10: You Better Watch Out, You Better Not Cry, You Better Not Pout…

Finrod waited until after dinner to spring his news. By then, most of the residents of Edhellond were back from wherever they had been earlier. Two or three were still out and would not be back until later but Finrod decided not to wait. They were finishing with dessert, something called an apple brown betty, and sipping tea or coffee. Toward the end of the meal the conversation had centered around describing what Findalaurë, Calandil, Elennen and Nielluin could expect when they entered college after the New Year when Calandil asked about it. Vorondur was just finishing explaining what the three ellyn could expect when attending the lab portion of their Psychology 101 course and in the lull that followed, Finrod spoke up.

“I have found employment.”

All eyes turned to him and the silence was complete. Finrod smiled wryly. “Do not all speak at once; I only have two ears.”

Glorfindel was the first to recover. “What… when did this happen?”

“This morning. I went into town to do some Christmas shopping and there was a ‘Help Wanted’ sign in the bookstore window. As that was one of my destinations, when I went inside, I asked the proprietor Nicholas Greene about it and when I left, I was employed.” He fished the application out of his pocket, unfolding it and handing it to Daeron. “I will need help in filling this out.”

Daeron took the application, nodding. Glorfindel just stared at him. “You’re working as a clerk at the bookstore?”

Finrod raised an eyebrow. “You make it sound as if such work is beneath me. I assure you it is not.”

“Is this a firm commitment? I mean, are there any other applicants who may be more qualified than you….”

“And why am I not qualified?” Finrod demanded, feeling both anger and hurt. He had thought everyone would be glad that he was finding a way to ‘fit in’, to become a part of the community.

“Do you know the first thing about running a bookstore or any store for that matter?” Glorfindel asked, sounding perilously supercilious to Finrod’s ears.

“I ran an entire kingdom,” Finrod retorted.

“Which you lost.”

The silence after that was deafening. Finrod felt the blood draining from him and he stared at Glorfindel in disbelief for a second or two before he found he could no longer breathe properly. He stood abruptly and fled, ignoring everyone’s pleas to come back, practically running out into the back garden where he stood by the fire pit, his eyes closed, his hands clenched. He was trembling, but not from cold for all that the night was frigid even by Elvish standards.

He heard the back door open and close but he did not turn around to see who had dared to follow him, for he had a pretty good idea.

“Finrod, I’m sorry. I didn’t….”

“Mean it?” Finrod exclaimed, turning to face Glorfindel. “Then why did you say it? Why did you, of all people, throw that into my face? Do you not think I know? Do you not think I do not regret at times that I did lose my kingdom and over a Mortal? You are the one who keeps insisting that we of Valinor need to blend in more, become part of the Mortal community.”

“But working in a bookstore?”

“What is wrong with working in a bookstore?”

“Nothing! So long as your name isn’t Finrod Felagund.”

“I never took you for a snob, gwador.”

“I’m not! It’s just that I figured you would be doing something more… significant. What do you expect to accomplish sitting behind a counter and counting out change for the customer?”

“And you have not?”

“Of course I have, but that’s not the point!”

“Oh? What is the point, mellon nîn?”

“The point is you’re Finrod Felagund!” Glorfindel nearly shouted, throwing up his hands, looking frustrated.

“No! I am Quinn O’Brien,” Finrod shouted back. “Finrod Felagund may not need to work, but Quinn O’Brien does and as long as it is honorable employment, why do you care? We both have done menial work, or have you forgotten our stint in the royal kitchens of Tirion? Working in the bookstore is not menial, but even if it were, it is work, honest work. I would think you would be pleased and proud that I was able to do this all on my own.”

“But why didn’t you consult me first?”

Finrod reared back, staring at Glorfindel in stunned disbelief. Then he felt himself going cold with anger.

“Consult you?” he whispered angrily. Glorfindel seemed to realize how close he had come to insulting his gwador and attempted to apologize but Finrod brushed it aside. “You dare! Since when must I consult you about anything, Lord Glorfindel?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….”

“Do you think I spent all these ages in Aman incapable of making any decision because you were not around to tell me what to do?” Finrod demanded scathingly. “Do you think I am so inept? Or is it that you believe me an innocent abroad and you are here to lead me by the hand, because you know all about living in this world whereas I know nothing at all? How dare you!”

“You need to stop shouting, the two of you.”

Finrod and Glorfindel turned as one to find Vorondur standing there, looking more amused than anything. Before Finrod could respond, Glorfindel snarled, “What are you doing here? This is a private conversation. Go away.”

“So private that even with the windows shut and standing around with our fingers in our ears humming loudly we could all hear every word spoken,” Vorondur retorted sharply. “In fact, I’m sure even the Mortals nearby heard every word and their hearing is not as sharp as ours.”

“It’s still a private conversation and no one asked you to butt in,” Glorfindel growled.

“At least take your argument elsewhere,” Vorondur said, unperturbed by Glorfindel’s truculence. “The rest of us have no wish to listen to the two of you whine at one another.”

“I never whine!” Glorfindel screamed, clenching his hands.

“Oh yes you do,” Finrod couldn’t help retorting. “There were times when I wanted to strangle you to stop your whining. Honestly, for someone as old as you purport to be you sounded like a ten-year-old at times.”

“Take that back!” Glorfindel yelled and before Finrod realized it, the ellon attacked him, sending them both crashing to the ground. Finrod hissed in pain as the back of his head hit the snow-covered flagstones. There was a confused sound of shouting but Finrod was too busy trying to push Glorfindel off him to pay much attention. Then he was free of Glorfindel and was lying in the snow and mud, trying to catch his breath. He rubbed his left shoulder, attempting to ease some of the pain he felt there. Findalaurë knelt beside him with Laurendil on the other side, the two looking worried.

“Are you all right, Atto?” his son asked while Laurendil examined him.

“I am fine, Finda,” Finrod answered, trying not to wince at the pain as he attempted to rise.

“No you are not,” Laurendil said firmly, gently pushing him back down. Laurendil looked up to where Vorondur was speaking softly to Glorfindel while Elrohir and Elladan held him in place. Vorondur turned to him with a questioning look. “His Highness,” and he stressed the word, glaring briefly at Glorfindel, “is essentially fine, but Glorfindel did him no favors knocking him to the ground like that. The shoulder muscles around the wound have been wrenched and it looks as if he has knocked his head on the pavement as well. I can feel a lump on the back of his head.”

“Let’s get him inside and made comfortable while I deal with our fearless leader.”

Laurendil chuckled, though Finrod saw nothing amusing about any of it. He was in pain and he was still angry and hurt. Everything was going wrong. This wasn’t how he imagined his long-awaited reunion with the other half of his soul would turn out. He tried to protest that he did not need anyone’s help, but when he attempted to stand, the world lurched sickeningly and he clutched Findalaurë’s arm. Almost immediately, Vardamir was there as well and between the three ellyn, Finrod was helped back into the house. As they made their slow way down the path he heard Vorondur speaking to Glorfindel.

“… take one of my anger management classes.”

“I don’t need to take your classes,” he heard Glorfindel snarl.

“I can always go to Judge Harrison and get a court order forcing you to attend,” Vorondur said and there was a coldness to his voice that told Finrod that the ellon was not jesting. “I have enough evidence to support my petition and enough clout that James will listen to me.”

Whatever Glorfindel replied to that, Finrod did not hear, for he was now inside the house and being led up the back stairs to his room. Vardamir asked Findalaurë to draw a warm bath. “Warm, not hot,” the healer warned the younger ellon. “We just want your atto to be able to calm down and a hot bath will only raise his blood pressure.”

“Blood pressure?” Finrod asked. “Since when are you concerned about blood pressure?”

“Since working at the hospital,” Vardamir replied. “Now, let’s get you out of these wet things and into the bath. Laurendil, give his Highness a hand, will you, while I consult with your lovely wife and the Lady Mithrellas about concocting some balm for his Highness’s wounds.”

“Why such formality?” Finrod asked even as he allowed Laurendil to help him out of his shirt, trying not to wince.

“Because we think certain people need to be reminded of your status,” Vardamir replied, then exited the room as Findalaurë came in and announced that the bath was ready. He and Laurendil helped Finrod to the bathroom and into the bath.

“Why is this happening?” he asked, sighing more in despair than in pleasure at the feel of the warm water covering him. Findalaurë had had the presence of mind to sprinkle some lavender-scented bath salts into the water and the smell brightened the air even if it did not lift his mood.

“What do you mean?” Laurendil asked.

“I thought he would be proud that I was able to find work all on my own.”

“I’m proud of you, Atto,” Findalaurë said as he sat on the lip of the tub, idly running a hand through the water, making little eddies. “I think you working at the bookstore is so… cool.” The last word was in English rather than Quenya, which the three had been speaking.

Both Finrod and Laurendil gave the younger ellon amused looks. “Cool?” Finrod couldn’t help saying in a teasing tone.

Findalaurë blushed. “Sorry.”

“Do not be, yonya,” Finrod said sincerely. “I rejoice that you are becoming comfortable in speaking the Mortal language and using the proper idioms. It is one reason why I wish to take this job, to have greater exposure to how the Mortals speak, as well as to be able to meet them on a more intimate level.”

“As a clerk,” Laurendil said.

“You disapprove?” Finrod gave his friend and former subject a frown.

“On the contrary. I think it is an excellent idea. We all do.”

“Not all,” Finrod said with a sigh, slipping deeper into the water.

Vardamir appeared then, carrying a small bowl. “I have some salve for you, my lord, that should help, so whenever you’re ready to get out….”

“Where’s Glorfindel?”

“Taking a shower, I believe. The Twins are with him.”

“He is so angry,” Finrod said. “Why is he so angry?”

“It’s been a rough couple of months.”

They all looked to see Vorondur entering the room, which made for rather crowded conditions and Finrod was actually feeling outnumbered, sitting naked in a tub of water while everyone else was standing about fully clothed. At Finrod’s questioning look, Vorondur continued his explanation.

“This past semester was particularly hard on us all with the blizzard that left us without power for three days and then Richard Martina died and Alex almost died, twice, and then you came and you got shot and I don’t think Loren’s been able to relax since. He feels obligated to be the strong leader, running between being Administrator of Elf Academy to seeing to the needs of you Valinórean Elves, making sure your transitioning into our society is smooth and trouble-free. It is proving too much for him.”

“I am not an elfling needing minding, though,” Finrod said as he indicated his wish to get out of the tub. Both his son and Laurendil helped him as Vardamir handed him a towel to dry off. “And I do not need his approval, yet I had hoped he would be happy for me.”

“He will be, once he’s had time to think things through and get used to the idea that, as clueless as you are about life in Wiseman, Alaska, you are quite capable to figuring things out for yourself.” Vorondur gave him a knowing grin and Finrod grinned back. “Now, I suggest you go and rest and….”

“No. This has to be resolved tonight,” Finrod said firmly as he rubbed some of the ointment on his shoulder before donning a robe. “Have everyone gather in the library in a half an hour. If you have to bring Glorfindel there in chains, do so.”

Vorondur raised an eyebrow at that, for there was no levity in Finrod’s voice. He gave a short but respectful bow. “It will be as you say, Highness.”

Finrod sighed and rolled his eyes. “I do wish everyone would stop being so formal all of a sudden.”

“What is the punishment for attacking a lord of the land in Aman?” Vorondur asked as they headed back to Finrod’s room.

“If it is Glorfindel doing the attacking, usually he ends up cleaning the ovens in the royal kitchens,” Finrod replied with a grin, winking at his son, who blushed and would not meet anyone’s gaze. Laurendil and Vardamir actually snickered. Vorondur simply nodded.

“I will tell everyone,” he said and headed downstairs with Vardamir.

Twenty minutes later, Finrod descended the stairs with Findalaurë and Laurendil in tow. When they entered the library it was to find it full of Elves. Finrod noticed that the ones who had been out earlier were now back and were being advised as to what had happened, their expressions as troubled as everyone else’s. As soon as he entered the room all conversation stopped and everyone looked at him, those of Wiseman with some trepidation.

“I am fine,” he said, “if a little bruised. I….”

He was interrupted by the sound of the front doorbell ringing. “Now who can that be?” Nimrodel asked, looking perturbed. “We’re not expecting visitors tonight and if it were carolers they would just start singing.”

“The only way to find out is to go see,” Vorondur said with a slight smile as he slipped past Finrod and headed for the foyer. Everyone else started to follow but Finrod held up his hand and they all settled back somewhat reluctantly.

“Who’s at the door?”

Finrod turned to see Glorfindel standing behind him, staring up the hall. The Twins and Daeron were with him.

“Vorondur has gone to see,” Finrod said. They could all hear Vorondur greeting the person at the door and then a moment later he was returning with a Mortal who turned out to be none other than Judge Harrison.

Glorfindel actually paled and Finrod remembered Vorondur’s threat. Vorondur must have noticed Glorfindel’s stricken look because he smiled in amusement. “It’s not what you think,” he said. “Shall we all go in?”

Finrod nodded and stepped back into the room and everyone else followed. Vorondur motioned for the Judge to take a seat behind the desk while everyone else either sat or stood. Finrod was directed to a chair by the fire at Laurendil’s insistence; Glorfindel leaned against one of the walls, his arms crossed in front of him, attempting to look nonchalant. Vorondur was speaking even as he saw to the Judge. “I called James to come over because I think we need someone impartial to mediate this situation,” he explained.

“You should not have done that, Ron,” Glorfindel said with a scowl. “It’s unfair to drag James or any other Mortal into this.”

“Glorfindel is correct,” Finrod said. “It is unfair and I apologize for you having to come all the way over here. I am sure we are all capable of resolving this without outside help.”

“Well, I don’t live that far away, actually, just a couple blocks over on Seward,” the Judge said with a smile, “so I didn’t mind coming out and I’m glad to help. Mediation was my specialty when I was a lawyer, before sitting on the bench.”

“But what is there to mediate?” Lindorillë asked.

“Lord Glorfindel attacked Prince Finrod,” Vardamir explained. “That cannot be brushed aside and we cannot pretend it did not happen. But I do agree that dragging a Mortal into our affairs is not wise and you should have consulted with the rest of us before unilaterally making such a decision, Vorondur.”

“Well, he’s here now and I won’t be so rude as to throw him back out into the cold without at least offering him some coffee or tea,” Glorfindel said.

“Coffee would be good. Decaf if you have any.”

“Elves drinking decaf?” Daeron said with a glimmer of amused disbelief. “Perish the thought.” Several people chuckled and Judge Harrison actually laughed.

“Then whatever you have will be fine,” the Mortal said.

“I’ll bring you some hot chocolate, shall I?” Elrohir said and when Harrison nodded he left.

“In the meantime, why don’t you just tell me what all the fuss and bother is about?” Harrison said. “I promise I won’t charge by the minute, so take your time.” The Elves actually grinned as the Judge turned to Vardamir. “Did I hear you correctly, sir, that Loren attacked Prince Finrod?”

Vardamir nodded and started to speak but Harrison held up his hand to forestall him. Elrohir entered just then with the hot chocolate which the Mortal accepted gratefully, taking a sip. “Why don’t we hear from the two parties themselves? I’m sure you all are capable of telling me what happened but I’d rather hear it from the horse’s mouth myself. So, which of you two sterling examples of Elvenhood would like to start?” The Judge looked pointedly at Finrod and Glorfindel as he continued to sip his drink.

Several eyebrows went up and Finrod noticed Glorfindel actually blushing. There was no levity in the Mortal’s eyes and Finrod realized that Harrison was fully in judicial mode. An awkward silence ensued and Finrod sighed. “I am afraid I provoked Glorfindel into attacking me,” he admitted and there were several voices of protest at that statement. Harrison picked up a paperweight and pounded on the desk just hard enough to get everyone’s attention.

“Let’s have some order here, people,” he said, “and let Prince Finrod explain himself. Your Highness.”

“I do wish you would all stop calling me that,” Finrod exclaimed with a modicum of disgust. “This is not Aman and my titles hold no weight in this society.”

“But we are not of this society, not completely, and we hold to the old ways in terms of courtesy,” Daeron said then gave Finrod a sniff. “So, I’m afraid you’ll just have to put up with us being formal for a while, you stupid Noldo.”

“Hah!” Finrod exclaimed, but he was smiling as he and Daeron exchanged fond looks of friendship and others chuckled. Finrod then looked at Glorfindel. “Well, I wish to apologize for what I said, Glorfindel. It was untrue and hurtful, but you made it easy for me with your own attitude. I do not understand why you are so against my working in the bookstore. It is the perfect way for me to meet the people of Wiseman and to get to know them even as they get to know me without my titles and such getting in the way. When Nicholas Greene saw me he was so flustered he didn’t know what to do or say and I do not wish that. I want these people to approach me without fear, to treat me in the same manner in which they treat you and Daeron and you others of Wiseman.”

“So Nick Greene hired you to help out, did he? Well don’t that beat all,” Harrison said. “And that is what the argument was about, the fact that you applied for the bookstore job?”

Glorfindel spoke then. “It wasn’t about the job. It was just…”

“That I did not consult you about it first,” Finrod finished for him.

“And why did you feel that Prince Finrod needed to consult you on this or any other matter?” Harrison asked. “I am assuming that his Highness is well past the age of consent.”

“But I’m responsible for him, for all of them,” Glorfindel replied.

“Responsible in what way?”

“In every way,” Glorfindel exclaimed, shaking his head. “We’re in a precarious situation here, James. Not all of you Mortals welcome us and recent events have exacerbated the situation even more. I’ve spent the last two years trying to build bridges of understanding between us.”

“And my working at the bookstore threatens this?” Finrod asked.

“No, or maybe yes. Honestly, I don’t know. I only know that I would have appreciated you speaking to me and others first before deciding to take the job. You know how I hate surprises and when you told us about the job and that it was a done deal, I guess I just didn’t handle the news very well.”

“You haven’t handled things very well for quite some time, Loren,” Vorondur said. “You practically threatened Kyle Stoner with bodily harm because he was rude and arrogant, you hid in the Goldmine Inn for a week because you couldn’t bear to come back to Edhellond knowing that your room had been damaged when the tree fell on the roof, you were arrogant and supercilious toward Alex and Derek and I admit the rest of us were no better but we tend to take our cue from you, because, like it or not, you are our leader, or you were.”

“What does that mean?” Glorfindel demanded hotly.

Vorondur pointed to Finrod. “Ever since he’s arrived the two of you have been dancing around the issue of who is our leader, each of you trying not to overstep certain bounds because you two are gwedyr. Finrod, as a prince of Eldamar, outranks us all and by rights should be our leader now, but he is presently incapable of assuming that role because he’s too new to this place. You, on the other hand, are afraid of the day when he is able to take over because you’ve been doing quite well as our leader up to now. As you pointed out, you’ve spent the last two years building bridges between us and the Mortals and you’ve been quite successful at it. Elf Academy is prospering, perhaps more than the founders of the school ever thought it would, and it’s because of your leadership skills. Now you feel your position threatened.”

“I told you that I was told I was not to take over from you, Glorfindel,” Finrod said before Glorfindel could comment. “I meant what I said. Elf Academy is your responsibility. I have a different purpose, though Lord Manwë failed to tell me just what that purpose was, only that I would know it when I saw it.”

Silence settled about them and for a time there was only the sound of the fire crackling. Finally, Judge Harrison stirred. “So, to get back to the matter at hand, I am assuming that you, Prince Finrod, said something to Lord Glorfindel that so angered him that he physically attacked you, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you, Lord Glorfindel. Do you feel you had proper provocation to attack Prince Finrod as you did?”

“I don’t know if I would say proper provocation,” Glorfindel said with a rueful shake of his head. “We both said hurtful things to one another and for that I apologize.”

“Yet, it cannot be denied that you did attack a prince of the realm,” Prince Legolas said with a frown. “Even here in Middle-earth, that cannot be ignored, can it?” He looked at Harrison who shook his head.

“I heard about you threatening young Kyle Stoner, Loren. I think all of Wiseman heard about that. Not that the arrogant pup didn’t deserve it, but still…. If you had been hauled into my court on assault charges I would probably have consigned you to community service and then ordered you to take some anger management classes. As this is not my courtroom the best I can do is advise you all to take a deep breath and step back from the emotional precipice you seem to be teetering on.”

“What do you mean by that, James?” Vorondur asked, though Finrod suspected the ellon knew full well what the Judge meant but had asked for the benefit of the others.

“I’m just a poor Mortal and have no clue about how you Elves do things, but the moment I stepped in here I could feel the anger and dismay that was being radiated throughout the room and most of it seemed to be directed toward Loren.”

“For good reason,” Laurendil said.

“Perhaps, but which of you was capable of presiding over this little court of ours with impartiality toward both parties?”

There was a pause as everyone thought it over and one or two nodded in agreement. “And Ron was wise enough to realize that you needed someone from outside to mediate. Now, I am not about to dictate to any of you, but if you wish for my advice, I suggest very strongly that you all get a grip. I have no doubt that seeing Loren attack Finrod was upsetting, but brothers often fight. Hell, my brother and I fought all the time. Still do, though these days we usually limit ourselves to a mean game of chess to air out our differences as neither of us is in any condition to roll about the floor trying our level best to gouge each other’s eyes out.”

Several people, Finrod included, actually chuckled and the tension in the room eased somewhat. Harrison nodded and looked at Glorfindel. “Loren, you’re an estimable person and I highly respect you, but you’re beginning to lose it, as they say, and that’s a dangerous thing to do in your position. I would recommend a couple of sessions with Ron here to help you manage your emotions a bit better. “

“If it will help, I will join you in those classes,” Finrod said to Glorfindel.

“Why?” Glorfindel asked, obviously surprised.

“Because I want to. We are gwedyr after all. How often did we share each other’s punishments back in Tirion?”

Glorfindel snorted in amusement. “To tell you the truth, I’m surprised Lord Námo didn’t haul us both before his Court like that last time.”

Finrod laughed. “And my atar commenting that it was probably more a trial for him than for us.”

Now others were grinning, some of them well remembering the events being spoken of.

“So, all is forgiven then?” Judge Harrison asked and when both Finrod and Glorfindel nodded he banged the paperweight once. “Then I declare this court adjourned. I’ll leave it to you, Ron, to work out the details of the classes.”

Vorondur nodded.

“Why do we not all take the classes along with Finrod and Glorfindel?” Erestor suggested. When everyone just gave him disbelieving looks, he shrugged. “I admit that my expectations of what Middle-earth would be like since I was last here have fallen short of reality and I find myself feeling angry and confused at times. I think we could all benefit from such classes.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Vorondur said. “If everyone is willing, I will ask a couple of my colleagues who are counselors at the college to help out and we’ll set up classes for after the New Year.”

“That would be fine,” Finrod said. “Is that all right with you, Glorfindel?”

Glorfindel nodded. “Do what you think best, Ron. Now, I’m sure James would like to get home. I am sorry you were dragged into this.”

“I am not,” Harrison said as he pulled himself out of the chair. “It’s been most illuminating. Rather reminds me of my days presiding over night court. Never knew what crazies were going to show up even when the moon wasn’t full.” He gave them a knowing smile. Several eyebrows rose at that statement.

“We will see you out,” Finrod said, also standing, and everyone bid the Mortal a goodnight as Finrod, Glorfindel and Vorondur escorted Harrison to the door.

“Thank you, James,” Vorondur said as he handed the judge his coat. Finrod and Glorfindel echoed his sentiment.

“Any time, Ron. You know where to find me if you need me.” Then he turned to Finrod and Glorfindel with a frown. “And you two. I don’t ever want to see either one of you in my court again. Do I make myself clear?”

“As glass, Judge,” Glorfindel replied, grinning. Finrod simply gave him an amused look.

Harrison nodded, wishing them a goodnight as he stepped outside and headed for his car. Vorondur closed the door once he saw the Mortal pulling out of the drive.

“Thank you, Ron,” Finrod said, using the ellon’s Mortal name for the first time.

Vorondur just nodded. “Let’s go back to the library and we’ll talk, all of us, shall we? I think there are things that need to be said between us all.”

Finrod and Glorfindel nodded and together they headed back down the hall to the library.

****

Yonya: (Quenya) My son, contracted from yondonya.