10: Concerning Alex and other Matters

Finrod leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of the burgundy in his glass, watching the interplay between the four Mortals and Glorfindel, who, for the moment, was acting as the spokesman for all the Elves as he attempted in a very short amount of time to cover ages of elven history and their relationship with the Secondborn. Alex and Anne were sitting on the sofa while Derek and his father were in easy chairs. Glorfindel was sitting in a straight-back chair between them. The Twins were standing behind the Mortals, with Elladan standing behind Derek and Andy and Elrohir standing behind Alex and his mother. Vorondur and Daeron hovered by the fireplace. Finrod had taken a seat somewhat apart, sitting in the shadows, watching them all.

After Námo had left, Andy began demanding explanations. Finrod suggested that they clear the room so the Mortals could breathe, for he could tell at a glance that both Andy and Anne were looking a bit flushed. Of the Elves, only Glorfindel, Finrod, Daeron, Vorondur, Amroth and the Twins remained — Daeron, because he refused to leave, saying he’d missed most of the evening’s fun already; Amroth because of Alex, Vorondur to keep an eye on everyone’s emotions and the Twins in case either of the older Mortals needed medical assistance.

“Although, if they haven’t suffered a heart attack by now, they probably never will, at least, not over this,” Elladan pointed out when Glorfindel asked the Twins to stay.

“Delayed reaction,” Elrohir rejoined and his brother nodded in agreement.

Finrod ordered wine all around, though Anne decided on sherry and Andy asked if there was any beer left. When everyone had settled, Glorfindel began to explain. Just now, he was telling them about the wars in Beleriand. Finrod found himself recalling some of the events Glorfindel spoke of, especially those concerning him.

“… mean you’ve been hanging out among us humans for all that time? Why didn’t you just go home to this… this… what did you call it?”

Finrod blinked, realizing he had missed a great deal of what his gwador had said as he sat there reminiscing. It was Andy who asked the question.

“Valinor,” Glorfindel replied. “The land of the Valar. You met one of them tonight.”

“You mean that Nate fellow,” Andy said.

“His real name is Námo, Lord of Mandos,” Finrod supplied, leaning forward, effectively bringing him out of the shadows. He hid a smile at all four Mortals starting and realized they had probably forgotten he was even there.

“In your mythology, you might call him the Angel of Death,” Vorondur added, “though he is more than that, much more.”

Andy looked a bit skeptical and he glanced at his son and then Alex and Anne, as if gauging their reactions.

“Well, I did meet him in a cemetery, so I suppose that makes sense,” Anne said with a shrug. “He doesn’t seem scary though.”

Alex chuckled. “Maybe he left his scythe at home because he said it was a social call and not official business.”

“Lord Námo does not have a scythe,” Finrod said in all seriousness, ignoring the eye-rolling he was getting from the Twins. He looked at Vorondur. “Why a scythe?”

“Long story,” Vorondur replied with a grin. “You and Glorfindel know him better than the rest of us, but I have to agree with Anne that Lord Námo doesn’t seem all that scary.”

“Then you’ve never been the victim of one of his ‘little chats’,” Glorfindel retorted, crooking his fingers to indicate a quotation. “Until you’ve been Námo’d, as Derek so succinctly put it, you have no idea just how scary that particular Vala can be.”

There was a brief pause and then Andy stirred. “Still haven’t answered my question. Why didn’t you just go home to this Valinor?”

“Speaking for myself, I simply had no desire to do so,” Vorondur said. “This was my home, still is, and the longer I lived among you Mortals, the more fascinated I became and I wished only to remain here and study you.”

“You make us sound like lab rats or something,” Andy retorted.

“Not at all,” Vorondur assured him. “I studied you much the same way as your own anthropologists and the like study you, to learn about all the ways in which Mortals define themselves and see themselves in relation to the rest of the universe. Studying you has helped me to understand my own people.”

“What did you mean about us being related?” Anne suddenly asked, directing the question at Alex. “You said we had Elven blood in us. How do you know? Is there a special gene or something that makes someone an Elf and not a Human?”

“We are all humans, Anne,” Daeron interjected, “in the larger sense of the word, that is. If we weren’t, there could be no viable offspring between us. We’re simply a separate, but related, branch of Humanity, homo sapiens immortalis, you might say.”

“That seems to me to be the great divide between us,” Anne said, “you claiming immortality. In that case, we homo sapiens sapiens have more in common with the lower animals than we do with you, since, like them, we die whether we wish to or not.”

“Except, that unlike them, you have the gift of self-awareness, including the awareness of your own mortality, as well as the ability to love,” Vorondur said. “That sets you apart from the lower animals and puts you on par with us. We are more alike than we are different and we can die. Holly and I lost our sons… a long time ago.” His expression became infinitely sad for a moment. Daeron reached out and squeezed his arm in sympathy.

An uneasy silence hung between them all and then Glorfindel stirred, addressing Anne. “Getting back to your question, certain things happened recently with Alex that alerted us to the possibility that he might be a very, very distant descendant of someone named Elros, who had both Elven and Mortal blood in him. He and his twin brother Elrond were given a choice by the Valar to either remain immortal or accept mortality. Elrond decided to remain among the Elves, but Elros chose to become mortal and became the first king of those Men who settled on the island of Númenor. His descendants later returned to Middle-earth when the island was destroyed and we think that you and Alex may have Númenórean blood in you. It’s very diluted, of course, but it would explain the fact that your family is generally longer-lived than most and not because of modern medical technology, at least from what Alex has told us.”

“And is that supposed to make us feel important or special?” Anne asked.

“No, Anne,” Vorondur said before Glorfindel could answer. “There is absolutely nothing special about that. I imagine that thousands, if not millions, of people around the world could make the same claim if they knew of it.”

“This is a lot to take in all at once,” Anne said.

“Amen to that,” Andy retorted. He glanced at his wristwatch. “Goodness! It’s nearly eleven. We better get going. We have an early start tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Alex and I will pick you two up at seven or thereabout,” Derek said, standing and stretching. His father also stood and Alex was helping his mother out of the sofa.

“Please consider carefully what we’ve told you,” Glorfindel said as he escorted the Mortals to the front door with the other Elves trailing behind, “especially you two moving here. We would all feel a lot happier knowing that you are here where we can protect you.”

“Even me?” Andy asked as he shrugged on his coat. “Why am I in danger?”

“Because of me, Dad,” Derek replied. “The Agency Alex once worked for knows who I am and that Alex and I are very close friends. If they can’t get to him through his mom, they might try through me and you’re my weakness.”

“Well, I’ll think about it, but I don’t promise anything,” Andy said. “At my age, change doesn’t come easily.”

“You’ve been hinting about retiring anyway, Dad. You could retire here and do all the fly-fishing you want.” Derek gave his father a knowing grin.

“I said I would think about it, and that’s what I meant,” Andy shot back with a glare.

“And that is all we ask,” Glorfindel said soothingly. “Have a safe trip home, the both of you. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you,” Anne said.

Goodbyes were said and then the four Mortals were out the door, heading for Alex’s car. Only when Alex had turned out of the drive and headed away did Glorfindel shut the door, turning to look at the others standing silently.

“Well, that went well enough, I suppose, all things considered,” he said.

“Let us hope they make the right decision and agree to move here,” Vorondur said.

“Amen to that,” Daeron retorted. “Well, I think I will retire. Good night to you all.”

“Good night,” the others chimed as Daeron climbed the stairs. The Twins excused themselves, as well, saying they were going to take a walk. They threw on their coats and left.

“Ron and I had better get back home ourselves,” Amroth said and in a short time, Glorfindel and Finrod were alone.

For a long moment they just stared at one another, then Finrod smiled. “Chess?”

Glorfindel nodded. “Chess it is.”

****

Late Saturday, the predicted blizzard hit.

“I’ll be so glad when spring comes,” one of the Valinórean Elves was heard to mutter as some of them stared out the windows at what Thandir called ‘Helcaraxë White’.

“It was always white,” Glorfindel retorted with a smile at his friend. “And spring will come soon enough.”

Alex phoned them as they were finishing dinner, assuring Glorfindel that they were safely in Fairbanks and had had no trouble.

“Mom and Andy pestered me and Derek all the way down with questions, half of them neither of us could answer,” he said. “It was a very long trip.”

Glorfindel grinned. “I’m sure you managed.  The latest weather report says the blizzard will blow itself out by tomorrow, but I would still caution you to stay in Fairbanks until Tuesday.”

“Have to anyway, as the university bookstore doesn’t open until noon on Mondays during intersession. Oh, and speaking of books, Derek suggested that we give our parents our copies of the History of the Elves to read. I hope that’s okay. I know you barely skimmed over your history last night.”

“No. That’s perfectly fine. In fact, I should have thought of it myself and given them their own copies. Thanks. So do you think your mother will move here?”

“I have no idea. At least she’s stopped talking about genetic disorders and plastic surgery, so that’s a step in the right direction.”

Glorfindel chuckled. “Give her time, Alex. Not everyone comes to acceptance in the same way or all at once. Remember how you were when you first came here?”

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Alex said with chagrin. “Look, I’ve got to go. We haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Then I won’t keep you. Give Anne and Andy our regards and wishes for a safe and pleasant trip home and we’ll see you when you get back. Call me or Amroth when you do, will you?”

“No problem. See you in a few days.”

They hung up and Glorfindel told Finrod and those who happened to be in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner about what Alex had told them.

“Andy is the one I worry about, more so than Anne,” Vorondur said where he was sitting with his wife at the breakfast nook sipping on tea. He and Ercassë had come over earlier to discuss Academy business with Glorfindel and had stayed for dinner. With the blizzard raging they had decided to remain for the night.

Glorfindel wasn’t the only one to give him a disbelieving look. “But why?” Daeron asked where he was standing at the sink washing pots and pans. “He seemed to be more willing to accept what we told him than Anne.”

“Just a feeling I have,” Vorondur said with a shrug. “He is very good at hiding his true feelings behind one-liners. He was scared last night. Nate’s disappearing act frightened him.” He paused, shaking his head. “I do wish our Alien Overlords would not do that.”

“Our Alien what??!!” Glorfindel exclaimed with a laugh. Everyone else just stared at the ellon in surprise.

Vorondur grinned mischievously. “Alien Overlords. Alex referred to them that way once. I thought it rather… descriptive of his frame of mind at the time.”

“You still treating him, then?” Daeron asked as he finished rinsing the last pan and placed it on the drainboard, wiping his hands on a towel.

“We meet once a week,” Vorondur stated, “at his request, not mine. Alex understands that he has several issues relating to his time at the Agency that he needs to resolve. I think for the most part he’s integrated himself quite nicely, but his life is going to be quite different now compared to what he was doing before. He may deny it, but he loved the excitement of the chase and the danger of possibly dying. And I think he was in danger of dying more often than any of us suspect and he thrived on it. It was an adrenaline rush for him. I think he will find his new life very dull and unexciting in comparison and that can be a problem.”

“We’ll have to keep an eye on him then,” Glorfindel said.

“Invite him to our council meetings,” Ercassë suggested with a sly look. “If he wants cutthroat action, that’s where he’ll find it.”

More than one Elf chuckled at that. “Still, he’s made this choice on his own,” Daeron pointed out. “I can’t imagine that every day at the Agency he was blowing people up or getting shot at. He’s told us he spent a lot of time just doing analytical studies and translations. There’s nothing too exciting about that.”

“True, but those times were interspersed with dangerous assignments,” Vorondur said. “Alex has spoken in generalities about his undercover work. Some of what he’s told me has been quite harrowing to hear and I don’t use that word lightly, nor will I describe them to you, but I will tell you this: Alex is always very animated when he is describing those assignments. He gets quite excited, almost, I would say, high, as if he were on something. And in a way he is. He’s an adrenaline junkie.”

“And that means what exactly?” Finrod asked, speaking for the first time. He was sitting opposite Vorondur, also having some tea.

“It means that sooner or later, he’s going to want to feel that rush again,” Vorondur said, “to feel alive and trust me when I say that Alex never feels more alive than when he’s staring into the barrel of a gun that’s aimed at him. Teaching Beginning French and Italian will never compare. We need to watch out for that. I’ve already spoken to Amroth about it. He, more than the rest of us, understands just what Alex has gone through and how it has affected him. We all need to be vigilant.”

“And we will be,” Finrod said decisively. “I have grown quite fond of Alex and Derek. They remind me so much of Beren and Barahir and some of the other Mortals I once knew.”

“And speaking of Derek, what do you think will happen with Andy?” Glorfindel asked. “You expressed concern over him.”

“As Andy pointed out, change does not come easily to someone at his age. Yet, he is flexible enough in his thinking that he recognized the future in computers and went back to school to learn about them. My concern is that he was genuinely frightened last night, though he hid it well. Did any of you see it?”

They all shook their heads and Vorondur nodded. “As I thought, but it was there and I do not know how that will affect him later when he’s back home and has had time to process what’s happened. I would love to order some Maia to keep tabs on him for me, but that’s not going to happen. I will suggest to Derek that he keep in regular contact with his father, more so than before.”

Silence fell between them all for a moment as they contemplated Vorondur’s words. Finally, Finrod stirred, speaking to Glorfindel. “What about the Agency? Do you know if the Maiar are still watching over it and Madison Washburn?”

Glorfindel shrugged. “I’m assuming so, but let’s face it, the Maiar don’t answer to me or you or anyone else in Wiseman. They answer to the Valar and the Valar have not seen fit to keep us entirely in the loop.” He scowled. “You know, in some ways, they certainly act as if they were our Alien Overlords, ordering us about but never really telling us anything.”

“Preaching to the choir, boy, preaching to the choir,” Daeron said with a laugh.

“I would love to get them on my couch, separately and collectively,” Vorondur said, giving them all a sly grin. “I wish Sigmund and Carl were still alive. They would have a blessed field day with them.”

They all laughed at that. When they calmed down, Finrod said, “What you have told us about Alex concerns me. I have yet to tell you about my conversation with Lord Manwë.”

“Did he mention Alex?” Vorondur asked.

“No, but he warned me of something that Lord Námo told young Derek, that the enemy within is oft times more dangerous than the enemy without and we need to be vigilant against it for it takes many forms and it is not always easy to discern. Like… well, like my recent bout of depression.” He refused to look at any of them, keeping his eyes fixed on the tea cup before him.

“That you finally acknowledge it is a step in the right direction,” Vorondur said. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m always available and I won’t charge.”

Finrod looked up and saw the ellon smile with genuine warmth and there was no judgment behind it, merely acceptance. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Perhaps I will take you up on your offer… sometime.”

Vorondur nodded and Finrod was glad that the ellon did not press.

“So, what do we do, about this enemy within, I mean?” Ercassë asked. “How do we fight against it? It’s not as if we can shoot it or use a sword against it.”

“No, but we fight it nevertheless everyday of our lives,” Vorondur said. “We all of us have Darkness within us and most of the time we can control it, but sometimes things happen and we allow our anger and our sense of betrayal to rule us and we allow the Darkness greater purchase. That’s why I want to set up those anger management classes as soon as practical. There are too many raw emotions running loose around here and we need to deal with them before they destroy us.”

“Then schedule the classes,” Glorfindel said. “Finrod and I have already agreed to attend. Choose an evening or two. You’re not planning on having us all attend the same class at once, are you?”

“No, that would be counterproductive. I plan to have Max Connery and Sunny Madigan help me out with the classes. They each have held similar classes for the college students and I will coach them on how to handle things since they’ve never had to deal with Elves.”

“Fine. Do whatever you think best,” Glorfindel said. “Now, why don’t we forget about all that and join the others in the library?”

To that, none of them had any objections.