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Elf Academy 3: The Enemy Within  by Fiondil

104: Descent into Darkness

Warning: for disturbing images (though nothing graphically described) relating to Alex’s confrontation with the Russian, Ilyivitch, mentioned in chapter 97.

****

Elrond watched Elladan as his son gently readjusted the blankets over his brother and soon-to-be sister as they continued to sleep on, then he did the same thing for Gareth and Nielluin. None of the sleepers stirred. When Elladan returned to his chair, Celebrían smiled at him.

“Are you not tired, my son?” she asked, speaking in Sindarin. “Your adar and I will gladly watch over you all.”

Elladan smiled at her, lifting one of her hands and gently kissing it. “I’m not tired, Nana,” he assured her. “I will sleep later. Right now I am enjoying being with you and Ada.”

“Why did you feel the need to… ah… dance as you did and to Mortal music?” Elrond asked.

“I sense disapproval,” Elladan retorted mildly. “Do you disapprove of my dancing or the music?”

“I neither approve nor disapprove, Elladan,” Elrond replied gravely. “I merely wish to understand. You and Elrohir are… so different from what I remember.”

“What we both remember,” Celebrían added. “I see the shadows behind your eyes, shadows that were not there before and it saddens me that your joy has been so dimmed.”

“I would say tempered rather than dimmed,” Elladan protested. “It is hard to maintain one’s innocence and joy in the face of crushing pain and horror, and Roy and I have seen our fair share of it down the long ages. What happened to you, Nana, was the beginning for us.”

“And for that I apologize,” Celebrían said.

Elladan gave her a surprised look. “It wasn’t your fault! You cannot blame yourself for what Roy and I did or how we chose to do it. Now, do you think we can talk about something else?”

“You still have not answered my question,” Elrond said mildly.

Elladan shrugged. “I have lived among the Mortals for longer than I ever lived in Imladris. I have listened to their music and learned their dances and I find that dancing helps me to burn off frustration and Mortal music in all its varied forms and moods provides me with the release I need whenever things get tough.” He cast them a sly grin. “Besides, Loren won’t let either one of us engage in sword fights without proper supervision. It’s easier to shove a CD into the boombox and dance.”

Both Elrond and Celebrían shook their heads. “I cannot get used to you referring to Lord Glorfindel with such an absurd sounding name,” Celebrían said, “and calling yourself Dan and your brother Roy.”

Elladan shrugged. “We’ve all adopted different names to better blend into whatever Mortal culture we happen to find ourselves. When we lived among the Babylonians, for instance, I went by Amar-Sin and Roy was Naram-Sin. The god Sin was the Moon god in their cosmology. We thought it appropriate. We would jest that Tilion would find it amusing that we named ourselves after him, sort of. Roy used to wave at Ithil whenever he was full and call out ‘Mae govannen, Adar Sin’.” He chuckled at the memory.

“And Glorfindel? What name did he choose?” Elrond asked, refraining from rolling his eyes. Celebrían just raised an amused eyebrow, glancing fondly at her still sleeping second-born.

“Gishbilgamesh.”

“Rather a mouthful,” Elrond commented with a wry look.

Elladan shrugged. “It is what it is and our names have changed so many times down the long ages, I no longer keep count.”

“How long have you and your brother been Dan and Roy?”

“About three hundred years, give or take a decade,” Elladan replied. “Formally, we’re Daniel and Royston Ronaldson. The names are not so rare or unique that if anyone were to come across them in historical records they will simply assume that we were named after our ancestors, which is a common custom among the Mortals and certain names get passed down within the family. It would never occur to anyone that we would be one and the same people. Same with Loren and Darren and the others.”

For a while the three sat in silence as Elrond and Celebrían contemplated their son’s words.

“Your nana and I would like you and Elrohir and Serindë to return with us,” Elrond finally said, not looking at his son.

Elladan shook his head. “I would like that, as would Roy, but I fear our destinies lie here in Ennorath. We have invested too much of ourselves in this project the Belain have going here. Roy and Sarah and I will actually be leaving Wiseman for the East Coast next month to begin our surgical studies. We will be gone for about a year.”

Celebrían reached over and kissed him on the temple. “I’ve missed you both so much. I do not think I could bear being separated from you again.”

“I know,” Elladan said gently, returning her kiss with one of his own. “We missed you as well, both of you, but you must understand: this is our home, our lives. We are genuinely happy here.”

“Even though Elrohir is to marry and you are not?” Elrond retorted somewhat skeptically.

His son shrugged. “I was the one who pushed him into finally acknowledging his feelings for Sarah. I do not regret that. If it is my fate to remain alone, then so be it. And no, I will not consider returning to Valinor just on the off-chance that whichever of the ellith you are already plotting to throw at me will win my fancy and my love.” He gave them a knowing smile. Celebrían returned his smile with a sniff that was only half-feigned.

“We would never throw them at you, my son,” Elrond responded solemnly, though his eyes glittered with amusement. “We would simply push them in your general direction and hope at least one of them trips and falls into your arms.”

Elladan threw back his head and laughed. The sleepers stirred somewhat at the sound and he stifled his laughter, giving his parents an apologetic look. Elrond stood and went to each sleeper and touched them briefly, sending them deeper into sleep, before resuming his seat. Elladan gave him a considering look.

“You’ll have to teach me that trick before you leave,” he said.

“And if we elect not to leave?” Elrond asked.

Elladan went still. “Do you think the Belain would permit it?”

“They have not actually said that we must return, only that my adar will return for us on a particular day.”

“Do you want to stay?” Elladan asked.

“The question is, do you want us to stay, you and Elrohir?” Elrond shot back.

For a moment, Elladan did not speak, gazing down at his sleeping brother and Serindë. Finally, though, he looked up and said, “I cannot speak for Roy, though I suspect his answer will be the same as mine: I would like very much for you both to stay.”

“That’s all we needed to hear,” Elrond said, smiling.

They continued sitting in companionable silence for a time before Elladan ventured a question, asking about the three kings and his parents spent some time describing them and their personalities.

“Ingwë is one of the oldest of us, being among one of the one-hundred forty-four who woke first in Cuiviénen,” Elrond said, “and he has ruled us wisely and well for all the time in which Elves have existed.”

“Glorfindel always spoke highly of him whenever he felt inclined to speak of him or anyone else from Valinor,” Elladan said.

“The two seem to have a special relationship,” Elrond said with a nod. “Almost before I had a chance to give him my greetings when I met him, he was asking after Glorfindel, sounding very much the anxious parent, demanding I tell him every little detail of Glorfindel’s life and doings. It surprised me, at first, though it really shouldn’t have. Glorfindel is… special.”

“Yes, he is.”

The three rose almost as one as Ingwë stepped inside, waving them back to their seats. He glanced at the sleepers, snorting slightly in amusement at the sight. Then he turned to the three watchers. “I’ve ordered the cooks to begin making breakfast. Do you have any plans?” This was directed at Elladan who shook his head.

“Normally, Roy and I would be at the hospital on duty, but Kyle, who is in charge of our training, told us not to bother coming in until after the wedding. I was telling Ada and Nana that Roy, Sarah and I will be heading for New York City in a month’s time. We’ll be away for most of the next year.”

“And that is a month from now. Today, some of us would like to visit with the Mortals and see something of Wiseman. Glorfindel says he can only be with us for a while.”

Elladan nodded. “He has administrative meetings he can’t get out of, he and Daeron, both. We’re in the process of determining how many students we will have for the next class and who we will ask to join us. These decisions need to be made now so people can make appropriate plans to come.”

Ingwë nodded his understanding as he took a seat, the same one from the night before. Someone came in just then and handed him a goblet of what must have been a spiced wine, for Elladan could see steam rising from it. Ingwë thanked the servant and the ellon bowed and left. Ingwë took an appreciative sip or two before speaking.

“Arafinwë, Olwë and I are very much interested in the workings of the Mortal government. Glorfindel and Daeron attempted to explain it to us, but I confess I find the concept of this democracy rather confusing.”

Elladan shrugged. “Historically speaking, democratic governments are a fairly recent development among the Mortals, though the concept goes back some three thousand years. It isn’t a perfect system, but it works more than it doesn’t and has done so for the last two hundred thirty-odd years in spite of a civil war that nearly destroyed the Union and assassinations of their leaders, the last one not even fifty years ago. It’s really no better or worse than your own brand of monarchy, just a different style of governing.”

“You do not approve of my style of governing,” Ingwë said, making it a statement.

Elladan raised an eyebrow in surprise. “I neither approve nor disapprove. Can you even comprehend the number of different types of governments I have lived through? Most were monarchical in one form or another, but not all and some of the monarchies were oppressive and dictatorial and people walked warily and in fear for their lives and the lives of their loved ones. For all its faults, the democratic government enjoyed by the Mortals and us in this particular country is enlightened and the law-abiding citizen has no need to feel afraid that the authorities will come banging on their doors in the middle of the night and drag them away to torture and death. That cannot be said for all Mortal nations even today.”

Silence hung between them for a time and then Gareth began stirring and, sitting up, blinked blearily at them. “Ah… good morning?”

They all smiled. “Good morning,” Ingwë said. “If you step outside, one of the servants will direct you to where you may refresh yourself.”

“Uh… yeah, thanks.” Gareth glanced down at the still sleeping Nielluin and bent down to kiss her lightly on the forehead, well aware of everyone watching, before he climbed to his feet. He gently replaced his blanket over the elleth, then, giving them a slight bow, he left.

Serindë and Nielluin woke almost at the same time and Celebrían offered to take them to her and Elrond’s pavilion where they could freshen up, thus leaving the three ellyn alone with the still sleeping Elrohir. Serindë kissed her fiancé lightly on the lips before rising and joining Nielluin in following Celebrían. Gareth came back shortly afterwards, politely waving away the goblet of spiced wine that was offered to him.

“Coffee,” he muttered. “Lots of it.”

Elladan chuckled. “We should have called in for an order. Maybe when sleepyhead here wakes up we can run over to Edhellond and grab some. I want a shower, as well.”

“Tell me about it,” Gareth said with some feeling. “Time was, I could’ve gone from one end of the week to the next with barely washing my face. Now, I can’t let a day go by without taking a shower even if I don’t really need one.”

“We’re spoiled and all this soft living will do us in,” Elladan said cheerfully.

Gareth was about to say something when a phone went off. Almost automatically, Elladan and Gareth checked theirs but it was actually Elrohir’s phone that was ringing and the ellon was sleepily pulling it out of a pocket, his eyes only half opened. “Yes?” he muttered into the phone. “This had better be good. I was still sleeping.” He listened for a moment and then he was sitting up straight completely wide awake. “Slow down, Derek…When?... Okay, look I’m at the encampment. Have you tried Ron or Loren?... Call them… Dan and I are on our way. In the meantime, don’t let him out of your sight... Fifteen minutes.” He shut down the phone and clambered to his feet. “It’s Alex,” he explained. “He’s having an episode.”’

“Why didn’t Derek call Ron?” Elladan asked as he stood.

“He says he meant to but in his panic he pressed the wrong button and got me instead.” He glanced around. “Where’s Sarah?”

“Your nana is taking care of her,” Elrond said, also rising. “What is wrong with Alex?”

“Too complicated to explain, but we need to get over there,” Elrohir said. “Derek is not capable of handling him on his own.”

“Would you like me to accompany you?” Elrond asked.

Elladan shook his head. “Alex will barely tolerate us being there. I do not think he will appreciate having a complete stranger seeing him in this state.”

“Understandable. Go,” Ingwë said. “Perhaps later you will explain what is wrong with him. I liked what I saw yesterday and it would grieve me if anything untoward happens to him before he and I can become better acquainted.”

“We’ll tell you what we can,” Elrohir promised. “Let’s go, Brother.” The two gave Ingwë bows and then fairly ran out of the pavilion while the others watched them go.

“I think I’ll head over to Edhellond,” Gareth said after a moment. “I want a change of clothes and some coffee. I can tell them about Alex while I’m there. I hope he’s all right. We were supposed to get together tonight for dinner.”

“I am sure he will be fine,” Elrond said soothingly. “He is in the best of care with my sons.”

Gareth nodded. “Let Nell know where I’ve gone, will you?” Then he left, leaving the High King and Elrond to themselves.

****

Elladan and Elrohir reached Alex and Derek’s apartment building almost at the same time as Vorondur, who pulled into the parking lot and found a place to park even as the Twins were jogging up. Amroth was with him. They did not bother with greetings as they raced inside and pounded up the stairs to the apartment. Vorondur knocked on the door.

“Derek, it’s Ron,” he shouted.

“It’s open,” they heard Derek cry out and when Vorondur tried the door he found it unlocked.

The four went in to find Alex crouched in a corner of the living room, snarling something in a foreign language, while Derek stood in front of him, evidently blocking his route. He turned, giving them a relieved look, but he was sporting a bruised lip and holding a hand over his ribs. Elrohir immediately went to check Derek out while Elladan and Vorondur looked on. Amroth crouched down in front of Alex listening to what the Man was saying in harsh whispers, paying no attention to them, his eyes glazed over as if he were in a trance or seeing something that wasn’t there.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Vorondur asked, clapping a hand on Derek’s shoulder though his attention was solely on Alex.

“All I know for sure is that I woke from a sound sleep with him screaming something that sounded Russian,” Derek said. “When I got to his room he charged me and we had a bit of a tussle. Bruised a rib, I think.”

“More like cracked it,” Elrohir said with authority. “We’ll get it taped up.”

“Later,” Derek said dismissively. “Anyway he ended up in this corner and that’s when I tried to call you, Ron, and ended up calling Roy instead. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” Elrohir said. “We’re glad to be here to help.”

“Do you know what he’s saying, Ryan?” Vorondur asked.

Amroth raised a hand, never taking his eyes off of Alex, then spoke to him in Russian. At first, Alex did not respond, but when Amroth again said something in Russian, speaking more forcibly, he focused at him, his eyes clearing and then they seemed to recognize Amroth, giving him a startled look. He glanced up at the others, his gaze settling on Derek and his expression turned to one of horror as he started crying, settling onto the floor, putting his hands to his mouth.

“Ohgodohgodohgod,” he said over and over.

“Stop that, Merriwether!” Amroth commanded sharply.

At the sound of his old name, Alex ceased, but now he hugged himself and began rocking back and forth. Amroth’s expression saddened and he glanced up at Vorondur. “I think this is where you come in.”

Vorondur nodded, holding a hand out for Amroth to take, which he did, rising gracefully to his feet. “What was he saying?”

“He was apparently reliving a conversation he had with Ilyivitch just before he put a bullet in the Man’s head. I am guessing that mentioning the Kremlin and all earlier helped trigger this episode.”

“Yeah, but he’s been acting strange all week,” Derek said. “I’ve been hesitating telling you, Ron, because I don’t want to be cast as the bad guy in Alex’s mind. He needs at least one friend who doesn’t treat him as if he were a leper or something because of his past.”

“And you did rightly,” Vorondur assured him. “I knew you were worried about him for some reason and I was planning to address it at our session this afternoon, but, as usual, Alex has jumped the gun and I think the wizard is now in.” He cast a rueful look at Amroth, who just snorted in amusement.

“Derek, I want to take you over to St. Luke’s and get an X-ray,” Elrohir said.

“I’d better call Marty then and tell him I’m going to be late,” Derek said.

“Why don’t you do that on the way to the hospital?” Amroth said. “I’ll give you a lift and then bring you back here. By then, maybe Alex will be a little calmer.”

“Let me go get my phone and stuff. Damn! I’m still in my slippers.”

“I’ll help you put on your shoes,” Elrohir said and took him by the arm and helped him to his bedroom.

Vorondur fished out his car keys and handed them to Amroth, while Elladan stepped briefly into the kitchen and came back a minute later with a glass of water, which he handed to Vorondur with a nod at Alex, saying, “The coffeemaker automatically turned on, so there’s coffee if you want some. Might help bring Alex around.”

“Thanks,” Vorondur said, then he crouched down before Alex and proffered the water. “C’mon, Alex. Drink this, it should help,” he said soothingly and after a moment’s hesitation, Alex took the glass and sipped the water. “All the way, son,” Vorondur said.

Derek and Elrohir returned from the bedroom, Derek moving slowly and grimacing with pain. “I’m not sure if I can make it down the stairs,” he muttered.

“If necessary, Dan and I will carry you so you are not jostled. We’ll take it at your pace. There’s no rush.”

Elladan moved to walk on Derek’s other side and Amroth went to open the door for them and then Vorondur was alone with Alex who stayed seated against the wall. He had finished drinking the water and seemed somewhat calmer, but his eyes were dull and apathetic and his expression was one of defeat.

Vorondur stood. “Well, I don’t know about you,” he said briskly, “but I’m dying for a cup of coffee. I’ve been up all night dealing with my sons and now this.”

There was a glimmer of something in Alex’s eyes and he looked up at him. “Sons?” he whispered.

Vorondur nodded. “Didn’t get a chance to introduce you earlier, but yes, two of those who came with the kings are my sons, Dar and Cani. They’re Reborn and they were upset.”

“What were they upset about?” Alex asked, curious, in spite of himself.

Vorondur put out a hand and after a moment of hesitation, Alex took it and allowed himself to be pull to his feet. “It appears that Lord Manwë knows his Reborn. He exacted an oath from them that they were not to run away and hide while they were here. They had been planning to do so, you see, for they wanted to stay here with us rather than go back to Valinor.”

Alex gave him a skeptical look. “How old did you say they were?”

Vorondur chuckled. “Let’s go into the kitchen and have some coffee and we’ll talk about it.”

He headed into the kitchen and Alex followed. “Mugs are in the cupboard to your right,” he said and Vorondur, having found the mugs, took two and poured some coffee, handing one to Alex who had taken a seat at the table. Vorondur sat in the other chair.

“Ryan says you were having a conversation with this Ilyivitch person you mentioned earlier.”

Alex’s expression darkened. “When I got to his office, which was locked from the inside, by the way, I found him with a child doing things to him that no one has the right to do to anyone, least of all a ten-year-old boy. Ilyivitch was naturally upset at having his fun and games interrupted but he then tried to… entice me to join him, promising all sorts of riches if I didn’t kill him. He said, and I quote, ‘Afterwards, we can use your gun to dispose of the boy’.”

Vorondur muttered something in Quenya, his expression one of shock. Alex gave him a sardonic look. “I looked down at the child who lay there in uncomprehending terror, whimpering. Ilyivitch struck him hard and warned him about making any noise. Apparently he liked torturing his victims if they made any sound while he was doing things to them.”

“Eru save us,” Vorondur whispered, too shocked to maintain any kind of composure.

“He did,” Alex said without any levity. “He sent me. I… played along with Ilyivitch, even going so far as to ask him what he suggested we do with the body once we were done with the boy. Bastard blithely told me where all the other bodies of missing children were hidden. Once I ascertained their location, I shot him point-blank between the eyes. His expression would have been amusing if it hadn’t been so evil at the same time.” He paused, closing his eyes and taking a sip of his coffee before continuing. “It took me the devil’s own time to convince the boy that I was there to save him, but eventually he let me dress him and then I needed to sneak him out. Getting in had been no problem, and if I were alone, getting out would’ve been a snap, but I had the boy to consider, plus, I needed to complete the second half of my mission.”

“Which was?”

“Finding the bodies of the other children Ilyivitch murdered, but it wasn’t a place I wanted to take little Sergei, that’s the boy’s name, and even so, I couldn’t reach the place towing him along without others noticing.”

“So what did you end up doing?”

“I made an executive decision, as they say,” Alex replied. “I decided the bodies weren’t going anywhere and there was precious little I could do for them, but Sergei was still alive and he was important, so I scratched the mission at that point and spent the next three hours sneaking the two of us out of the Kremlin. Keep in mind that it took me only about twenty minutes to get in and find Ilyivitch’s office.”

“A nightmare,” Vorondur said with an understanding nod.

“That’s putting it mildly, but in the end, I got the boy out, got him to the American embassy where the ambassador raised hell. I ended up knocking him out, then holding him at gunpoint while his flunkies rustled up an American passport for the kid and made arrangements for us to leave on a diplomatic shuttle.” He gave Vorondur a sour grin. “Agency wasn’t too happy with me when they found out. I told Director Dolan where she could stuff her reprimand. After that, I refused all assignments, even intimating that I was ready to leave the Agency and spent the next six weeks with Sergei, arranging for him to be adopted by a fellow agent, Martin Benjamin, and his wife, Gail. Then Maddie came to me with an offer to infiltrate home-grown terrorist cells and the rest, as they say, is history.”

“And the other children?”

“I gave the Agency the information on their location and someone informed the Russian authorities. End of story.” He shrugged, taking a sip of coffee.

“Apparently not, if this morning is any indication,” Vorondur said shrewdly.

Alex sighed and shook his head, not looking up at Vorondur. “In my own way, I am as evil, if not more so, as Ilyivitch.”

“Why do you say that?” Vorondur asked as he drank his coffee.

Alex looked up and his expression was hard and cold and Vorondur saw in his eyes the killer that he was and perhaps always would be, but he did not flinch from the sight. “When I said I played along with Ilyivitch, I meant just that. Oh, I didn’t do anything to the boy. I’m not that craven, but I allowed Ilyivitch to continue with his games for a bit.”

“Will you tell me why?” Vorondur asked, keeping his tone neutral, though he was feeling sick inside as he watched the Mortal drink his coffee.

“I needed information,” Alex answered. “I needed Ilyivitch to tell me where he had hidden the bodies of the other children and I needed to know who his… providers were. He certainly wasn’t working alone. Killing him was secondary to finding the bodies, because his providers made the mistake of snatching the daughter of a Belgian diplomat. The Russians wouldn’t get involved, saying they couldn’t track down every runaway, as they claimed she was. God, Ron, the kid was six! Ilyivitch liked his victims young. Anyway, as I was already in Kiev, the Agency sent me on to Moscow.”

He stopped, his right hand clenched until the knuckles were white. “I stood there and let the bastard have his way with the boy and I was both sickened and aroused by it all. I could have simply stopped it, forced him to tell me, but I didn’t, I let him go on, pretending to be interested in joining him in his sick little games and all the while pumping him for the information I needed. There was a point when Ilyivitch’s back was to me but I could see the boy and he could see me. He was so frightened listening to us calmly discussing disposing of his body when we were done with him. I put my finger to my lips and then mimed pointing a gun at the back of Ilyivitch’s head and pulling the trigger.”

“You said you shot him between the eyes.”

“Yes, I did. As soon as I got what I needed to know, I pulled that monster off the boy, whipped out my gun and placed it directly between his eyes. He looked startled but not necessarily afraid and I could see the cunning in his eyes. I suspect he was going to try to convince me not to kill him. I didn’t give him time to speak, though, as I wasn’t interested in hearing anything he had to say. I said to him, ‘Sorry, Comrade, but the fun and games are over with. See you in hell’. And then I shot him.”

For a long moment neither one spoke. Alex stared into his mug while Vorondur contemplated all that he had learned, putting other pieces together and coming to certain conclusions. “What about Sergei? What does he think about you?”

Alex looked up in surprise and then his expression became almost shy. “He calls me Uncle Gordy,” he said softly.

“And that should tell you something right there,” Vorondur said. When Alex gave him a puzzled look he went on. “Alex, I doubt that Sergei warmed to you immediately.”

The Mortal snorted in derision. “That’s putting it mildly, but by the time we were flying over the Atlantic, he was willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. I made sure he was given a full medical exam before we left and I arranged for one of the few company shrinks I actually respected to meet us at Dulles Airport upon our arrival. She pretty much took over for me, but I insisted that Sergei remain with me, giving him the guest room in my apartment, showing him how he could lock the door if he wished. I think that little gesture alone convinced him that I was on his side. So what’s your point?”

“You just made it,” Vorondur said with a slight smile. “By rights, that boy should have hated you, fought with you, even run away from you, but he didn’t, though I suspect like any child he had his tantrums. In the end, though, he calls you Uncle Gordy, which means he considers you family. I’m sure you did not earn his trust overnight, but earned it you did. Did you explain to him why you did what you did?”

“Yeah, while we were hiding in a broom closet waiting for the changing of the guards. I explained about the other children and what my assignment was. Funny.”

“What is?”

“I just realized, until I explained myself, he did fight me, tried to run away, but as soon as I told him the whole story, he never once argued with me but did exactly as I told him. Odd that.”

“Not so odd. You treated him as you would have treated an adult in that same situation, explaining your motives. I assume you also apologized to him.”

“Of course I did. What do you take me for?”

“I take you for someone who has been forced to commit evil in order to combat greater evils,” Vorondur explained calmly. “Your feelings of being sickened and aroused at the same time are normal physical reactions, very similar to when one is in a combat situation, especially when one is fighting with swords. There is a sick exaltation that accompanies the act of slaying your enemies before you. Trust me, your feelings are neither unique nor unexpected given the circumstances. The difference between you and Ilyivitch is that you did not succumb to your baser desires. You are not a monster, Alex. Royally screwed up, I grant you, but a monster? No. I know of monsters. I’ve fought them and you are not even close to being one of them.”

“Even so…”

“Even so, you obviously feel that you could have done things differently instead of prolonging Sergei’s agony, but that’s hindsight. You acted as you felt you needed to in order to learn of the location of the other children. If you had threatened Ilyivitch right off, there would be no guarantee that he would tell you the truth. He would know you would not let him live and lying to you about the children would be his final revenge. And perhaps, subconsciously, you realized this and therefore decided to ‘play along’ as you say to gain his trust. I am assuming he told you the truth.”

“Yes, so I heard. It was quite the scandal when it got out.”

“And Sergei obviously forgave you. Now it’s time to forgive yourself.”

Alex shook his head. “Easier said than done.”

“Perhaps, but isn’t that what it’s all about? It took me more centuries than I want to contemplate to finally forgive myself for what I did after Cani died, so I know it isn’t easy, but it’s worth it, and I promise I will be there every step of the way. You’re not alone in this, Alex. You never have been.”

Alex nodded and started to say something but the front door opened and it was Derek along with the Twins and Amroth. Alex stood and went to his gwador. “Oh, God, Derek. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s cool, mate,” Derek assured him. “What about you? How are you doing?”

Alex shrugged. “Better, I guess.”

“What’s the damage?” Vorondur asked the Twins as he also stood up.

“A couple of cracked ribs and contusions but nothing major,” Elladan answered with a shrug. “We’ve given him some pain meds and he’s on sick leave for the next week or so, otherwise, he’ll live. Now, if you’ll excuse us all, Roy and I haven’t even had a shower yet, let alone breakfast. We’ll see you all later.”

“Thanks, guys,” Derek said. “I’m glad I pressed the wrong button on my phone.”

“So are we,” Elrohir said. “You need us, call us. Don’t forget you have an appointment next Friday at the hospital. I’m afraid you’re not going to be doing any dancing at the wedding.”

“Not a problem. I’ll just sit in a corner and tap my feet,” Derek said. “See you later.”

The Twins wished everyone a good morning and then left. Vorondur gave Alex a searching look. “If you want to continue our discussion later we can keep our original appointment.”

“Maybe we should,” Alex said. Then he turned to Derek. “Will you be up to dinner with Gwyn and Gareth?”

“You bet, but I think I’m going to go lie down for a while.”

“Best thing for you, son,” Amroth said.

“We’ll see you later, then,” Vorondur said and then he and Amroth were gone.

Alex gave Derek an embarrassed look. “I’m sorry. I am so screwed up.”

“You and the rest of the world,” Derek said amiably. “Now, stop with the breast beating and let’s have some breakfast and then I’ll take a nap.”

“You bet. What’s your pleasure, sir?” Alex asked as they went into the kitchen and he helped Derek to sit.

“Well, now, since you’re asking, how about a Delmonico steak, medium please, and a cheese and mushroom omelet and…”

“Bran flakes and bagels, okay?” Alex interjected with a smile.

Derek nodded. “Yeah, that’ll do.”

“Coming right up.”

****

Note: The names Elladan mention are actual names taken from Babylonian and Sumerian history:

Amar-Sin: ‘Seen by [the god] Sin’; the name of the third ruler of Sumer’s Third Dynasty of Ur (2047-2038 BCE). Known as Amraphel in the Bible (Genesis 14), from Amar-Pal, an alternate reading of the king’s name.

Naram-Sin: ‘Favored by [the god] Sin’; a grandson of Sargon I, the founder of the Akkadian Empire, and king of Akkad from 2260-2223 BCE. At his death in battle, the Akkadian capital, Agade, was destroyed so completely by its enemies that it has never been found.

Gishbilgamesh: ‘Firebrand Offspring’; the original name of the Sumerian/Babylonian hero-king Gilgamesh. He was king of the Sumerian city-state Uruk (biblical Erech) circa 2900 BCE. Known primarily from the Epic of Gilgamesh, he is also listed in the chronicles known as the Sumerian King Lists and other texts, thus he is an historical figure.





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