46: Resolutions

Vardamir, Eärnur and Manwen were discussing something between them that had happened at the hospital while they were removing their coats and hanging them on one of the two coat trees set up by the front door when Laurendil came down the stairs. Manwen spied her husband.

“You’re back!” she said unnecessarily as she went to kiss him.

“Got back a few hours ago,” Laurendil said, returning her kiss with one of his own.

“Were you successful in finding the Twins and Serindë?” Vardamir asked.

“Yes, we were.”

They all turned to see Glorfindel and Daeron coming down the hall. It was Glorfindel who had spoken. Vardamir and Eärnur stiffened and Eärnur’s expression was one of dismay. Before anyone could speak, he burst into tears, which brought Glorfindel and Daeron up short. They exchanged bemused looks, while Vardamir tried to comfort his fellow healer. Glorfindel sighed and then reached out to take Eärnur by the shoulders.

“Ernie, stop that. You’re embarrassing Manuela.”

“It’s Ernest,” Eärnur said, still weeping. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“Well, I’m going to call you Ernie as long as you’re weeping. You want me to call you Ernest, you have to dry those tears,” Glorfindel retorted. “I think we should take this elsewhere. There are things that need to be said between us. If you two will excuse us,” he looked up at Laurendil and Manwen.

“We can take a hint,” Laurendil said with a smile, his arms around Manwen, who looked quite content to remain within them. “Besides, I haven’t seen my wife in four whole days. I can think of better things to do than stand around listening to everyone apologizing to everyone else.”

“I’m sure you can,” Glorfindel shot back with a grin, then turned to the others. “Come on, let’s go to the library. Darren, you want to make some tea for Ernest? I think he could use some.”

“I’ll be back shortly then,” Daeron said and retreated down the hall to the kitchen while Glorfindel steered Eärnur and Vardamir toward the library. Laurendil and Manwen disappeared up the stairs, arm in arm, with Laurendil describing the journey to Fairbanks as they went.

Inside the library, Glorfindel went to the fireplace and busied himself with building up the fire that was never allowed to go out during the winter months, while the other two stood indecisively, watching him warily. Satisfied with the fire, Glorfindel stood up, replacing the poker, giving the other two a wry look when he took in their expressions.

“You two look as if you’re waiting for your own executions. Relax, will you? I’m not angry with either one of you.”

“We almost killed you,” Vardamir said in a strained voice.

“Well, almost doesn’t count,” Glorfindel shot back. “Look, you made a mistake. Yes, it nearly cost me my life, but if I hadn’t been so arrogant and just plain stupid, none of this would have happened in the first place. So, lesson learned, or I sincerely hope so.”

Daeron came in just then bearing a tray with a teapot and cups and a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies. “Have I missed anything?” he asked as he put the tray down on the table between the two chairs facing the fireplace.

Glorfindel rolled his eyes. “No, Darren, you haven’t missed a thing. Should we reenact the last five minutes for you just to be sure? I think I was playing with the fire.”

Vardamir snorted in amusement and even Eärnur snickered as Glorfindel gave them a wink and the atmosphere in the room became more relaxed.

“So how was your first day back at the hospital?” Glorfindel asked.

“Rough,” Vardamir replied with a grimace. “Kyle gave us all a dressing down worthy of the Noldóran.”

“Ouch!” Glorfindel said sympathetically, well remembering the few — very few, thankfully — times he had been chewed out by Arafinwë for some infraction or other. And what had made it so terrible was that the king never raised his voice.

“It was very embarrassing, being reprimanded by a Mortal,” Eärnur said, accepting a cup of the chamomile tea from Daeron and choosing a cookie to go with it.

“Kyle Stoner has his own brand of arrogance,” Daeron commented, “but he’s not a fool and he’s considered one of the best trauma doctors in the state, if not the country.”

“At any rate, we’re all under probation for the time being, which is rather galling,” Vardamir said, declining the tea but accepting a cookie.

“What about the Twins?” Eärnur asked.

“What about them?” Glorfindel countered. “They’re back, though at the moment I understand that they and Finrod and some others have gone to the movies, so you’ll have to wait until later to speak with them. They were very hurt by your dismissal, which is what drove them away. You may disparage their heritage, which, frankly, is far more exalted than any of ours in my opinion, and you can dismiss them because they are younger than you, but don’t ever forget that they’ve lived among Mortals for a very long time and they are both doctors in their own right. If anything, they have seniority over all of you in that regard. From what I’ve been told, they made the correct diagnosis and were doing what should have been done to relieve my distress. Your taking over the way you did was not only arrogant but foolish.” He paused for a moment and shook his head, noting the way the two healers had stiffened under the lash of his tongue. “Well, end of lecture. I’m sure we’ve all learned something from this little fiasco and we need to move on.”

“I’m sorry, we’re sorry,” Eärnur said softly. Vardamir nodded.

“I know,” Glorfindel responded, “but it’s not to me you have to say that, but to Dan and Roy.”

Both ellyn nodded, looking resigned. Before anyone could say anything else, though, they all heard the front door opening and several voices talking. Vardamir grimaced. “They’re back, then. I was hoping they would just stay away.”

“Oh?” Glorfindel said as he went to the door and opened it. “Hey, you lot, in here, now,” he called out and then turned back to face the others. “Is there something I should know?”

“Nothing really,” Eärnur said, stealing a glance at Vardamir. “They all disappeared Friday night and no one knew where they had gone.”

“Amroth knew,” Daeron pointed out. “Della called him to let him know.”

“Well, he didn’t tell any of us,” Vardamir insisted.

“According to Amroth, none of you were on speaking terms with him or any of the other Wiseman Elves,” Glorfindel pointed out in a reasonable tone.

Before either Vardamir or Eärnur could comment, several people came into the library, most of them looking sheepish. Glorfindel gave them all an imperious look while Daeron smiled faintly in amusement. When they spied Glorfindel they all seemed to breathe sighs of relief and one or two even smiled. Bringing up the rear was Fionwë still in his Finn disguise, though he had added a duster to his ensemble out of deference to the weather.

“Where did you find them?” Glorfindel asked.

“At the library listening to a harp concerto,” the Maia answered. “Very nicely played. They wanted to stay and speak to the harpists but I convinced them it would be wiser and… um… healthier if they all came back home.”

“Ron threw you lot out of his house some hours ago,” Glorfindel said. “When were you planning to come home or were you going to drift from one location to the next for all of time?”

“We always planned to come home, Loren,” Barahir said, apparently acting as spokesman, “but the concert was one we had all planned to go to anyway, so when we left Ron’s place we had just enough time to grab a bite at the café before the concert. You didn’t have to send him to fetch us.” He jerked a thumb somewhat contemptuously at Fionwë who stood there looking not in the least insulted.

“Yes, well, I won’t apologize for that,” Glorfindel said. “I understand you’ve all been behaving rather badly while we were away, refusing to speak to one another, leaving Amroth alone to hold down the fort, importuning Holly and Della the way you did.”

“Well, at least the babies now have lovely quilts waiting for them when they’re born and Sarah’s bridal linens are all nicely embroidered,” Eirien said with a sniff, “so whatever else, we made good use of our time.”

“Nor did we neglect our own duties,” Cennanion pointed out. “We may have been hiding out at Ron’s but we still continued looking after Elf Academy. Oh, by the way, Marion called and said that they’re already receiving applications for next year, and almost twice the number we got this same time last year. Zach will be bringing them to the meeting on Saturday as Marion won’t be here. She has a wedding in Anchorage.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Fine, but we really need to deal with what has been going on here of late. Things should not have fallen apart the way they did when I got hurt.”

“You almost died,” Gilvegil protested, “and I don’t necessarily mean because of the attack.” He cast a glare at Vardamir and Eärnur.

“We’ve already apologized to Glorfindel for what we did,” Vardamir said softly.

“If you hadn’t been so arrogant—” Misty started to say, but Glorfindel cut her off with an impatient gesture.

“Enough!” he practically screamed, causing more than one person to jump in surprise. “Recriminations are useless and get us nowhere. What happened, happened. Get over it. And all this finger-pointing is unbecoming of any of you. Honestly, you act like a bunch of Mortals at their worst.” He gave them all a disgusted look and turned away to face the fireplace, obviously trying to get himself under control.

“Remember, my children,” Daeron said in a gently scolding manner, “when you point a finger at others you have three more pointing back at you. I agree with Loren that it was very bad of you to leave Amroth to deal with matters on his own. He did quite admirably, all things considered, and if he found it all very amusing and did not take umbrage, then that speaks highly of him, but does you no credit in return.”

They all stared at him and even Glorfindel turned around to give him an appraising look. “You been taking lessons from Ron lately?” he asked with a smile and Daeron just shrugged, not bothering to answer what was clearly a rhetorical question.

“What about you, Loren?” Barahir asked. “How are you doing? And what about Dan and Roy? Did you find them and Sarah?”

“I’m doing fine, thank you for asking,” Glorfindel said, “and yes, we found them and brought them home. We have some rather interesting news but we’ll wait until everyone’s back before we share it. Some people are at the movies and others apparently have been hanging about in the woods, as I can sense a number of them returning from that direction.”

Just then, Melyanna and Helyanwë entered. Melyanna, when she saw Daeron, went directly to him, her expression one of delight. He gathered her in his embrace. “Did you miss me?” he whispered in a teasing voice, though most of them heard him.

“Always,” she answered and the two shared a smile.

Helyanwë remained by the door, looking uncertain. Glorfindel went to her, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, bringing her further into the room. “Did you finish the soup?”

“Yes, and I also ate your toast,” she replied with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

“That’s all right,” Glorfindel said with an indulgent smile. “I’m fine with chocolate chip cookies. Ah… I believe the movie-goers are also back. Would you be a dear and go fetch them for me? Gil, go tell the ones coming into the kitchen to come here, will you? I think we need to get all of this settled tonight.”

Gilvegil nodded and he let Helyanwë precede him out the door, the two going in opposite directions. A few minutes later, both groups met at the library door and there was a brief moment of hesitation before Finrod ended up being the first to enter. He automatically went to stand with Glorfindel and Daeron, ignoring everyone else.

“Did you have a good nap, Brother?” he asked solicitously.

“Yes, I did,” Glorfindel replied. “As you can see, I’m feeling well enough to give everyone else grief.”

“Good.” Finrod said. “So, where do we stand?”

“Well, Mir and Ernest and I have made up, Dan and Roy still need to speak to them. Helena and I have talked and I think we’re back on track, and I was just reprimanding my crew for deserting Amroth as they did. You want to speak to your lot or should I?”

“Oh, by all means, do,” Finrod said, giving an exaggerated sigh and a slight scowl of annoyance which Glorfindel knew was just for show. “I find I tire of having to do so all the time.”

Everyone listening to the exchange reacted with varying degrees of concern or exasperation. Glorfindel spied Valandur standing to one side, his expression one of amusement. “So, I understand I may have to arm-wrestle you for my Quenya class, Val. How did the lesson go?”

Valandur laughed. “It went very well, Loren. We spent the time cursing one another.”

“Excuse me?” Glorfindel asked in surprise and even the others looked nonplused by the loremaster’s statement.

Valandur just laughed harder. “I told the class that I would not teach them a single word of Quenya until they shared with me their swearwords and curses.”

“But why?” Beleg asked, clearly confused.

“Because they are an important aspect of any culture,” Valandur replied. “Anyway, the Mortals were rather taken aback and seemed very uncomfortable.”

“I would certainly think so,” Daeron said with a grin.

Valandur’s smile grew wider. “Finally one of the men spoke up, saying, and I quote, ‘But there are ladies present, sir’, at which point, one of the ladies in question said a word under her breath that had all the other ladies laughing and all the men looking as if they were wishing the ground would open up beneath them.” He paused to chuckle. “The ladies all became embarrassed, though, when I asked them to define the term.”

“What was the word?” Daeron asked.

“Oh, it had something to do with reproduction,” Valandur said somewhat airily and Glorfindel saw Elrohir mouthing the word to Elladan and the two of them grinning. The other Wiseman Elves also gave each other knowing grins. “At any rate,” Valandur continued, “after much hemming and hawing, they finally got around to explaining what the word referred to and how it was generally used and under what social contexts and then I very calmly gave them the Quenya equivalent. After that, things got rolling. Of course, some of their phrases have no Quenya equivalent and vice versa and we spent some time exploring the reasons why that might be so, beyond the fact that Mortals are more… crude in the way they curse each other. I gave them examples of the more refined manner in which we do the same. It was fun and very informative, especially the way they can insert such words into the middle of a word for emphasis, something we cannot do in Quenya. I may have to write a paper on it.”

“English expletive infixation is the technical term for that,” Daeron said with a laugh. “I can point you to the relevant research, if you’re interested.”

Valandur nodded and Glorfindel rolled his eyes. “Yes, well, Amroth suggested you take over the class completely and I have no objections. It will certainly free up my time more, but why on earth you spent an entire class teaching them swearwords is beyond me.”

“I was not only teaching them but they were teaching me,” Valandur pointed out. “It’s a two-way street, as I believe the saying goes. And it’s not enough to teach anyone a language without also teaching them the sociological reason for that language. The two go together. Language out of context makes little sense. So, for instance, by sharing how our two cultures use expletives and why, they get a clearer sense of how Quenya works and in what way it differs from English and what way it does not.”

“Well, getting back to the reason for this meeting,” Glorfindel said, turning his attention to the others, speaking in a low voice, “I am very disappointed in you all. Finrod told me what happened while I was in the hospital and Amroth brought me up to date on how things were here while we were in Fairbanks and frankly, I’m appalled. I just hope that our enemies did not see how you were acting with one another and are t making plans to exploit this division. I thought we had settled things, but apparently not.”

He paused for a moment and then his expression hardened and his eyes blazed with what Finrod would call the Wrath-of-Mandos look. The Twins apparently recognized it, because they both started backing up, though they didn’t get far before Glorfindel froze them with a look and when he spoke his tone was colder than the snow that was now falling outside. “Let me make this very clear to all of you. Your actions of late play into the hands of the Enemy. Most of you know better. Some of us even died because we allowed ourselves to play into the Enemy’s hands the first time. We cannot afford to make that same mistake twice. We are too few here and there are no guarantees that we will have reinforcements from Valinor or elsewhere when the time comes. We need to work together and not be so divisive. I made a mistake and I apologize for it and for what it did to all of you, but people, I am expendable. Finrod is expendable. In the end, we’re all expendable. If I or Finrod or both of us fall in the coming War you need to remain together, choosing other leaders whom you can trust and that means everyone needs to trust everyone else because we do not know who will fall, if any of us do.”

“And we must make sure that our Mortal friends see us united as well,” Finrod interjected, “for they will rely on us to lead. Betrayal from within and without was our downfall in the past. We cannot afford to let history repeat itself. Too much is at stake here. Let us, therefore, resolve to put aside our differences and for the Valar’s sake, if you have a complaint, come to me or Glorfindel, preferably to both of us. Do not allow it to fester within you. That, too, plays into the hands of the Enemy.”

“Are we clear on this, people?” Glorfindel demanded. Most nodded their heads and some made vocal affirmations. “Good. End of lecture. You’re dismissed. Roy, Dan, you stay, and you two.” He pointed to Vardamir and Eärnur.

The four ellyn remained where they were while everyone else, with the exception of Finrod, Daeron and Fionwë, who had remained unobtrusively in the background during the previous discussion, shuffled out of the library. Glorfindel spoke quietly to Helyanwë as she started to leave, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead before letting her go and she and Melyanna were the last ones out, closing the door behind them. Glorfindel turned his attention to the four ellyn standing staring at each other across a gulf that was more than the physical space separating them. “Okay, I think we need to get some stuff straightened between you four,” Glorfindel said. “Who wants to start?”

For several uncomfortable minutes, no one moved or spoke, the four ellyn staring at one another while Glorfindel, Daeron, Finrod and Fionwë looked on. Finally, Vardamir said, “I was wrong and you were right. I am sorry.”

“As am I,” Eärnur said softly.

“Apology accepted,” Elladan said, speaking for himself and Elrohir as always. “And we’re sorry we ran off the way we did. It was childish and solved nothing.”

“Although, something good came out of it anyway,” Elrohir said.

“Oh?” Vardamir said. “What do you mean?”

“What he means is that we have some interesting news to share with everyone but not just yet,” Glorfindel interjected, stepping between them. “Right now, let’s just concentrate on the moment. I don’t expect you to become bosom pals all of a sudden, but do try to be civil with one another.”

Elladan gave him an exasperated look that was mirrored on the faces of the other three ellyn. “Honestly, Loren, we’re not children. Give us some credit.”

“I’ll give credit where it’s due when I see it,” Glorfindel retorted. “Now, off you go. Shoo. The adults need some quiet time to themselves.”

“Well, that leaves you out, my brother,” Finrod said with a mischievous grin. Glorfindel awarded him with a scowl while everyone else sniggered with amusement.

“Come on,” Vardamir said, gesturing to the Twins as he took Eärnur’s arm, “let’s go up to the sunroom and we’ll tell you about the crazy thing that happened at the hospital that had Kyle screaming like an orc and had everyone else laughing their heads off.”

“Oh yes,” Eärnur said with a chuckle as the four left. “I haven’t laughed so hard in ages.” They closed the door behind them, leaving Glorfindel, Finrod, Daeron and Fionwë alone.

Glorfindel sighed, rubbing his abdomen gently with one hand as he ran his other hand through his hair. “Well, one crisis down and how many more to go?”

“Hopefully not too many more,” Finrod muttered. “Are you in pain, gwador? Should I find Laurendil or one of the other healers?”

“No need, Finrod,” Fionwë said, stepping forward. “I can help there.”

“You still here?” Glorfindel growled.

“I’ve been making a full report to my lord on all that has been said and done tonight,” the Maia replied as he gently moved Glorfindel’s hand away from his stomach and replaced it with his own. Almost instantly, what pain Glorfindel was experiencing dissipated and his expression cleared. He sighed with obvious relief.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully as Fionwë stepped away, giving him a slight bow in acknowledgement.

“Reporting us to your masters as if we were naughty children?” Daeron asked. “Do they fear we are incapable of cleaning our own house?”

“Not at all,” Fionwë replied. “If they did not have such faith in you, do you think one of Them would not have made an appearance tonight? However, my Lord Manwë is, how do you say, head of operations? Yes, that sounds right, so he is naturally concerned when things go not at all as planned.”

“Meaning me getting beaten up and nearly dying,” Glorfindel said and the Maia nodded.

“I’m surprised none of you stopped it,” Daeron said.

“The Maiar are not responsible for our own stupidities, Darren,” Glorfindel said before Fionwë could answer. “They protect us up to a point and I suspect that while you could not stop the attack you were able to… um… convince my attackers not to kill me.”

“Yes,” Fionwë replied, but he refused to elaborate and the Elves did not press. “Well, it has been an interesting evening. I hope we do not experience anything similar in the future.”

“From your lips to the Valar’s ears, my friend,” Glorfindel retorted.

“Indeed,” Fionwë responded, giving them a faint smile as he faded away.

For a moment the three Elves just stared at the space where the Maia had been and then almost as one sighed, giving each other sheepish grins. “More tea?” Daeron suggested and when Finrod and Glorfindel nodded Daeron picked up the tea tray. “I’ll be back shortly.” Finrod opened the door for him and then closed it, giving Glorfindel a discerning look.

“How are you holding up?” he asked solicitously.

“Well enough,” Glorfindel replied as he went to the fireplace and poked the logs around a bit and threw a fresh log on the fire. “I should be tired after all this, but I’m not. You feel up to a game of chess?”

“That will leave Daeron out,” Finrod said.

“No. If I know him, he’ll be content with sitting quietly with a book or maybe even playing his harp.” He nodded toward a corner of the room where one of Daeron’s harps stood.

“Then, let us play.”

Thus, when Daeron returned several minutes later with a fresh pot of tea, it was to find the two Elf-lords sitting across from each other at the reading table staring at a chessboard, barely acknowledging him with thanks when he handed them each a cup and placed a plate of chocolate chip cookies next to them. He gave them an indulgent smile and settled down before the fire with his own cup, gazing contentedly at the flames, enjoying the quiet.