99: Elrond in Oz

Elrond was hard-pressed to keep up with the other four healers as they ran down streets and dodged traffic, not because he was in any way out of shape, but because he kept slowing down to gape at something along the way, whether it was at a group of Mortal children playing a game of tag and waving at the Elves as they ran by, shouting greetings of ‘Mae govannen’, or it was the variety of buildings or Mortals whom they passed. And the strange conveyances that Vardamir called cars! His curiosity was piqued by the sights and sounds of the town and everything fascinated him.

“Ada,” Elrohir called from ahead. “Try to keep up. We’re nearly there. See?” He pointed to where the street they were traversing seemed to open up and there before them was the tallest building he had yet seen here, perhaps ten floors high, made seemingly of white stone and smoky dark glass that reflected the sunlight so one could not see within.

Without conscious thought, he simply stopped and stared. He well remembered the White City of Gondor that had been known as Minas Tirith when he last lived on these shores. Ecthelion’s tower had been the tallest building there, but this building, this hospital, was easily twice as high. He felt almost dizzy looking up at it.

“Ada!” Elladan called. “We must go. Lives are depending on us.”

Elrond forced himself to tear his gaze from the building to see his sons and the other two healers standing there waiting for him. His sons appeared impatient, while Vardamir and Eärnur seemed more sympathetic.

“It takes getting used to,” Vardamir said with a gentle smile. “Shall we go?”

And the very calmness of the ellon’s manner helped Elrond to put aside his own sense of awe and he nodded. “Forgive me. I did not mean to embarrass anyone.”

“We’re not embarrassed, Ada,” Elladan said in a conciliatory tone. “I promise that tomorrow, we’ll be more than happy to show you around, but right now, we need to get inside and start helping.”

“Yes, you are right, my son,” Elrond said with a nod. “Let us go, then.”

With that, they loped across the intervening distance to the Urgent Care entrance and went inside (Vardamir had to help Elrond navigate the door when the ellon just stopped and gaped at it moving all on its own). Inside was pandemonium and Elrond was unsure what was happening. The interior was nearly as bright as day, which surprised him, and there were people running about, though there was no sense of panic as they apparently were preparing for the onslaught of victims. He flinched when a disembodied voice sounded above him calling for someone and wondered if a Maia or Vala were about. Vardamir and Eärnur seemed not to be troubled by it and he could only marvel at their calmness.

Elladan, meanwhile, was calmly speaking to a Woman behind a desk, apparently asking after someone named Kyle, while Elrohir simply waded into the chaos and began issuing orders to others and was instantly obeyed. Elrond felt a rush of paternal pride at seeing his sons in action and the respect they were accorded.

“Let’s get you into scrubs,” Vardamir said. “You don’t want to ruin your clothes. Come with me.”

Elrond allowed himself to be led by the other healer with Eärnur trailing and they left the general area of the waiting room and down a corridor. They entered a large room where Vardamir began rummaging through shelves, pulling garments out and handing them to Eärnur, who showed Elrond how to put them on over his own clothes. Soon, they were all dressed and then they were back outside where they met Elladan coming down the hall.

“Good,” he said in approval when he saw them. “Mir, Kyle’s in surgery at the moment and Randall is with him. Manuela is up on the fifth floor ICU helping out there, so she’s not immediately available.”

“Do we know what happened and how many are involved?” Eärnur asked.

“Yeah. Apparently the brakes failed on the bus,” Elladan replied grimly. “We’ve got something like thirty children being brought in, plus a number of others who were involved. The first victims should be rolling in shortly.”

“Damn!” Vardamir muttered and Eärnur paled.

“Roy’s handling triage at the moment,” Elladan said, “but I’ll need him for other things once they start bringing in the worst cases. Can you two handle the minor injuries while Roy and I deal with the more serious ones? As soon as Kyle is out of surgery, he’ll probably take over, but we don’t know when that will be.”

“What should I do?” Elrond asked.

“Stay with me or Roy for the moment,” Elladan answered. He paused, and Elrond noticed the other three tensing slightly and Elrond heard a strange noise that was getting louder and more strident before being cut off without warning. “They’re bringing in the first victims,” his son said. “I’m going to go scrub up. I’ll see you all shortly.” With that he went into the room the others had just vacated and Vardamir started back up the hall with Eärnur and Elrond trailing.

Back in the admitting area, Elrond saw Elrohir directing the Mortals who were bringing the victims inside, taking a quick look and telling them where to go. Vardamir and Eärnur immediately left him to tend to some of the children.

“Adar!” Elrohir called, motioning for him to join him. “We can’t really let you treat any of the victims, at least not directly, without Kyle’s approval,” he said, speaking Sindarin, “but we’re going to have a lot of frightened children. Could you help with keeping them calm while we attempt to treat them? We’re not going to be able to get to them all immediately. The least injured ones will have to wait while we deal with the worst cases. If you can keep them calm, that will be a great help.”

“Yes, I can do that,” Elrond said, hiding his disappointment at not being able to work beside his sons as they had done so long ago.

Elrohir seemed to know his feelings, for he gave him a sympathetic smile. “I know you would like to do more, but keeping children from becoming hysterical so we can treat them effectively is very important. Adults understand that we’re doing our best to help them, but children, especially the younger ones, will not understand what is happening to them and they will be wanting their nenith and will not necessarily be cooperative. Remember the times when the children of the Dúnedain were brought to us for healing?”

Even as he was speaking, one of the children started screaming and thrashing about when a nurse attempted to put a blood pressure cuff on her.

Elrond gave his son a sardonic look which Elrohir returned. “I’d better go get into scrubs,” his son said and left him. Elrond joined the two nurses attempting to calm the child down, moving to stand at the child’s head where he placed his hand over her eyes and began crooning something soft. A minute later the child’s thrashings slowed and soon she was quiet, not quite asleep but neither was she entirely awake, her screams turning into whimpers and then stilling completely.

One of the nurses blinked up at him. “Thank you,” she said, obviously relieved.

Elrond merely nodded and then looked about. There were a number of children on wheeled beds, most of them crying loudly, obviously frightened, as they waited to be tended to. He suddenly realized that it would be impossible to go to each child individually; there were too many of them, so he moved out of the way, standing against one of the pillars dotting the area. Closing his eyes, he concentrated his will. He no longer had Vilya to augment his power, but it hardly mattered. He had learned much in the intervening ages since he had last lived in Ennorath and so as he gathered his will, he started singing a Song of Power, letting it flow out of him to blanket the room, sending calm and peace throughout. The sounds of weeping began to fade and there was almost an audible sigh of relief as doctors and nurses were able to tend to the children without wasting time trying to keep them calm long enough to treat them.

Elrond kept the singing up for a time, breaking off only when Elrohir came to him, shoving a flimsy cup of some hot, dark and bitter tasting liquid into his hand, telling him to drink. He did, only then becoming aware how very dry his throat was and realizing he had been barely whispering the Song toward the end. With his son was a youngish looking Mortal whom Elrohir introduced as Kyle Stoner. Elrond was surprised to learn that the Man was the head of emergency medicine (he needed to have the term explained) and essentially the second highest ranking doctor in the hospital. He appeared too young for such a grave responsibility. Elrond mentally shook his head at that, suddenly reminded of Estel leaving Imladris to take up his role as Chieftain of the Dúnedain. And looking into Stoner’s eyes, he saw that the Man was not as young as he appeared.

“Thank you for helping out,” Kyle told him. “Roy and Dan are fine doctors and an asset to our community.”

Elrond felt a rush of paternal pride at those words. “I trained them well,” he said. “The children?”

“Most of them are fine, thank God, bruised more than anything,” Kyle said. “We’re keeping them here overnight just in case. There were a few cases that required surgery but we didn’t lose any. And this is just the lull. Others were also injured in the accident. I understand it was a chain reaction. They’re bringing in the next wave of victims now.”

“I’d better make sure the examining rooms are ready,” Elrohir said, nodding to the other two before stepping away.

Kyle gave Elrond a considering look. “We have enough doctors and nurses to handle the injured, but we have no one on hand to deal with the parents of the children or the relatives of the other accident victims. They will be coming in soon enough, distraught and demanding answers. Would you be willing to help with that? I’m having a list of the names of the children drawn up along with room numbers.”

“Except, I have not yet learned to read your language,” Elrond said with a wry smile. “And I speak it poorly.”

“You speak it well enough,” Kyle said. “Well, it was a thought.” He gave him a conspiratorial look. “Maybe you could just sing them all to sleep so we won’t have to deal with them until later.”

Elrond grinned. “I will see what I can do.”

Stoner was about to comment when the doors to the outside opened and several people brought in a gurney with a Woman lying on it. “Code Blue!” someone yelled and Kyle immediately left Elrond and began issuing orders even as he jumped onto the gurney and began massaging the Woman’s heart. The Men pulling the gurney never stopped but continued into one of the examining rooms, a nurse closing the privacy curtain, blocking everyone’s view.

Elrond stood out of the way of everyone feeling helpless, unsure what he should do next. He did not see either of his sons, nor were Vardamir or Eänur in sight. Then, he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see Olórin smiling at him. He was dressed in the odd clothes that were worn by the Mortals of this day. He could not get used to them and had found it strange to see someone like Finrod or Glorfindel or his own sons dressed so plainly and… carelessly.

“You may not be able to read English yet, Elrond, but I can,” the Maia said, and he held up a stiff board on which was attached a sheet of paper. “Liam is here with some of the other police officers. They will direct the parents and others to the conference room where you and I will greet them and assure them that their children are well.”

“Lee… ohm?” Elrond asked, not sure to whom the Maia was referring.

“Liam Prince is the name Thranduilion has chosen for himself,” Olórin said, taking Elrond’s elbow and steering him away from the chaos of the admitting area. “All the Elves have adopted Mortal names, and we Maiar who deal with them have done so as well. Fionwë, for instance, is known as Finn and I go by Oliver whenever I bother to incarnate. Here we are.”

Olórin pushed open a door and switched on the light and Elrond found himself in a large room with a single oval table around which were a number of chairs. There were no windows and one wall had a strange white board, the purpose of which he could not fathom, nor was he given any time to ask, for almost immediately someone entered right behind them and Elrond saw Prince Legolas wearing a strange looking uniform.

“Elrond, Mithrandir, are you ready to speak with the parents?” Legolas asked, addressing them in Sindarin.

“Bring them in, son,” Olórin said and when Elrond turned to him he was momentarily surprised to see that the Maia was now garbed in a long white coat and the instrument that he had seen even his sons using to apparently listen to a person’s heartbeat was stuck in a deep pocket. He had no time to comment for the door opened again and several distraught-looking Mortals entered, their faces pale and their eyes too wide with fear. As soon as they caught sight of the Elf and Maia, they began demanding to see their children.

Olórin held up a hand. “People, please remain calm. Your children are well and are being taken care of. I am Doctor Oliver Grey and this is my assistant… er… Doctor Elrod Ronaldson. If you will kindly give us your names we have a list of the children and to which floor they have been taken.”

The Mortals took a second to glance at Elrond. “You’re an Elf,” one of the Men said.

“Yes,” Elrond replied simply.

“I’d heard some of you were working here,” the Man said with a nod, his expression somewhat belligerent. “Not sure I care for the idea of one of you touching my kid.”

Elrond paled slightly under the Man’s verbal onslaught.

“George, don’t be a fool,” a Woman standing next to the Man said with exasperation. “Would you prefer Janey dying instead?” She turned to Olórin. “Jane Stillman. Our daughter’s name… She… she’s just a baby… and….”

“Crying won’t help matters, Erica,” George Stillman said harshly.

“Your daughter is in ICU,” Olórin said, glancing through the list of names.

“ICU?” George exclaimed. “You said the children were okay.”

“I said the children are well and are being taken care of,” Olórin replied somewhat coldly. “Your daughter was one of the more severely injured, but thanks to Doctor Dan Ronaldson, who, by the way, is the son of Doctor Ronaldson here” — he nodded toward Elrond — “she survived and will eventually recover. Take the yellow elevators to the fifth floor.”

For a brief second, the Stillmans just stood there. Then Erica began pulling on her husband’s arm. “Let’s go, George. Thank you, doctor,” she said politely. “I don’t care who saved my baby, just so long as she’s alive.” She gave her husband a hard look and he appeared suitably chastened as the two exited.

Olórin turned to the next couple. “Name?” he asked.

One-by-one, the parents gave their names and Olórin, consulting the pad, told them where they could find their children. Eventually the room emptied out. The Maia actually breathed a sigh of relief. Elrond gave him a brittle smile. “Elrod Ronaldson?”

Olórin grinned unrepentently. “If you intend to stay here you’ll need to adopt a mortal name, my friend. Your sons already have chosen ‘Ronaldson’ as their surname. Elrod is a name taken from an earlier form of English and means ‘nobel counsel’. These days you’re more likely to hear it used as a surname in certain regions of the country, but it’s a common practice in this culture for parents to give a child a surname as a given name so no one will think it strange.”

“I do not know why I am even here,” Elrond said, deciding he did not wish to pursue the matter of names at the moment. “You were quite capable of handling them all on their own.”

“Perhaps,” Olórin said with a shrug, “but your presence served a different purpose.”

Elrond frowned. “I do not understand.”

“No, of course not, nor would I expect you to,” the Maia said and handed Elrond another of the flimsy cups full of the bitter dark liquid that had appeared in his hand. Elrond accepted it with a nod and carefully took a sip, grimacing slightly at the taste. “Most of those parents have had little or no contact with the Elves,” Olórin said, “since they do not run in the same, shall we say, social circles. Wiseman is just large enough that most of its citizens have never actually met any of the Elves, though they have seen them around town. Seeing you and hearing that other Elves have been helping to treat their children may, and I stress that, may help some of them decide for you and not against you when they vote next week for who they want as mayor, particularly the Stillmans.”

It took Elrond a second to recall the first couple and the belligerence of the Man. “They are important?” he asked.

Olórin nodded. “George Stillman is the president of the college and technically Glorfindel’s superior. He is also somewhat antagonistic toward the Elves. He is not in the camp of naysayers that are totally opposed to their presence, but he has not been all that cooperative. He would like nothing better than to see Glorfindel ousted as the head of Elf Academy. He feels that the school should remain firmly in the hands of the Mortals. Perhaps, knowing that his own child’s life was saved by an Elf will help him see things differently.”

Elrond frowned. “The Valar warned us that the situation here was somewhat volatile and that we must walk carefully.”

“Yes. Certain events have occurred recently that make what is a precarious situation even more precarious. Personally, while I understand you and the others wanting to be here for the wedding, I am not sanguine about it. There is too much that can potentially go wrong and as Glorfindel pointed out, you are all prime hostage material should the Enemy decide to attack while you are here.”

“Yet, you Maiar are here to protect us, are you not?”

“No, Elrond. That is not our purview. If we were not permitted to keep Glorfindel from being attacked, what makes you think you or anyone else in your party is exempt from harm. Battle lines are being drawn and people are declaring their allegiances. If you or anyone else happen to be in the line of fire of your own free will, knowing that there is danger, there is little any of us can do, save to possibly mitigate the damage, just as we were able to inspire Glorfindel’s attackers not to kill him outright but leave him for dead. And he would have died had we not also inspired the Mortal who eventually found him to go out of his way to check the dumpster where Glorfindel lay rather than return home as was his original desire, for the night was cold and he was not warmly dressed.”

Elrond stared at him in shock. “What do you mean? When—?”

“You will have to learn the story from others, my friend,” Olórin said. “Right now, we should return to the waiting room. Come.”

With that Olórin headed for the door and exited the room. After a brief hesitation, Elrond followed and the two made their way back to the admitting area where they found a number of people standing about. A couple of them had strange objects riding on their shoulders, and there were brightly lit lamps shining upon a podium that had been set up in one corner. One or two others held something before them and there were momentary bright flashes of light, though no one seemed unduly fazed by them. He saw Kyle Stoner standing before the podium facing the crowd of people and to his surprise his sons were also there on either side of the Mortal. Just as he and Olórin came in, they saw Stoner was speaking.

“… thirty-two children plus the driver. About a dozen others were involved in the subsequent chain reaction. All victims have been treated and there were no fatalities, thanks in part to the Elven members of our staff. I called in our off-duty personnel to help with the crisis and the Elves were the first to arrive. I would like to especially thank Doctors Dan and Roy Ronaldson for their help. When word reached us about the accident, I was about to go into surgery, so I was not immediately available to supervise. The Doctors Ronaldson ably took over triage and saw to it that everyone was on task.”

A Woman standing with the crowd raised her hand and Stoner acknowledged her.

“Are these Elves allowed to treat patients? They’re not real doctors, are they?”

Stoner turned to Elladan, giving him a nod and moving back slightly to allow the Elf room to step up to the podium and speak. “All the healers presently working here at St. Luke’s are certified to the same degree as an EMT or a nurse practitioner and are capable of treating minor injuries. My brother and I, however, are actual board-certified doctors. We attended Columbia University Medical School and did our residency at John Hopkins. You can check the records, though you would have to go back to nineteen-fifty-seven to find them and I’m not sure if they’ve been digitized yet.”

There was a long pause as the Mortals took a moment to come to terms with what Elladan had told them. Elladan merely gave them a smile and stepped back to allow Stoner access to the podium again.

“If there are no further questions, we have rounds to make,” Stoner said. “Thank you for your attention.”

With that, he and the Twins stepped away from the podium. Almost at once, a number of people started shouting out questions, attempting to follow them, but police were on hand to block their way so that Stoner and Elrond’s sons were not importuned. Stoner saw Elrond and Olórin and smiled, gesturing for them to follow him. Elrond gave his sons a paternal smile as the five of them headed away from the admitting area and toward a bank of elevators with green doors.

“Thank you for your help again, sir,” Stoner said to Elrond as they stopped before the elevators. He pressed the UP button.

“I was glad to be of assistance even if I was not permitted to treat any of the children or adults.”

“Your son was stretching the truth a bit with regards to the other healers being certified,” Stoner said, “but in actuality, they are almost ready to take the boards and be certified in truth. However, the rest of Wiseman doesn’t need to know that. They only need to know that you people were there helping and because of it, some of those children who were the most severely injured are alive. At least two that I know of could well have died of their injuries if it hadn’t been for your sons or the other Elves.” He glanced at Olórin, giving him a wry look. “And who are you, exactly?”

Olórin laughed. “I am Olórin of the People of Manwë, but in this guise, I go by the name of Doctor Oliver Grey.”

Stoner nodded. “Well, I’m glad you were here to help as well. Dan, Roy, I know you, Mir and Ernest are not scheduled to be on duty until tomorrow, but would you mind sticking around for a little while longer, say for an hour or so until we get everything squared away?”

“Sure, not a problem,” Elladan answered for them all. The elevator doors opened to reveal a couple of people who stepped out before they stepped in. Elrond was not sure about it, but allowed Olórin to lead him in. He forced himself not to react when the doors closed and he felt motion, his stomach doing a strange flip and there was a momentary sense of queasiness. “I’ll call Loren and let him know,” Elladan was saying, absolutely unconcerned by the movement of the elevator and that steadied Elrond. “He said he would arrange for transportation for us back to Edhellond as he doesn’t want us walking back.”

“Good idea. So, Roy, shouldn’t there be a bachelor’s party or something for you?” Stoner gave Elrond’s younger son a leer.

Elrohir laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you, Kyle, but no bachelor’s party is forthcoming. We don’t follow that particular custom, and frankly I never saw the point.”

Kyle gave him a surprised look. “But the point is that it’s a party. What other reason do you need? Besides, once you put on that ball-and-chain, do you think Sarah’s going to let you run wild and free? Don’t bet on it.”

Elrohir laughed again and his brother grinned. “I’m sure Sarah will let him out once in a while,” Elladan said.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened and all of them stepped out except Stoner who had one finger on one of the buttons to keep the door open. “Okay, I need to track down Geoff and give him an update on the situation,” he said, all levity aside. “You two want to check on ICU? We have seven people there, two of them children.”

Elrond’s sons both nodded. “Not a problem, Kyle. We’ll catch you later.”

Stoner nodded. “Nice to meet you, sir,” he said and then he released the button and the door closed. Elladan was pulling out a flat instrument from a pocket and pressing it to his ear. “Hey, Loren, it’s Dan… yeah, it was a bit hairy for a while but everything’s under control. We’re going to be here for a little while longer, maybe another hour or so… Yeah, sure. Thanks… Okay. Catch you later.” He pushed the object into his pocket. “Loren’s going to have Barry bring the van over. He’ll wait for us. I’ll let Mir and Ernest know. Randall and Manuela still have to finish their shift.”

“That’s got to be boring for Barry though,” Elrohir said as they headed away from the elevators, “especially when everyone else will be at the encampment visiting.”

“I’ll keep him company,” Olórin said with a smile. “You certainly don’t need me around to help.” With that he gave them a nod and then simply wasn’t there.

Elladan shrugged and took Elrond’s right elbow. “C’mon, Ada. We’ll check out the patients in ICU and then go get something to eat.”

Elrond nodded and followed his sons, suddenly aware of the reversal of roles. He remembered how his sons as elflings had followed him around as he taught them the rudiments of the healing arts. Now, it was he following them. Somehow, he didn’t seem to mind it, feeling nothing but pride at their easy competence as they went about their tasks and the respect that the Mortals accorded them. If for no other reason than to see them thus, Elrond was glad that he had come back to these mortal shores once more.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he might be able to persuade the Valar to allow him and Celebrían to remain. Too long had they been separated from their sons and he did not wish to be separated from them ever again.

****

Nenith: (Sindarin) Plural of naneth: Mother.