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Elf Academy 3: The Enemy Within  by Fiondil

76: Decisions

The door to the library opened and Glorfindel stepped in. “Whoa, get a room you two!”

Gareth reluctantly pulled himself from Nielluin, suddenly realizing what they had done and felt himself turning red. Nielluin appeared to be equally chagrined, for her fair complexion was also red with embarrassment. Yet, he noticed with some delight that they were still holding hands.

“Okay, so what’s going on here?” Glorfindel demanded, glaring at Finrod and then at Gareth and Nielluin.

“He kissed my cousin!” Finda exclaimed in shock. “Why did he kiss her?”

“I think she was kissing him,” Calandil opined.

“No, they were kissing each other, like the way Brice and Kelly were doing the other day, remember?” Elennen offered, then turned to Gareth. “Did you kiss with your tongue? Brice and Kelly were doing that and it was so gross.”

Everyone stared at the ellon with various degrees of disbelief. Then Glorfindel actually smiled as he turned to Finrod, speaking almost confidentially. “He’s so naïve, isn’t he?”

Finrod just shrugged, then stared pointedly at Gareth’s hand still clasped in Nielluin’s and Gareth released her. Nielluin gave a small gasp of dismay. Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed and then he nodded.

“So it’s like that, is it?” he said. “Another Aulë and Yavanna.”

“Who?” Gareth asked in perplexity, trying to remember if he’d ever been told anything about the Worldsmith and the Lady of Fruits other than their names.

“Long story, best told by Lord Manwë with comments from the other Valar acting as a Greek chorus,” Glorfindel replied with a grin. “They even composed a song about it.”

“But he kissed her!” Finda protested.

“Put a sock in it, my son,” Finrod said and now everyone was staring at him with various degrees of surprise. He gave them a disdainful sniff. “I am quite capable of learning native idioms.”

“Yes, you are,” Glorfindel said with an approving nod. “Okay, let’s all take a deep breath and a step back, as Ron would say, and start from the beginning.”

“It was the usual thing,” Finrod said. “I haven’t seen it happen in quite some time though. I think it was a product of an earlier age, a means by which Eru paired us when we were still learning how to… er… find a suitable mate. You recall that few people experienced it in the Second Age.”

“I know you and Amarië did, sort of, or at least, I was told as much,” Glorfindel said. “I wasn’t there when you first met, but I heard there was a definite spark between you.”

“Yes, though we restrained ourselves and did not fall into each other’s arms and start kissing immediately.” He gave both Gareth and Nielluin a pointed look.

“I didn’t mean to,” Gareth protested, thinking he sounded like he did when he was a child and had done something he shouldn’t.

“No, of course not, and I’m sure Nell didn’t mean to either,” Glorfindel said soothingly, “but you did and it appears we have a match.”

“Impossible!” Finrod insisted. “My niece marrying a… a commoner? Her parents will have something to say about that, mark my words. Galadriel will raise the roof.”

“No doubt,” Glorfindel said reasonably, “but so what? When have you ever been afraid of your sister, or Celeborn, for that matter? Besides, the deed is done, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean? Their union has not yet been consummated.”

“But they looked into each other’s eyes and sparks flew and even now I can sense the marriage bond forming between them, as can you, if you stopped ranting long enough to look.”

Gareth widened his eyes in shock and stepped away from Nielluin. He had been stung by Finrod’s comment and wondered how he could be so naïve as to think that someone like him could ever be considered Finrod’s peer, regardless of what had passed between them the other day. “But I don’t want to get married!” he found himself saying, almost pleadingly. “I’m too young.”

“Nonsense,” Glorfindel insisted. “Why, a lot of people get married when they’re about four hundred years old. You’re leaving it rather late, my boy.”

“You are not helping, gwador,” Finrod said between clenched teeth.

“And you’re being an old fuddy-duddy,” Glorfindel retorted. “Honestly, talk about double standards.”

“Nielluin is of royal blood, thrice over,” Finrod pointed out.

“And so?” Glorfindel countered. “You’re turning into a snob, Finrod. I thought you better than that. At least she had the good sense to fall for another Elf instead of a Mortal.”

“Hey, dinner’s getting cold. Why are you all standing around here arguing?”

They all turned to see Daeron standing at the doorway.

“Um… we’re having a bit of a discussion about Gareth and Nell,” Glorfindel replied. “We’ll be along presently.”

Daeron came further into the room. “What’s the problem? Oh…” His eyes widened as he glanced between Gareth and Nielluin and then at the expressions on the faces of the others. He nodded. “So, that’s the way of it, is it? Should I prepare a bridal bower for them? Amroth and Della’s old room is available.”

“There will be no bridal bower,” Finrod exclaimed angrily. “My niece will not be marrying anyone today.”

“Why don’t you let her decide that, gwador,” Glorfindel countered, looking disgusted and amused at the same time. “She is of age and knows her own mind. You really have nothing to say about it. To borrow a phrase from the Mortal wedding ceremony, ‘What Eru has joined together, let no Man or Elf put asunder’. Now, as Darren says, dinner is getting cold. We’ll discuss it later.”

“Maybe I should just leave,” Gareth offered. “I can stay at the Goldmine Inn and—”

“You will do no such thing,” Glorfindel said firmly. “You are our guest, or at least you are mine, if others decide to disown you, and you’re staying put. You did nothing wrong, Gareth, neither you nor Nell. It is apparently Eru’s will whether certain people acknowledge it or not. Now, come along, everyone.” He took Gareth and Nielluin by their elbows and marched out of the room with Daeron right behind them, grinning. Reluctantly, the others followed.

When they reached the dining room, Glorfindel beamed at the others. “Sorry to hold up dinner, but there was a slight incident. Now, let’s eat. Gareth, you sit here and Nell, you can sit opposite him. Finrod, stop fuming and take your seat.”

The other Elves had various expressions, ranging from bemusement to downright confusion, as they sensed the tension between their two leaders. Valandur quietly observed the interplay between Finrod and Glorfindel, noticed the scowl on Finda’s face, the amused look on Daeron’s face and the shy looks that passed between Gareth and Nielluin. He smiled.

“Well, congratulations. It’s been ages, literally, since I’ve seen this phenomenon. I remember how it was when we still resided in Cuiviénen. One just had to look into another’s eyes and you knew that you belonged to one another.”

“Yes, it was quite interesting to see,” Daeron said, casting a fond smile at Gareth and Nielluin.

“But, can it truly be?” Prince Legolas asked. “And if so, why now when the phenomenon no longer manifests itself among us? Well I remember my own parents regaling me and my siblings with tales of Elves finding their one true love in the most interesting circumstances, including their own, but in my own days nothing like it happened anymore.”

“Yet, that is not to say it cannot happen again,” Glorfindel pointed out. “Obviously, Eru has other ideas.”

“You believe this… what has happened is as Eru wills?” Finrod asked.

“You should know better than most, gwador,” Glorfindel countered. “Look, I’m sure your sister and Celeborn have plans for Nell, no doubt they’ve been trying to arrange a suitable marriage for her among the royal cousins, but really why should they think that what never applied to them should apply to her? You each found your true love without interference from others.”

“Yet, I am responsible for her,” Finrod said. “I promised—”

“And I’m sure you’re doing an excellent job,” Glorfindel interjected, “but the fact remains that Nell is well above the age of consent and does not need anyone’s permission to do anything, not you, not her parents, not even Ingwë acting as the head of your extended family. She has a mind and a heart of her own and apparently Eru in His infinite wisdom has decided that she and Gareth should be bonded.”

“But she’s of royal blood and Gareth—” Thandir started to say, but Glorfindel interrupted.

“Gareth can speak for himself and frankly I think he’s a perfect match for Nell.”

“You do?” Gareth asked in surprise.

Glorfindel nodded. “Nell can be a handful, much like her mother, but Celeborn could always rein her in and I suspect you will be able to do the same with Nell. You have a steady head on your shoulders and you see the world as it truly is and not as others wish it to be. You’ve lived and worked alongside the Mortals and know them far more intimately than even us Wiseman Elves, with the exception of Ron, perhaps. Nell can learn much from you and you can learn much from her, for she can teach you what it means to be an Elf among Elves, something you haven’t had the opportunity to experience up till now.”

“It just doesn’t seem fair, though,” Finda groused.

“What do you mean, my son?” Finrod asked, looking and sounding exasperated.

Finda practically glowered at Nielluin. “You always get what you want without lifting a finger while I always have to work for it.”

“I do not,” Nielluin protested. “Well, not always.”

“Yes, always,” Finda countered with a scowl. “And now you’ve even found your true love. It’s not fair.”

“As I recall, my son,” Finrod said with a knowing smile, “you went out of your way to avoid your mother and mine attempts to introduce you to suitable ellith.”

“Insipid, stupid and silly,” Finda sneered. “I find Mortal females appear to have more brains.”

“Just don’t go marrying one,” Glorfindel said with a grin.

Finda gave him a disbelieving look. “I’m not that stupid.”

“Well, let us get back to Gareth and Nielluin, shall we?” Finrod said. “We will discuss you and your marriage prospects at a later date, my son.”

“What exactly is there to discuss, Finrod?” Glorfindel demanded. “It’s done. Even you have to acknowledge it. They’re sitting across from each other and I can feel their bond growing stronger by the minute.”

“But they have not consummated their union and they are not touching one another,” Finrod retorted with a frown.

Glorfindel grinned. “Well, right now they’re both playing footsies under the table.”

Both Gareth and Nielluin gave guilty starts and Finda actually bent down to look under the table.

“Finda! Stop that!” Finrod commanded and his son straightened, looking abashed. A couple of the ellith tittered and there were knowing smirks among many of the others. Finrod stared down the table to where Glorfindel sat with a smug look while Gareth and Nielluin stared at one another, their dinners forgotten, and sighed. “What am I going to tell your parents?” he muttered.

“They’re not here, Finrod,” Glorfindel pointed out. “You don’t have to tell them anything and I doubt the Maiar will go running back to Valinor to blab the news and even if they did, there’s an ocean and an entire dimension between us and them. They’re not about to hijack Vingilot and demand that Eärendil bring them to Wiseman.”

Finrod snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past Galadriel to do just that.”

“Hmm… you may be right about that, but let’s not borrow trouble, shall we? We have enough on our plate as it is. I agree that there’s no need to rush this, so Daeron, you can forget about spreading rose petals on Amroth and Della’s old bed just yet.”

“Blast,” Daeron said good-naturedly, “and here I was all set to start singing our traditional wedding night song.”

“Why did you compare us to Lord Aulë and Lady Yavanna?” Gareth suddenly asked, remembering Glorfindel’s initial comment.

Valandur wasn’t the only person in the room to chuckle. “That’s a tale best told by the Valar themselves,” he said.

“So Loren said,” Gareth allowed, “but what does it have to do with us?” He gestured to Nielluin and himself.

It was Finrod who answered. “Only that, as the story goes, Eru had no sooner created those two Ainur when they were bonding before the One had time to introduce them to one another. The other Valar found it quite amusing and still do and both Aulë and Yavanna blush whenever the subject is brought up.”

“Oh,” Gareth said, glancing shyly at Nielluin.

“Oh, indeed,” Glorfindel said with a grin. “Look, let’s just stay calm about this. I don’t care what Eru’s plans are for you two. If you’re meant to be together, whatever anyone else has to say about it, then you will be, but in the meantime, you, Gareth, have to return to Fairbanks, and Nell has her college studies, so there will be no marriage at least until she’s finished with that. And I imagine you will need to make plans to either return here to live or—”

“I absolutely forbid Nielluin to move to Fairbanks,” Finrod interjected with much heat. “Her place is here with her family.”

“Well, that’s a discussion for a later time,” Glorfindel said soothingly. “Right now, let’s just concentrate on dinner, shall we? You two will have to rein in your natural tendencies. We will declare you betrothed, which means no marriage for at least a year.”

“A year!” Gareth couldn’t help exclaiming. “But that’s so long. I don’t know if I can wait a whole year.”

Everyone else, even Nielluin, gave him disbelieving looks. Finrod shook his head. “Mortal born,” he muttered and Gareth blushed, recalling their conversation.

“Not his fault,” Glorfindel said, giving Gareth a sympathetic look. “And I know it seems like a long time, Gareth, but it isn’t and I think you’ll find yourself too busy to notice, once you start helping us with our training program.”

Gareth sighed but did not otherwise protest.

“So, do we draw up a betrothal contract?” Erestor asked. “Who would stand in for Gareth, since neither his brother nor his parents are here to officiate?”

“Well, I suppose I could,” Glorfindel said with a shrug. “Pity we don’t know your actual heritage, Gareth, but you say your parents refused to speak of it. It’s possible one of us is actually kin to you and would be suitable as a stand-in for your parents.”

Gareth shrugged back. “I doubt they’ll be any more forthcoming now even if I were foolish enough to tell them about what’s happened.”

“But surely you will tell your parents and Gwyn the news,” Daeron said.

“I don’t think I should, at least not yet,” Gareth answered, looking at Nielluin. “My parents are still getting over the shock of knowing there are other Elves in Middle-earth. Gwyn’s working on convincing them to come to Roy and Sarah’s wedding. We can tell them then. I’d rather do that in person than through Skype or an email.”

“That is highly commendable of you, Gareth,” Valandur said before anyone else could comment. “Perhaps we can wait until then to draw up the contract when all parties are present. Finrod, of course, would negotiate on Nielluin’s behalf.”

“What is there to negotiate, though?” Gareth asked in confusion. “It’s not like in the old days when you could buy a bride with a score of sheep and a couple of horses. I don’t have anything like that. Just a bank account and it’s pretty modest even by Mortal standards. And if Nell’s parents have set aside something for a dowry, it’s in Valinor and you can’t exactly Fed-Ex it here, can you? Can’t we just, I don’t know, do it the Mortal way with blood test…er… no that won’t work, the lab would freak out at the results.”

“We can discuss it later,” Glorfindel said. “There are many ways to draw up the contract. It’s really just a promissory note if you want to look at it that way, a kind of I.O.U. where you and Nell promise that after a given period of time you will marry, nothing more. Sort of like church banns.”

“Yes, but the purpose of church banns is to give the community the opportunity to protest the marriage if anyone has cause to suspect that the couple are marrying for the wrong reasons,” Daeron put in. “A betrothal contract is more of a done deal. In many ways, it means that the couple is indeed married, but the time of consummation has been delayed for the sake of propriety.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Glorfindel said amiably. “In the meantime, you two will be suitably chaperoned at all times, as long as Gareth is staying with us, which probably will only be for another couple of days. Latest report on the Yukon is that it’s crested and beginning to ebb, so I suspect you’ll be on your way back to Fairbanks by mid-week. Nell, you will return to college, but you may come and visit with Gareth in the evenings as long as you have completed your studies for the day. Plan to come for dinner. Gareth, I want your word that you will not seek out Nell on campus during the day.”

Gareth bowed his head. “Thou hast my word, Lord Glorfindel,” he said formally, recalling earlier times when one’s word was one’s bond and to give it without meaning to abide by it was considered reprehensible and a sin. While he did not believe in sin, he did believe in honor and had never done anything to besmirch his; he was not about to do so now, even in this modern age where promises were made and broken with seeming impunity.

That formalness of his words seemed to satisfy the others, for they gave him approving looks. Even Nielluin smiled approvingly, and that pleased him more than anything.

“That’s settled then. Do we agree, Brother?” Glorfindel demanded of Finrod, giving his gwador a significant look.

“Yes, we agree,” Finrod said.

“Then I would like to propose a toast,” Daeron said with a wide smile, lifting his glass. “To Nielluin and Gareth.”

No one moved, all of them looking at Finrod, as if waiting for some signal. For a brief second or two, Finrod sat there unmoving but then he reached over and lifted his glass. “To Nielluin and Gareth,” he repeated.

There was almost a sigh of relief from everyone else as they all lifted their glasses and echoed him, though Finda, several people noticed, was the last to do so. Gareth and Nielluin meanwhile sat there giving one another shy glances, playing footsies under the table.

****

Later, after the dishes had been cleared and people either wandered away to pursue their own pleasures or sauntered into the library for singing and storytelling, Gareth managed to get Nielluin alone long enough to give her his email and Skype addresses, slipping her a sticky note he’d stolen from the kitchen pad. “That way we can still keep in contact after I leave,” he said.

“I’ll email you tonight so you’ll have my address,” she whispered, slipping the note into a pocket just as Melyanna and Lindorillë appeared.

“Come along, child,” Melyanna said, taking Nielluin by the arm. “You may sit with us.” The two older ellith gave Gareth sympathetic smiles as they led the younger ellith away.

Gareth sighed, thinking the whole thing was absurd and so… medieval. That thought forced a chuckle from him and he shook his head in chagrin. He was tempted to forego the storytelling, but that would mean not seeing Nell, so he followed the ellith into the library were Barahir and Gilvegil motioned for him to join them and he did. He had to confess to himself, though, that he paid little attention to what was going on around him, being content to stare across the room to where Nell was sitting and she seemed equally content to spend the evening smiling at him. If others noticed (and they would all have to be blind not to), they did not say anything then or later, at least not in Gareth’s hearing.

Much later, he was in his room, speaking with Gwyn via Skype, lying in bed with the laptop on his stomach.

“So, anything interesting happening?” Gwyn asked once they had exchanged greetings, the two of them speaking a dialect of Welsh that had not been heard by any Mortal in seven hundred years.

“No, nothing of import,” Gareth temporized. “What about you?”

Gareth saw Gwyn narrowing his eyes and hoped that distance would prevent his brother from knowing that he was lying, for Gwyn always knew when Gareth was being less than truthful. For a moment, his brother just stared into the camera and Gareth found himself holding his breath and hoping his expression was not giving him away. It was so hard to lie to Gwyn but he didn’t think he could really explain it to his brother. It would be better to do so once he was home, or so he hoped, and how he would explain it to his parents he just didn’t know. Well, one thing at a time.

Gwyn’s expression smoothed. “No, nothing really important. Everyone misses you, of course, and hope you can make it back home soon.”

“Loren says the Yukon has crested and he thinks I’ll be able to leave by midweek.”

“Good. Good. I worry about you Gareth.”

“Why? This isn’t the first time we’ve been apart for a few days. Honestly, Gwyn! I’m not an elfling. Give me a break!”

“You’ve always seemed so… young, though.”

“You mean naïve. Well, you’re only forty years older than I.”

“Forty-two.”

“Whatever. It’s not as if you’ve had ages and ages of experience compared to me. And you should talk. I’m not the one who was convinced that Lady whatshername, the one with the squint, actually thought you were her knight in shining armor.” He gave his brother a sneer and Gwyn had the grace to blush.

“Water under the bridge,” the older brother muttered, not quite looking at Gareth.

“Yes, well. There you go,” Gareth nearly crowed and then relented. “Sorry. I know that’s a painful memory for you, brother mine, but all I’m saying is that I’m not as naïve as you want me to be just so you can feel that much more superior to me.”

“I never said that,” Gwyn protested, “but I promised Mam that I would look after you.”

“When we were elflings, sure, but neither one of us have been that for ages. We’re both adults and it’s high time the rest of the family acknowledged it, including you.”

“Okay, okay. Keep your shirt on, little brother,” Gwyn said, giving him a wry grin. “Look, I’d like to stay and chat with you all night but I’ve been working overtime lately and I find I need to get a couple of hours of sleep if I want to be conscious tomorrow, especially as I have an administrative meeting to attend.”

“Ack! Better you than me,” Gareth said with little sympathy. “Okay, then go get your beauty rest and I’ll talk with you later. I should give Mam and Da a call.”

“Don’t bother,” Gwyn said. “I spoke with them last night and they’re off to Malta for some physics convention or another. Mam decided she needed a break from her teaching schedule for a couple of days. They won’t be back home until Sunday.”

“Hmm… fine then. Thanks for letting me know. As soon as I know for sure when I’m coming home, I’ll call you.”

“Thanks. Good night.”

 “Sweet dreams.” Gareth ended the call and shut down his laptop and leaned back with a sigh. He wasn’t feeling in any need for sleep but he wouldn’t mind dreaming of Nell. He moved off the bed to put the laptop safely away and then climbed back onto the bed and stretched out, his hands laced behind his head as he gazed up at the ceiling recalling every little detail about the elleth: the way her hair shone in the light, the blueness of her eyes, the cute tilt of her nose, her radiant smile, her feminine curves, her…

Somewhere in his musings he actually fell asleep.  





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