it to night-mode to read. Four hours later, he woke his brother, and they switched places. Serindë remained asleep the whole time.

****

They were having breakfast at Denny’s, which they had found on Airport Way, when Elladan’s phone rang.

“Good morning, Gwyn,” he said as he pressed the ‘send’ button. He listened for a moment before speaking again. “We’re having breakfast at the moment…. No, we don’t have any specific plans except we thought to visit the botanical gardens and maybe the Museum of the North, do a bit of shopping, you know, the usual touristy stuff…. Six o’clock for dinner?” He looked at his twin and Serindë and they nodded. “Sure, that sounds fine. Where? Your place? Okay. Hang on.” He made writing motions with his free hand and Serindë obliged by opening her purse and pulling out a small spiral pad and a pen, and handing them to Elladan, who nodded his thanks. “Go ahead,” he said as he wrote down an address and directions, rattling them back to Gwyn for confirmation. “Okay… we’ll see you then… No, we don’t have any food allergies.” He rolled his eyes and Elrohir and Serindë grinned. “And Roy will eat anything that’s not nailed down,” he continued, giving Elrohir a wink. His brother obliged him by sticking out his tongue. “Yes, thank you.” He ended the call and handed the pad and pen back to Serindë who stuck them back in her purse for safe keeping. “Gwyn’s invited a few people from the barony to have dinner with us.”

“Well, in the meantime, let’s finish up breakfast and go explore,” Elrohir suggested and that is what they did.

****

“It’s around here somewhere,” Elladan said as he drove along a street lined with houses, checking the house numbers.

“There it is, on your right,” Serindë said, pointing.

Elladan pulled up in front of a modest ranch house, parking on the street behind another car. The three got out and even before they reached the door, it opened to reveal Gareth, who greeted them warmly.

“Just in time,” he said, as he showed them where to hang their coats. “Gwyn’s just putting out the appetizers. Come and meet everyone. What do you want to drink? We have wine, beer, soda, coffee, tea, almond milk or water.”

“No hot chocolate?” Elrohir asked with a grin.

“I think we have some packets of it somewhere,” Gareth said, sounding a bit dubious, as they entered the living room where a number of people were gathered. They recognized Dietrich and Melisande, but the other three were strangers.

“Hah! While we’re here I’ll treat you to my favorite hot chocolate recipe,” Elrohir said, “but in the meantime, I’ll settle for coffee, milk, no sugar.”

“Me, too, and the same,” Serindë said.

“Make that three, but I like mine black,” Elladan chimed in.

Gareth nodded. “You know Pam and Henry,” he said, indicating Melisande and Dietrich. They all shook hands. “This is Stacey, Jason and Matt,” Gareth introduced the three strangers. “I’ll let you introduce yourselves while I get your drinks.” He sauntered off to the kitchen.

Elladan put out his hand. “I’m Dan, and this is Roy and Sarah.”

“But those aren’t your real names, are they?” Stacey asked, staring at them in wonder. She was a vivacious redhead with sparkling green eyes and looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Jason and Matt appeared to be slightly younger. Jason was the taller of the two. His black hair was shoulder length and he sported a beard. His eyes were gray. Matt’s chestnut brown hair was also long but he had a mustache and baby blue eyes.

“Those are the names we use today,” Elladan replied.

“So you all know that Gwyn and Gareth are Elves,” Elrohir interjected before anyone else could comment.

“The whole barony knows,” Jason said with a snort. “Or rather, certain of us know for sure and the others, especially newbies, only guess.”

“Is that not dangerous though?” Elladan asked. “For them, I mean.”

All the Mortals shrugged. “We’ve managed to keep it in-house, so to speak,” Henry said. “Anyone who is brought into Gwaith-en-Angbor is told and sworn to secrecy. Baronial officers are told and sworn to secrecy.”

“Secrets have a way of getting out,” Serindë commented.

“Perhaps, but even though you may think we’re play-acting being knights and ladies and chivalrous and all, we take it seriously,” Pam explained. “Many of us joined the SCA because we wanted to reclaim some of that sense of nobility that that era evokes, even though we know that it wasn’t really like that. Still, I prefer the fantasy.”

Just then Gareth came back carrying a tray with mugs of coffee and creamer, setting it on a table. “I’ll let you help yourselves. Gwyn will be out in a moment.”

Even as he spoke the elder ap Hywel brother came in bearing a tray with a plate of cut vegetables and a couple bowls of dips. “Hi. Glad you could make it. You’ve met everyone?”

“Yes,” Elladan said, ever the spokesman for the Twins.

“Good. I hope you like blackened salmon,” Gwyn said. “It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“It smells delicious,” Serindë said.

“We’ll eat buffet style, if no one minds,” Gwyn said apologetically. “The dining room table only seats four.”

No one had any objections and for a few minutes they busied themselves with the appetizers and the Mortals told them something about their lives.

“I teach middle school science and math,” Stacey told them.

Jason turned out to work as a copywriter for a local ad agency, while Matt was also a teacher. “Presently teaching fourth grade, but I might be teaching sixth next year,” he said.

Henry was a grad student at the university working toward his doctorate in geophysics. Pam was a mother of two and worked as a paralegal in her husband’s law firm. “That’s how John and I met,” she told them.

“Is he in the SCA, too?” Serindë asked.

“Oh yes. In fact, you met him last night. He was one of the fighters, Sir Jehan Fitzgerald of Shrewsbury. We could have gotten a babysitter so he could come for dinner, and he really wanted to meet you again, but he’s working on a brief, so he said he would watch the kids.”

By then the salmon was ready and it wasn’t long before everyone had a plate piled high with food. “My own recipe,” Gwyn told them as they settled in the living room to eat. “I like experimenting with different spices.”

“So you’re the cook in the family?” Elrohir asked.

“Oh, Gareth can’t boil water to save his life,” Gwyn replied dismissively. “I learned to cook out of self-preservation.”

Gareth grinned. “I can hunt or fish for them, but I can’t cook them. I was never so happy the day we bought our first microwave.”

Everyone laughed.

After a while, Elrohir broached the reason for their being there. “So, tell us.”

Gwyn cast an amused look his way. “Business before dessert? You have to be kidding.”

Elrohir gave him an unblinking stare and there was a gravity to him that seemed to affect the two younger Elves as well as the Mortals, for they all blanched. Gwyn stared down at his plate, clearly trying to get himself under control, finally nodding, looking back up. “Fine. As you may have guessed, Stacey is our baroness.”

“Baroness Anastasia of Winter’s Gate,” Stacey said, dipping her head in a bow.

Gwyn continued with the introductions. “Jason is Michael of Norwich, our Seneschal, while Matt is Godfroi d’Edessa, our Estoille Pursuivant Herald and Chronicler of our baronial newsletter. Melisandë is our Chatelaine, she is the barony’s contact and welcome person, and Dietrich is Rapier Marshal. Some of the other officers would’ve been here but it was a bit short notice and they couldn’t make it so you’ll meet them later, assuming you’re serious about joining us.”

“That is still debatable,” Elladan said. “We have obligations in Wiseman and we may not be able to stay in Fairbanks for very long. Loren won’t allow it and Quinn will pull rank.”

“Er… Loren?” Stacey asked.

“And who’s Quinn?” Henry enquired almost at the same time.

“You would not know them,” Elladan said, “though Gwyn and Gareth have no doubt heard of them. Loren is Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin and Quinn is Finrod Felagund, once king of Nargothrond that now lies under the sea.”

“Finrod!” Gareth exclaimed in shock, jumping up and almost spilling his plate in the process. “F-f-finrod is here? But he died!” Gwyn put his own plate down and went to stand by his brother, wrapping his arms around him.

“Take a deep breath,” he said quietly, for the younger Elf was practically hyperventilating. “Stay calm… that’s it. Shh… it’s all right.” He turned to the Twins and Serindë, giving them a rueful look. “Boyhood hero. When he was an elfling he demanded I tell him tales of the great Finrod all the time. Never mind that I’d never met him and I knew of him only through the tales our parents told us, but I got real good at spinning adventures for Finrod out of whole cloth just to keep Gareth amused.”

Elrohir stood and, gesturing to Gwyn to step back, took Gareth by the shoulders, giving the younger Elf a sympathetic look. “Finrod was our hero, too. We used to badger Glorfindel for tales about him, and he would oblige us, usually telling us stories where he and Finrod saved the day. It was a long time before we realized that most of the tales were made up or were expurgated versions of things that really happened, though not necessarily to either Finrod or Glorfindel.”

“But he’s here?” Gareth whispered. “How can he be here?”

“Yes, he’s here. He is a Reborn, as is Glorfindel.”

“Reborn?” more than one person, including Gareth, asked.

Elrohir nodded. “Elves can die and when they do their spirits or souls, whatever you want to call it, go to Mandos, the realm of the Vala Lord Námo… otherwise known as Nate.” He grinned wryly as several people gasped. “Anyway, unlike Mortals, who leave the Circles of Arda and go to the Timeless Halls, the lives of Elves are bound to the life of Arda, so eventually Elves who die are re-embodied after some indeterminate time, and pick up their lives again. Such Elves are known as Reborn.”

“So this Finrod died and now he’s alive again?” Matt asked.

“And he’s returned from Valinor along with several others,” Elrohir said, nodding. “They’ve been here a couple of months now.”

“Do you think we might meet him?” Gareth asked, giving them a hopeful look.

“Oh, probably, if you come to Wiseman for a visit,” Elrohir said with a smile. “I should warn you that he’s not as impressive as you may think. Dude works in a bookstore.”

Both Gwyn and Gareth goggled at him. “Dude?!” Gwyn exclaimed. “You call the King of Nargothrond dude?”

Both Twins laughed and Serindë smirked.

“Does he really work in a bookstore?” Gareth demanded, looking skeptical and appalled at the same time.

Elrohir shrugged. “Sure. Why not? He has to earn a living just like the rest of us.”’

“So what do you do?” Jason asked.

Elrohir returned to his seat. “Dan and I are both general practitioners.”

“You’re doctors?!” Henry exclaimed.

“Among other things,” Elladan answered with a smile.

“And this Loren or Glorfiddle or whatever he’s called?” Matt asked.

The Elves all laughed. “His name is Glorfindel,” Elladan corrected when he had calmed down, “though he does know how to play the fiddle. At the moment he’s the administrator of Elf Academy.”

“Elf Academy?” Pam asked, looking puzzled.

“Oh, yes!” Stacey said, nodding with enthusiasm. “I ran across an article in the paper once about it. It’s a school where they train people to be tour guides, isn’t it?”

The Wiseman Elves nodded. “Yes, that’s right,” Serindë answered. “It was originally set up by Mortals for the tourist industry because there was a shortage of competent guides, especially during the Christmas season. The students study tourism and how to be tour guides and pretend to be Santa’s elves.”

“That was the original plan, you understand,” Elladan said.

“So how did you guys get involved?” Jason asked.

“Well, Loren, Darren, Roy and I, along with two elleth… er… elf-women, who go by the names Della and Misty, were living in California, sharing an apartment. Over the course of about a month or two, all of us lost our jobs for one reason or another. Darren suggested that we look for something we could all do together and after some searching on the internet he found Elf Academy, part of the Northern Lights Community College in Wiseman. It was in its first year of operation. We applied as students and—”

“Whoa! Students? You became students?” Gwyn exclaimed and the others looked at the Wiseman Elves in shock.

Both Elladan and Elrohir nodded and Elrohir took up the explanation. “The idea was to get our certification from the school and then go to Finland or Norway or somewhere where Santa might conceivably have his workshop and set up our own Elf Academy for the tourism industry there.”

“And do you even speak Finnish or any of the other Scandinavian languages?” Stacey asked.

“Oh, sure,” Elrohir replied somewhat breezily. “Well, Danish, actually, but after all these ages, what’s another Mortal language?”

“How many languages do you speak or have spoken?” Jason asked.

“Hmm… well, I can name about twenty just off the top of my head. I’d have to think about the rest,” Elrohir said and the Mortals just goggled at him, though neither Gwyn nor Gareth looked surprised. “So anyway, we applied and were accepted and came north to become Elf Guides. Circumstances forced us to reveal ourselves to the people of Wiseman and we ended up taking over Elf Academy. This is our second year of running it.”

“Yes, but why?” Gareth asked. “And you said you were doctors.”

Elladan nodded. “That’s true, but at the time we weren’t working as doctors. It’s only recently that we’ve started doing so again. As to why we took over Elf Academy, well, it’s for the same reason your brother created the Gwaith-en-Angbor, to prepare Mortals for the Dagor Dagorath.”

“That’s that Armageddon thing, isn’t it?” Henry asked and all five Elves nodded.

Gwyn’s expression was thoughtful. “You say you’ve been in operation for the last two years.”

The Wiseman Elves nodded and Elrohir said, “The Valar send certain people to us who come initially as tourists. We reveal ourselves to them and recruit them to the cause.”

“Yes, but what I meant is, you’ve been in operation for two years and Gareth and I have been here for the last ten. We’ve both been members of the SCA for about six or seven years and I finally advanced high enough through the baronial hierarchy to be able to form the Gwaith-en-Angbor just last year with Stacey’s permission. It seems to me we’re working at cross-purposes rather than together, and I’m wondering if my efforts have been worth it.”

“What do you mean?” Gareth protested. “Of course they have. We’ve got a great fighting group, better than any other.”

“Yes, but why?” Gwyn demanded angrily. “What’s the point? Just as I’m in a position to create an elite fighting force and begin training them seriously for battle the Valar send these Elves to Wiseman to take over Elf Academy, apparently for the same purpose. If they were planning to do that, why bother with us?”

“You think that the Valar decided your efforts weren’t working, so they changed tactics and got us to take over the Academy?” Elladan enquired.

Gwyn nodded. “And left us to play dress-up with the Mortals,” he responded somewhat bitterly. The said Mortals looked a bit hurt by his statement.

“No. I don’t believe that, or we wouldn’t be here,” Elrohir said. “I think you are an important part of their plans, plans that we know have been in the making for decades, perhaps for centuries.”

“How do you figure that?” Stacey asked.

Elrohir grinned, pointing at the two ap Hywel brothers. “Because, according to them, they took a couple of centuries to make their way here from the east coast once they reached these shores. They were drawn here and I think only when they came to Fairbanks did they feel as if they had arrived.” He gave the brothers a searching look. Gareth’s expression was thoughtful; Gwyn nodded reluctantly.

“So what does that mean for us?” Jason asked, gesturing to his fellow Mortals. “How do we fit in in all this?”

Instead of answering the Mortal, Elrohir asked Gwyn, “Membership in the Gwaith-en-Angbor is by invitation only, right?” Gwyn nodded. “So, who decides? You? Lord Námo or some other Vala? Do the other members get to vote? What’s the criteria?”

Now Gwyn looked embarrassed for some reason. Gareth gave them a wicked grin, the sort that can be found on the faces of most younger siblings when older siblings are in the hot seat. "He dreams about them,” the younger Elf said.

“Gareth,” Gwyn growled at his brother, not looking up.

“Well you do,” Gareth retorted defensively.

“True dreams sent by Lord Irmo?” Elladan suggested, turning to his twin, who shrugged, not knowing the answer.

“So I think,” Gwyn admitted, finally looking up. “They’re rather odd dreams, though. In every case, I find myself sitting behind a desk and the person whom I am thinking to have join us is on the other side and I’m conducting an interview.”

“So that’s how you know you should invite the person to join you?” Serindë enquired.

“Sort of. Actually, there are a set of questions that I ask. Always the same questions. They’re written on a sheet of paper before me. What’s really weird is that below each question are two possible answers labeled ‘A’ and ‘B’ and depending on what the person says, I mark one or the other and then I add them up. If the person gives a certain number of ‘A’ answers, he’s in, if not, he’s not suitable and I know not to ask him to join us.”

“How do you know?” Elrohir asked.

Gwyn shrugged. “I just do, and once, because I really thought that a certain person would be an asset to the group even though, according to the dream interview, he wasn’t, I did ask him to join and it was something of a disaster.” He turned to his brother. “You remember Lorenzo, don’t you?”

“Oh yeah,” Gareth said. “A halfway decent fighter but something of a loser on the social scale, and he couldn’t seem to handle the idea of there being Elves in the world. Kept saying we were devils or demons or something. Gwyn finally had to… um… alter his memories of us and a short time later he moved away.”

“No loss there,” Stacey said with a steely voice, her expression one of disgust. “That was one slimy so-and-so I was glad to see go.” The other Mortals all nodded.

“Anyway, after that, I knew enough not to tempt fate like that again,” Gwyn explained.

Silence fell among them as people contemplated what Gwyn had told them. Finally, Elladan stirred. “It seems clear that the Valar have more than one finger in the pie, but notice that everything seems to be centered around Alaska. I’m guessing it’s because it’s remote and out of the limelight, and I’ll even go out on a limb and say that Gwyn and Gareth’s operation here in Fairbanks and ours in Wiseman may not be the only ones. Every time we’ve asked, the Valar insist that there are other Elves out there, living in this world just as we are, but except for Sarah and her parents and a few others, none have come forward and I’m thinking that the Valar may be setting up more than one… um… boot camp, so to speak, in other parts of the world.”

Several eyebrows rose.

“That actually makes sense,” Elrohir said. “I’ve wondered just how what we’re doing in Wiseman could possibly prepare all the Mortals for what is to come. I wonder if there’s any way to find them?”

“I think we should just concentrate on our own missions for now,” Gwyn suggested. “Let the others fend for themselves. If we’re meant to meet with them, we will but in the Valar’s own time, not ours.”

The other Elves nodded, looking thoughtful. Then Gareth brightened. “Well, in the meantime, who wants dessert? It’s a cherry crisp with vanilla ice cream.”

Everyone raised their hands.