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Elf Academy 3: The Enemy Within  by Fiondil

71: Awakenings

Derek arrived home around noon on Thursday. He’d wanted to leave immediately as soon as he received Daeron’s call on Wednesday, but Marty convinced him to wait until the morning, stating that he should not be driving until he was calmer. Derek reluctantly agreed and in fact recognized the truth of Marty’s words. His anxiety over Alex would make him reckless and the road was treacherous enough without making it worse. As soon as he reached Wiseman he went directly to the hospital, but he was unable to see Alex and left in frustration, going over to Edhellond to see if he could get any information.

Glorfindel was there, along with Daeron, and they insisted on feeding him some lunch. “We can tell you what happened while you eat. You look like you haven’t slept,” Glorfindel said, pushing Derek into a seat at the breakfast nook while Daeron brought out some meat for a sandwich and stirred the tomato bisque warming on the stove.

“I slept fine,” Derek said, “except for the tossing and turning half the night worried for Alex. Is he going to be okay? They wouldn’t let me see him.”

“We’ll make arrangements for you to see him tomorrow,” Glorfindel assured him. “Right now, he’s holding his own. Ron called a short while ago and told us that when he brought Felicity Cohen to see him, he came to and smiled. It was only for a moment and then he lapsed back into unconsciousness, but it’s a good sign.”

“So what exactly happened?” Derek asked as he accepted a bowl of the bisque and the grilled ham and cheese sandwich from Daeron.

Glorfindel told him and for several minutes Derek just sat there, his lunch forgotten as he listened to the Elf’s tale. “Damn! I should’ve been there,” he said at the end.

“You couldn’t have done anything for or against what happened, Derek,” Glorfindel said gently, “and if you had been here, you might have been the one Farrell had kidnapped.”

“Better me than Felicity. How’s she doing? She going to be okay?”

“Ron is keeping an eye on her, but she’s a survivor. She’ll be fine, eventually. Now, I think it wiser if you stay here for the duration until Alex is released from the hospital. Amroth is due to arrive sometime around dinner time and we need to hold a conference. You’re invited to attend, if you wish.”

“Try to keep me away,” Derek said as he bit into his sandwich.

****

Amroth and those with him traveled in two cars, since Gareth was coming with them, so Zach and Manwen rode with Gareth. They reached Wiseman in time for dinner. Gareth was introduced to everyone and by mutual consent nothing was said about Alex during dinner. Instead, the conversation centered around Gareth as he and the Elves traded stories about their lives, Gareth shyly and the other Elves with great enthusiasm. Only Zach and Derek appeared restless. They were sitting together, ignoring the Elves, catching up on their own news and worrying about Alex. Finally, the dinner was over and most of the Elves retired to the library or went outside to enjoy the evening. A couple of the healers were scheduled for night duty and left as well. Barahir went with them, for it had been decided to have someone watching over Alex at all times. Cennanion was with him at the moment and Barahir would relieve him.

Glorfindel, Finrod, Daeron, Valandur, and the Twins, retired to the conference room, along with Amroth, Gareth, Zach and Derek. Finlay excused himself from the meeting, stating that he and Sakari were going to the movies. “We need some time to ourselves,” he told them and the Elves agreed and wished them a pleasant evening.

“Ron will be here shortly,” Glorfindel told Derek and Zach as they entered the conference room, “and then we can begin.”

“What exactly will we be discussing?” Derek asked.

“Several things,” Glorfindel replied. “Let’s wait until Ron gets here, though. I know you and Zach are anxious for Alex, but he’s in the best of care and is recovering. There is nothing either of you can do at the moment. I promise, we’ll get you in to see him tomorrow. Ah, here’s Ron.”

Vorondur entered the conference room. “Sorry to be late. There was some sort of accident and I had to take an alternate route.”

“No one seriously hurt, I hope,” Glorfindel said.

“I have no idea,” Vorondur said. “As soon as I saw the flashing lights, I turned off and made my way through a residential area until I picked up Sycamore where it crosses Manley. I didn’t want to get stuck waiting for traffic to clear.”

“Well, let’s get started. Ron, Derek and Zach would like to be able to see Alex. I told them we would make arrangements for them to see him tomorrow.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem as long as I or one of the other healers is there with them.”

“We’ll be going in tomorrow anyway,” Elladan said, nodding to his twin. “We can meet you both at the hospital after rounds and take you to ICU, say around eleven?”

The two Mortals nodded in agreement.

“Good. That’s settled,” Glorfindel said. “Now, to other business. How long can you stay, Gareth?”

“I’ll need to leave by Sunday,” the younger ellon replied. “Got my own job to go to and all.”

“Fair enough. We’ll arrange for you to meet with Jud von Franck and those Mortals who expressed interest in joining the SCA. There’s only been one meeting so far.”

“That’s fine. I really just want to meet everyone and begin coordinating with you as far as training goes.”

“We’ll go over all that tomorrow with you, take you over to the college and see what we’re doing there,” Glorfindel said.

“So, what exactly are we talking about here?” Zach asked. “Everything seems to be under control, isn’t it?”

“Except there are at least two agents out there and we have no idea who they are, only that they’ve been helping Farrell by kidnapping Felicity for him.”

“If they’re smart, they would already be gone,” Vorondur said. “Hanging about here would be futile and ultimately dangerous. Farrell is back in police custody. I have no doubt the Agency will do what it can to affect his release, but even if that happens, then what? We have no idea if he will ever recover. If he does, his trial might still go on, but frankly, none of us really want to see this go to trial, do we? There’s too much danger for all of us if it does.”

“Yet, should there not be justice for the two Men he murdered?” Finrod asked.

“Justice can come in many forms, though,” Daeron said. “If Farrell remains in a coma for the rest of his natural life, is that not a type of prison and a form of punishment, to be trapped in one’s body, unknowing of what is happening around him?”

“Death would be a kindness,” Glorfindel said soberly.

“It is in Eru’s hands,” Valandur said solemnly, “as are we all. Farrell is no longer our responsibility. Let us concentrate on our own mission, to prepare the Mortals for the Dagor Dagorath.” He turned to Gareth. “Beside recruiting and training through the SCA, a number of us are presently looking into buying some property or renting an area from one of the resorts to create what they are calling a zombie hunter training camp.”

“Zombie hunter is a pretty popular game these days,” Gareth said. “Can’t see the attraction myself, but I’m a bit old-fashioned that way.” He flashed them a grin and they all grinned back. “Still, I often wondered if Mortals weren’t somehow remembering orcs in some fashion, only making them into mindless zombies. Never met orcs myself, you understand, but I heard about them from my parents.”

“You might have something there,” Vorondur said. “We know that some of their fairy tales are dim recollections of earlier ages. The big difference, of course, is that orcs were anything but mindless, nor were they resurrected dead. Neither Morgoth nor Sauron had that power, for which we can be eternally grateful.”

“Amen,” Daeron said fervently. “At any rate, the zombie hunter camp gives us the opportunity to train the Mortals in modern combat techniques, while the SCA gives us more ancient weapons. Many of those whom we are recruiting are retired military, so they will be the easiest to train.”

“Still don’t see how swords and such will do us any good when there are nuclear arsenals that the Enemy might be able to obtain,” Derek pointed out.

“This war, when it comes, will be fought on many levels,” Finrod said, “including the spiritual level, according to Lady Varda. We really do not know what form this war will take, so it is best to prepare on all fronts using every weapon we can lay our hands on.”

The other Elves nodded.

“Well, I, for one, am looking forward to getting involved with the SCA,” Zach said eagerly. “I can’t wait to make my own armor and weapons.”

The Elves smiled at his enthusiasm and shortly thereafter the meeting broke up. Amroth collected Nimrodel and their luggage and they and Vorondur wished everyone a good-night and left for home. Zach went with them, leaving Derek alone with the Elves. He joined them in the library but after an hour, pleading weariness, he retired.

****

Friday, Elladan and Elrohir met Derek and Zach at the hospital at the appointed hour and took them to ICU. “One at a time,” Elladan told them, and Zach told Derek to go first. Derek went in to find Mithlas sitting in a chair reading a magazine. The Elf looked up and smiled at him.

“There’s been no change for better or worse,” he said, standing and going to the bed with Derek.

“He looks so pale,” Derek said. “Are you sure he’s going to be okay?”

“The healers are hopeful,” Mithlas said, “and so am I. Now, I will step outside to give you some privacy.”

“Zach is waiting to visit as well. I won’t be long.”

Mithlas nodded and left. For a long moment, Derek just stood there staring down at his friend. Finally, he leaned down to speak confidentially. “You are going to be the death of me yet, mate,” he said. “I counted five gray hairs this morning and I’m blaming them on you. You were warned never to go to that blasted tarn alone, but do you listen? No. Not the great Artemus Gordon Meriwether, superspy. You’re just damn lucky, that’s all I have to say. If those Maiar hadn’t shown up to rescue you… damn you! You’d better get well, mate, so I can have the supreme pleasure of wringing your neck.”

Alex never moved or showed any sign that he had heard Derek’s impassioned speech but Derek nodded and straightened. “I’ll send Zach in now,” he said and walked out, never looking back, surreptitiously wiping his eyes.

“You okay?” Zach asked.

“Yeah, sure. Go on. It’s your turn.”

Zach nodded and left. The Twins gave him sympathetic looks and Mithlas smiled. “Gave him a piece of your mind, did you?” he asked.

“You heard all that?” Derek countered, looking embarrassed.

“Not the words so much as the tone,” Mithlas answered. “I think every one of us who has been here watching over him has given him a piece of our minds, so do not think you’re the only one, but mostly we’ve told him how brave he was and assured him that all was well.”

“What about Farrell?”

“No change there,” Elrohir replied with a shrug. “We’re keeping an eye on him and doing everything we can for both him and Alex. Farrell is slime but he’s a living being and we have neither the right nor the authority to sit in judgment on him. He is getting the best of care and no one is stinting him.”

“Fair enough,” Derek said.

Just then, Zach came out and Mithlas excused himself to go back on watch. Elladan went with him to check on Alex for himself, while Elrohir checked in on Farrell. Zach invited Derek to lunch at the café.

“Sounds great, but I need to go home first,” Derek told Zach. “I’ve agreed to stay at Edhellond until Alex wakes, but I need more clothes.”

“Well, I’ll give you a hand and then we’ll go have lunch.” Zach offered.

Derek agreed to the plan and they left.

****

Gareth strolled through Elf Academy with Glorfindel and Daeron, admiring the classrooms and dormitories.

“Nice set up you have here,” he commented.

“We may need to expand,” Daeron said. “Our applications have nearly doubled since last year but we only have space for about four hundred.”

“A good sign though, isn’t it?” the younger Elf said. “But how many end up learning the truth? Surely not all of them?”

“No,” Glorfindel answered. “Usually about two-thirds of the class are told the truth and only at the very end. They’re all given a choice though, to stay or to go. Some choose to go because they have other obligations but they still want to be a part of it all, so we recently began an e-newsletter for them to keep them apprised of what is happening. We are arranging a reunion in the summer for them where they can begin to receive training.”

“What about the clients to whom you reveal yourselves? Do they all move here?”

“Most do. Some are not able at this time but we keep in contact with them with the newsletter.”

They made their way to Glorfindel’s office to sit. “At the moment, of course, we’re not in operation,” Glorfindel said, “though the building does not remain empty. We rent the dormitories out to backpackers and when the college is holding its annual reunion, we open up the building to the alumni as well.”

Gareth nodded, though he wasn’t really listening, staring out the window behind Glorfindel’s desk. The two older Elves seemed to sense his distraction.

“What’s wrong, Gareth?” Daeron asked.

“What? Oh, nothing, really,” Gareth said, blushing slightly and sighing.

“Now that doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” Glorfindel said. “C’mon, lad, spill it.”

Gareth gave them an apologetic look. “You’re going to think I’m being silly.”

“Never,” Glorfindel assured him, leaning back in his chair. “Young, yes, I’ll grant you that, but never silly. I’ve seen you fight, don’t forget.”

“Amroth has been training Gwyn and me to fight like Elves,” Gareth admitted.

“And about time, too,” Glorfindel said, “since that’s what you are, Elves, not Mortals.”

“That’s just it, though, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Both Glorfindel and Daeron gave Gareth confused looks.

“Gwyn and I. We’ve never had the experience of living with other Elves other than our parents. We… we don’t even know how Elves are supposed to act or anything. I sat at the dinner table feeling so awkward, like some country bumpkin who doesn’t know which spoon to use for the soup. And when I told them that I didn’t have or even wanted an Elvish name, that I was Gareth and that’s all I wanted to be, I could tell that most of them were shocked.”

“And those who were are the ones from Valinor,” Glorfindel said. “I don’t think any of us Wiseman Elves cared.”

“True,” Daeron added with a nod. “Gareth, you don’t know us well enough to be able to differentiate between us, but some of us never Sailed. We have lived with the Mortals for all these ages, just like you and your parents. Our names have changed over the ages as we’ve drifted from one culture and language to another. The fact that your parents chose not to give you Elvish names makes sense to us. Even Amroth and Nimrodel are contemplating Mortal names for their children, knowing that, legally speaking, they will be citizens of this country and their surname will be McKinley. If, at a later time, they want Elvish names, they will be free to choose for themselves, but I have a feeling they won’t bother, because they won’t see the point, just as you and Gwyn don’t see the point.”

“And frankly, I’m glad you know very little about Elvish culture,” Glorfindel said.

Gareth gave him a surprised look. “Why?”

“Because Elvish culture in Aman, from what I’ve learned from Finrod and others, has stagnated, become almost entombed. There has been no real innovation for centuries. They’ve even stopped bringing forth elflings. You and Gwyn have learned to be flexible in your dealings with the various Mortal cultures that you have experienced, just as we Wiseman Elves have. We’ve adapted. The Valinórean Elves have not learned how yet, but they must or they will die and you and Gwyn will be their teachers, as will we.”

“But I’ve barely seen nine hundred years and Gwyn’s seen only a little bit more!” Gareth protested. “Even the youngest of you has seen at least a couple of millennia.”

“Age, I think, is not a factor,” Daeron said. “Experience is.”

Glorfindel nodded. “In many ways, Gareth, you are more mature at nine hundred than the youngest of the Valinórean Elves at nine thousand. You should have seen Finrod’s son, Findalaurë, and his two gwedyr when they first arrived. They were so clueless about the realities of living in Middle-earth. They were miserable little brats. Alex had to lesson them in manners. Alex! A Mortal, but someone who’s lived more in his thirty-odd years than those elflings had lived in all their millennia in Aman. Experience, Gareth. You and Gwyn have experienced life. You have done and seen things that most of the Elves of Valinor have never done or seen and that’s what is needed here. So don’t sell yourself short and don’t think you’re not good enough because you don’t have an Elvish name.”

Gareth nodded slowly, though it was clear to the older ellyn that he wasn’t completely convinced. “Well, at any rate, that’s the set-up at the moment here,” Glorfindel said, returning to their original conversation. “What do you think?”

“I think I’d like to be an Elf Guide someday,” Gareth replied with an impish grin and the other two laughed.

“C’mon,” Glorfindel said, standing. “Let’s take you into town and we’ll grab some lunch at the café. You never know which of the Valar will drop by for a visit.”

“Seriously?” Gareth asked, his eyes wide. Both Glorfindel and Daeron nodded, wide grins on their faces as they exited the office and headed outside.

*****

Saturday, Gareth met with Jud and the other Mortals who were hoping to form their own SCA group, meeting in Jud’s apartment rather than at Edhellond.

“We don’t want the naysayers to associate the SCA with the Elves,” Jud explained to Gareth, who came with Derek. Zach was there as well.

“So, only Mortals will be involved?” Gareth asked after he was introduced to everyone.

“No, but the Elves are going to join on the sly, as it were,” Jud assured him. “We want to get the group established first. We’re figuring that if we have a firm base with us Mortals, then the naysayers in town can’t accuse us of being a tool of the Elves.”

“But surely they know that you are in league with us,” Gareth said.

“Some of us, but not all, at least not openly,” one of the others said. “We’ve even agreed that known naysayers, if they want to join, can and no one will stop them. Of course, if they see that the Elves have also joined, they may not want to bother, but that’s their lookout. They can’t accuse us of exclusivity in any case.”

“Well, if you all become dues-paying members, you have more than enough to form the canton,” Gareth said. “Even if you get no more people to join, you’re good to go. Trust me, it’s a chore just to keep the population of the barony above the requisite twenty-five people needed to maintain our baronial status.”

“Well, once the Elves officially join up, our group will have very permanent members,” Jud said with a sly grin and they all chuckled at that.

“Have you decided on a name for the group?” Gareth asked.

“Well, we thought ‘Winterhaven’,” Jud said. “It’s sort of a blend of ‘Winter’s Gate’ and ‘Edhellond’, don’t you see? And I checked the SCA website. No one else has the name.”

Gareth nodded. “I think it’s appropriate. You have all the necessary papers to apply for canton status. Finish filling them out and I’ll take them with me so that the baroness can approve it. It’ll take several weeks for everything to be processed. You’ll need a device for your group as well. That should be submitted at the same time. I can help you with that.”

“What about personae?” someone asked. “How do we go about creating a persona and all?”

“Choose a time period and a country. Do some research on what people wore and how they named themselves. There are plenty of resources online these days. You can even find patterns for creating authentic garb. I’ve also brought a number of books, mostly on heraldry, that will help you create your own device. Both names and devices have to be approved if you wish to register them so no one else can use either your name or device.”

“With all the thousands of people who are in the SCA, there’s got to be some overlap, though,” someone pointed out.

“You’d be surprised,” Gareth said. “At any rate, take everything slow. There’s no rush. Concentrate on getting the group recognized by the Board of Directors and then go from there. You should plan to hold a small event sometime in the spring or summer. It should be primarily a demo event to draw people to you. Most people join because they see us in action, holding a tournament, giving demonstrations and the like. The barony will help there. We’ll come up and hold the fight demos along with our arts and sciences. This will give your own people a chance to see what to aim for.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jud said. “So, why don’t we get started?”

Everyone else agreed and for the next several hours, Gareth was busy teaching them the rudiments of heraldry and helping people find suitable names and begin creating their personae.

****

Finrod relieved Gilvagor at the hospital around eight that evening. In spite of having put in a full day’s work at the bookstore, he insisted that he was quite capable of standing watch for a few hours.

“Everyone else has had a turn,” he said to Glorfindel when the ellon had protested Finrod’s decision. “If I feel unable to stand the entire watch, I will call you and you can send someone to relieve me.”

Thus, it was during Finrod’s watch that Alex woke.

Finrod had been there for almost two hours, reading a book he had gotten from the bookstore. It was a fantasy with elves, dwarves, humans and a strange race called the hradani. And gods. One in particular was the god of war, who sounded and acted suspiciously like Lord Námo at his worst, or best, Finrod was never able to decide, but he was enjoying the book immensely. He was chuckling over a particular scene where the hero was meeting a wizard when Alex began to stir, moaning slightly.

Finrod put his book down and went to the bed to see Alex blinking open his eyes.

“Where the hell am I?” the Mortal croaked, gazing up at him. “Did I do something stupid again?”

Finrod smiled, pulling out his phone and speed-dialing a number. It was picked up on the second ring.

“DelaFiore.”

“He’s awake for real this time,” Finrod said.

“We’re on our way,” Glorfindel said and ended the call.

Finrod closed the phone and shoved it into a pocket as he stared down at the Mortal gazing up at him in puzzlement. “Well, now,” he said jovially, “welcome back, Alex. We have been hoping you would wake up soon.”

Alex stared around him for a moment before returning his gaze to Finrod and sighed. “I think I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

Finrod laughed with relief. “Oh, child, you have no idea. Now, I must inform the nurses and have one of the healers come and check you over. I will return presently.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere,” Alex said as Finrod exited the room. He closed his eyes and sighed. Someone brushed a hand through his hair and he opened his eyes again to see Lord Námo smiling down at him.

“Welcome back, best beloved,” the Vala said softly. “Welcome back.”

****

Note: The book Finrod is reading is David Weber’s Oath of Swords, the first of the Bahzell Bahnakson series. Highly recommended.





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