92: Countdown to a Wedding

The Elves at Edhellond were enjoying breakfast on Saturday, laughing over their ploy to leave the stuffed rabbits on Amroth’s front lawn, contemplating what the reaction to the joke would be when the kitchen phone rang.

Glorfindel grinned as he went to answer it. “Hello?... Amroth! What a surprise. How is everything?” Several of the Elves snickered at Glorfindel’s smug expression, which turned to feigned shock. “You don’t say? Really? Now who would have done such a thing?... Moi? Surely you jest.” He held the receiver away from his ear so they could all hear Amroth’s response, which was mildly scatological.

“… and don’t call me Shirley,” he ended in pique, though they could tell he was trying not to laugh and indeed they could hear laughter in the background.

Everyone started laughing as well, including Glorfindel, who returned the receiver to his ear. “So what are you going to do with all those bunnies, Amroth?... Good idea and if you want to blame anyone, you can blame Ron. He’s the one who said I’d get gray hairs teaching Finrod to drive. Dan and Roy took him at his word and went out and bought every gray-furred toy bunny they could find. The stores were probably grateful to get rid of the post-Easter stuff… It went very well… Next thing you know we’ll be taking him to the used car lot to buy his first car…” He gave Finrod a wink. “Yeah, you and me both… Love to Della and Holly… See you later.”

He hung up, smiling as he turned to the others. “They’re going to hold on to three of the toys for the children and then take the rest to the children’s ward at the hospital.”

Everyone nodded in satisfaction as they went back to their breakfast.

“I’ve got to run over to Elf Academy for a bit,” Daeron said to Finrod. “If you want, you can come with me and I’ll let you drive to work.”

“Thank you. I would like that,” Finrod said sincerely. Then he looked at Glorfindel. “You barely have enough room for the vehicles you have now. If we all eventually get our own cars, where will we put them?”

“Yes, that is something we’ll need to think about,” Glorfindel said.

“You know, there’s that vacant lot next to us that’s been for sale since we’ve been here,” Barahir said. “Perhaps we could look into purchasing it and turning it into a car park for everyone. We might have to build a garage or something since it’s zoned for residential use, but I think we could get away with it.”

“Neighbors might consider it an eyesore, though, and complain,” Eirien pointed out.

“Which is why I said ‘car park’ with an emphasis on park,” Barahir retorted with a smile.

“Ah, yes,” Daeron said with a nod. “It’s certainly worth looking into. I doubt after all this time, anyone’s going to buy that lot. The economy has been too depressed these last few years for it. Whoever owns it probably thinks they’ll have to sell it at a loss.”

“I’ll call Siobhan and have her look into it,” Glorfindel said. “If the price is reasonable, I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.”

“Another thing,” Gilvegil offered. “Right now, those of us who drive have our own vehicles, but really, having nearly forty cars? That’s ridiculous. I think we should invest in a small fleet of cars, not owned by anyone in particular, but available to anyone with a license.”

“They’ll need to be owned by someone though for insurance purposes and the title,” Daeron pointed out.

“Can we incorporate ourselves and then the vehicles will belong to… um… Edhellond, Inc?” Gilvegil suggested.

“Become a corporation?” Eirien asked. “That’s a whole other ball game with its own headaches, especially when it comes to taxes. I should know. I spent quite a few years working as a paralegal in a law firm in Chicago that handled that sort of thing.”

“Still, it might be the most sensible way to go,” Glorfindel opined. “There’s no harm looking into it and weighing all our options, is there?” When the others shook their heads, he nodded. “Then why don’t I have Siobhan check out the possibility of becoming a corporation as well? We’ll probably have to incorporate as a not-for-profit corporation. Whatever. I’ll give her a call later.”

To that, no one disagreed. They finished up breakfast and Daeron and Finrod left with Finrod getting into the driver’s seat. Glorfindel watched from the front door as Daeron pointed things out in the car, apparently apprising Finrod of some of the differences between the car and the van. Then Finrod turned over the engine, gave Glorfindel a wave, which Glorfindel returned, and drove slowly out of the drive. Only when the car was out of sight did he go back inside the house, checking the time and deciding it was still too early to call Siobhan Brennan and have her start looking into getting Edhellond incorporated and buying the empty lot up the street, so he went into the library and spent some time on the computer playing solitaire before putting in the call.

****

With the wedding only a few weeks away, preparations went into full swing. Elrohir and Serindë went to the hospital to have the blood tests done, since they were applying for an actual wedding license, and while the ceremony would be elvish, Judge Harrison had agreed to officiate ‘on the side’ to make the marriage legally binding by the laws of the state of Alaska. Kyle Stoner took the blood samples, assuring the couple that as soon as they had done the necessary tests, the samples would be destroyed and the results would be given to Elrohir for him to do as he thought best. No other copies would be made.

“And I’ll be there through the entire process,” Kyle assured them, “so there will be no chance of one of the techies getting cute and deciding to send the samples or at least the results of the samples to CDC in Atlanta or something.”

“I’d like to be there as well,” Elrohir said and Kyle had no objections.

When the results came back from the lab a few days later, Kyle took a moment to read through the report and whistled. “Man, it’s a good thing we’re friends and colleagues, Roy, otherwise I’d have you strapped down and dissected in a New York minute.”

Elrohir laughed, knowing the young Man didn’t mean it. “Have you figured out the baseline for the Elves yet? Dan and I would’ve volunteered, but our systems are too screwy and not pure enough, being half-breeds.”

“Well, with Mir’s help, we’ve been able to come up with a workable baseline, but we’re still unsure about your blood types and how close to ours they are. He suggested you all donate some blood and we’ll have the lab start typing you. We really will need the information so we can come up with some kind of solution to blood transfusions when a healer is unavailable to stimulate blood production the way Ernest did when Loren got hurt.”

“And do you really trust the lab boys to keep all this under wraps?” Elrohir asked.

Kyle shook his head. “No, unfortunately, I don’t, which is why I’ve hesitated to ask for blood samples from all of you.”

“Well, it’s something that we should discuss and see what we can do to minimize the risk of exposure,” Elrohir said. “I’ll talk it over with Loren and see what he has to say about it.”

Kyle agreed and then they went their separate ways.

Later that evening, while the Elves were enjoying dinner, Elrohir broached the subject of blood typing and how it could be done without endangering the Elves. “Last thing we need is CDC or some other agency invading Wiseman dressed in haz-mat suits and herding us into sterile labs from which we would never emerge alive,” he concluded grimly.

More than one Elf grimaced at the thought.

“Life was so much simpler even a hundred years ago when the Mortals barely understood the significance of blood types and genetics wasn’t even really in its infancy yet,” Gilvegil offered with a sigh. “Now they’re mapping their own genomes and tracing their ancestry back to a single parent a good sixty thousand years ago. Of course, they don’t know about the civilizations that existed prior to the ice age, though they have vague legends about a golden age and Atlantis and all. But most people dismiss them as fairy tales or wishful thinking on the part of neo-pagans and hippies claiming a deeper heritage than any suspect. Even they don’t really have a clue.”

“Too true,” Glorfindel said. “I really have to laugh at some of their theories, but at the same time, I have to give them credit for wanting to learn about their past as much as they can. The work in genetics is, quite frankly, astounding and I doubt any of us would have even thought to explore our own genetic past.”

“That’s because we have not evolved in the same manner or at the same rate as the Mortals,” Daeron pointed out, “though we do evolve as all species must if they are to survive. The oldest of us, at least the oldest of us ellyn, are even showing signs of being able to produce beards, though we prefer not to allow them to grow.”

“Ingwë has a beard,” Glorfindel said. “Círdan is the only other Elf I know who’s bothered with one. Even Elu remained clean-shaven though he had to be nearly as old as the Shipwright.”

“Círdan was always a law unto himself,” Valandur said with a smile. “I remember him on the Great Journey. Every time we came to a body of water he got all excited and would pester Lord Oromë about it. The ellon was obsessed. We used to joke about him having water in his veins instead of blood.”

There were chuckles all around at that. “Well, getting back to the subject of blood typing,” Elrohir said, “what do you think we should do?”

“If we could be sure that the lab boys don’t get cute, I think typing is important,” Glorfindel said.

“Why not limit the number of people involved?” Finrod offered. “How many people does it take to do this typing of which you speak?”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Glorfindel admitted. “In fact, I have no clue how they even go about doing it or if it takes more than one person or if it’s all done with computers or what. I think we need to find out. If we can indeed limit the number of lab technicians involved and have complete oversight of the procedure from beginning to end, I think it would be wise for us to submit to the test. I’m not sure exactly how useful such information will be, though. We’re a pretty small sample and it’s possible that not all blood types are represented here.”

“Still, it would be a start, and perhaps as other Elves either come from Valinor or are found living here, the gaps will be filled in,” Finrod said. “I understand that there are only four blood types among the Mortals?” He addressed the question to Elrohir, who nodded.

“Four major blood types, each either being positive or negative. When we were operating on Loren, we saw that his blood type was very close to AB positive, which was really a godsend because AB-positive is considered the universal recipient, meaning that it can accept any of the other blood types, though we didn’t use any AB blood. We went with O negative, since it’s the universal donor. In other words, all other blood types can accept it without fear of rejection. Unfortunately, in Loren’s case, his blood type isn’t quite the same as AB positive. There were some small but significant differences and that caused problems. Even among Mortals transfusions can be risky.”

“Well, let’s plan to discuss all this with Kyle and Geoff and see what can be done,” Glorfindel suggested and the others agreed, the conversation shifting to the preparations for the wedding.

“The wedding gown is finished,” Serindë said with a smile. “And the bridesmaid dresses are also done.”

“Are they going to be ugly like most bridesmaid dresses are?” Glorfindel asked with a grin.

“Elves do not do ugly, Brother,” Finrod said before Serindë could answer.

“Yeah?” Glorfindel retorted with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “So do you want to describe your wedding garment, the first one, I mean, or should I?”

Finrod paled and reddened in embarrassment at the same time as Glorfindel gave him a significant look.

“You mean that atrocious color combination Lady Almáriel dreamt up?” Vardamir asked with a laugh. “And the wedding china that matched! I had Morgoth’s own time calming all the Reborn. Did you really think you were fighting Sauron and used a Song of Power to burn the garb up?”

“And he was stark naked when he did it, too,” Glorfindel added somewhat maliciously. “Gave all the seamstresses an interesting view of their king’s heir.”

Everyone just about goggled at Finrod in disbelief. The Twins laughed. “I remember you telling us about that at Arwen’s wedding,” Elladan said to Glorfindel. “Funniest story I’d ever heard.”

Finrod refused to look up from his plate. “It was… very ugly.”

“Amen to that,” Glorfindel said with all sincerity, taking a sip of his wine.

“Well, anyway, the invitations were sent out just after our New Year and most of our friends will be there,” Elrohir said in the silence that ensued. “The caterers are all set, as is the florist. We have our license, so that’s all legal. About all we need to do now is show up.”

“I’m getting married in the morning!” Daeron started singing with a grin.

“Ding dong! The bells are gonna chime!” sang the other Wiseman Elves, except Elrohir and Serindë. “Pull out the stopper! Let’s have a whopper! But get me to the church on time.”

“If I am dancin’, roll up the floor,” Elrohir sang to Serindë, giving her a smile. “If I am whistling, Whewt me out the door. For I’m getting married in the morning! Ding dong! The bells are gonna chime. Kick up a rumpus but don’t lose the compass; and get me to the church, get me to the church, for Gawd’s sake get me to the church on time.” Then he leant over and the two exchanged kisses while everyone else started laughing and some even clapped.

“A most interesting song,” Finrod said once they had calmed down a bit.

“From My Fair Lady,” Glorfindel said. “It’s a rather clever song. Mortals are good at clever.”

“Speaking of weddings,” Daeron said, “I got an email from Gwyn earlier. Tristan and Iseult are flying into Fairbanks on Wednesday. Gwyn says he would appreciate it if you and Finrod could be there to greet them.”

“Why?” Glorfindel demanded, giving them a scowl. “That’s easily a three-day trip for us. They should just come up. Gareth knows the way. They don’t need us to lead them.”

“I’m sure both Gwyn and Gareth are more than capable, but I got the impression that they’re both a bit nervous.”

“Nervous? Nervous about what? Meeting with their own parents?” Glorfindel shook his head in disbelief.

“I’m only telling you what was said in the email and what my impressions are,” Daeron retorted with a diffident shrug. “Should I email back and tell them ‘rots aruck’ and ‘we’ll see you when you get here’?”

“What do you think, Finrod?” Glorfindel asked rather than answering Daeron.

“I would like to see Fairbanks again and I promised Finda and Nell that I would arrange for them to visit.”

“But after the wedding and the end of term,” Glorfindel said. “We’ll take them and the other two youngsters down to celebrate surviving their first semester at college.”

Finrod nodded in acquiescence. “Still, I have the feeling that our being there to greet the ap Hywels might not be a bad idea.”

“It’s a long trip down and up, though, and it’ll be Thursday before we get back, if we’re lucky.”

“That gives you and the others an entire day to recover before the wedding,” Daeron pointed out. “Two days actually, since the wedding will be in the evening and you aren’t involved with any of the preparations.”

“Except I have to be there to officiate,” Finrod said with a gentle smile at Elrohir and Serindë, both of whom blushed for some reason.

“Is there going to be a wedding rehearsal?” Elladan asked.

“We probably should walk through it,” Finrod answered, “especially since it will not be a strictly elven ceremony. You wish to incorporate something of the mortal ceremony as well, I understand.”

Elrohir nodded. “There are aspects of their wedding ceremony that we would like to use and with Judge Harrison co-officiating, it will be necessary for certain things to happen to make the marriage binding by the laws of Alaska.”

“I still do not understand why that is necessary,” Haldir said, looking more confused than disdainful and others nodded in agreement.

Elrohir looked at Glorfindel who shrugged, effectively giving the younger ellon permission to answer the former Marchwarden of Lothlórien. The younger son of Elrond turned to address Haldir.

“There’s a saying among Mortals and I’ve heard many versions of it over time. My favorite is: ‘When in Rome, be a Roman candle’.”

“What does that mean?” Brethorn asked with a laugh.

Elrohir smiled. “Two thousand years ago, Rome was one of the greatest empires the Mortals ever had. The Romans held sway over the lands from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean and as far north as Britain and the people and cultures over whom they ruled were many and varied. The city of Rome itself was considered the center of the universe. ‘All roads lead to Rome’ was a popular saying of the time. Si fueris Romae, Romano vitio more; si fueris alibi, vitio sicut ibi is the original phrase: ‘If you were in Rome, live in the Roman way; if you are elsewhere, live as they do there’.”

“Which is just good manners,” Glorfindel interjected. “In other words, it is polite, even advantageous, to abide by the customs of a society when one is a visitor, and for all intents and purposes, that is what we are, even those of us who have abided among the Mortals for longer than they can conceive. Roy and Sarah are merely being polite, asking Jim Harrison, for instance, to co-officiate along with Finrod. Since we live in the State of Alaska, it behooves us to abide by its laws.” He paused for a moment to take a sip of his wine before continuing. “Which is why, for instance, I had Finrod go through the process of obtaining a learner’s permit before I allowed him behind the wheel. Darren could have simply manufactured one, forging the permit as we’ve had to forge birth certificates and the like, but this way, Finrod gets a better sense of what every Mortal who wishes to drive has to go through to obtain a license and he does so legitimately.”

“And I agree with you, Brother,” Finrod said. “I stood in line waiting to be served, imagining what my atar would say if he saw me.” All the Valinórean Elves laughed at that. Finrod continued, “I also had the experience of having to take a test in order to receive my permit rather than having it just handed to me, something I have not had to do before. It was a very interesting experience, one that all of you will eventually have.”

The Wiseman Elves nodded in understanding while the Valinórean Elves all looked thoughtful as they contemplated Finrod’s words.

“Well, getting back to Gwyn, Darren,” Glorfindel said after a moment, “you might as well email him back and tell him Finrod and I will be down on Tuesday.” Daeron nodded.

“I will need to check with Nick first but I am sure he will not mind my taking a few days off,” Finrod.

“You do that, Bookstore Boy,” Glorfindel said with a grin.

“Will you please stop calling me that!” Finrod exclaimed while everyone else chuckled. “You remember the last time you called me something inappropriate?” He gave Glorfindel a significant look.

“What happened?” Daeron asked, his expression a mixture of curiosity and amusement that was mirrored on the faces of everyone else.

“Never you mind,” Glorfindel retorted hastily, cutting off anything Finrod might say. “We’ll plan to leave by seven, if that meets with your approval,” he said to Finrod, giving him a bright smile, “and… I’ll even let you drive.”

Unsure if that last was an apology or a bribe, Finrod decided it didn’t matter; he simply raised an eyebrow in response.