17: A Conversation Overheard

Alex and Derek left soon after dessert, both pleading early mornings.

“I have to be down at Marty’s by eight,” Derek told them. “He wants me to start shadowing Bobbie while she’s working so I’ll know what to do once she leaves to get married.”

“And I have a meeting with the dean to go over my teaching duties,” Alex chimed in.

“Then we’ll see you later,” Glorfindel said, seeing them to the door.

“Don’t forget our appointment at three, Alex,” Vorondur said.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be there with bells on my toes and all that.”

The two Elves laughed and wished them a good night. As he closed the door, Glorfindel glanced at Vorondur. “Sure would’ve liked to have seen you taking Alex down. That must’ve been a Kodak moment if there ever was one.”

Vorondur laughed. “The expression on his face was priceless,” he averred as the two headed back down the hall to the library where others were gathering.

“How long do you think he’ll be under your care?” Glorfindel asked.

“As long as necessary,” Vorondur replied, frowning slightly. “This upcoming trial will be a dangerous time for him, I think, at least emotionally. The defense is going to try to tear his testimony to shreds, his more so than anyone else’s. Also, I’m not sure what the legalities of the situation might be with regards to Alex’s status. He’s no longer an employee of the Agency, so he cannot plead immunity, but at the same time, he took oaths to preserve state secrets and if the defense attempts to make him divulge anything of that nature, there might be a problem. I am planning to speak with Gregory Sanderson. He’s promised to be here for the trial.”

“It does seem as if this trial is moving along much quicker than usual, though,” Daeron put in, having overheard part of the conversation as Glorfindel and Vorondur found seats by the fire where they joined Finrod, who was sitting on the settee with Finda and Nell on either side of him. “I don’t think they even bothered with a grand jury investigation.”

“No, I think Madison Washburn pulled certain strings to get them to go straight to trial,” Glorfindel replied. “She wants this done and over with as quickly as possible. Farrell needs to be behind bars. The other agents…” He shrugged. “I think they’ll probably get time served for their part in the kidnapping, but who knows? They’re being tried separately from Farrell anyway and I suspect that Maddy will attempt to have those charges dropped and the boys sent packing. They’re not necessarily evil, just misguided.”

“Tell that to Zach,” Vorondur retorted with a grimace. “And that’s another thing, if Alex has to testify in all the trials, I do not guarantee his mental or emotional state.”

“Which is why I think Maddy is hoping to avoid that,” Glorfindel said. “No one really wants to be airing the Agency’s dirty laundry in public. Farrell’s actions, however, simply cannot be ignored.”

“When will Zach return?” Finda asked. “I miss him.”

“We all do,” Calandil put in from where he was seated with Laurendil and Manwen.

“He should be back any day,” Glorfindel said, giving them a warm smile. “Have you heard from him?” he asked Vorondur.

“Not directly. I spoke with my colleague, Jonathan Atherton, who’s been seeing Zach while he’s been away, and he says Zach’s dealing with things much better. Jon’s prescribed some anti-anxiety medication which I approved and I’ll monitor that once he’s back here. I plan to have him check in with me periodically.”

“And I’ll make sure he sees you whether he wants to or not,” Glorfindel promised.

“What do you think of Alex’s and Derek’s ideas about earning our keep?” Beleg asked, entering the conversation. “Zombie hunter boot camp?” He shook his head.

“I’ve heard worse ideas,” Glorfindel said with a shrug. “The zombie hunter thing is just an angle, but I think their idea of providing a wilderness training camp is sound. We certainly can recruit Paul and some of the other rangers to help out.”

“Finding an appropriate place to hold the camp might be a problem though,” Elladan pointed out. “And we’d need a lodge and cabins and such as well. If we have to start from scratch, we’re not going to be in business immediately.”

“But as Alex pointed out, time is on our side,” his twin responded.

“We need to think about it and come up with a business plan, but I think it might be doable,” Glorfindel said, “as is the idea of using the internet to sell things. Jewelry is especially a good draw.”

“We need to start small, though,” Daeron suggested. “Test the waters, so to speak. Perhaps we can ask the various lodges and resorts to sell our products on consignment. Stress the ‘made by Elves’ angle to the patrons. They won’t be souvenirs that are sold in the gift shops, but quality pieces at reasonable prices and we can certainly sell things on Ebay as well as through our own website.”

“And not everyone would be involved with creating things,” Amroth said. “Once the business is up and running you’ll need salespeople, accountants, someone to oversee everything and the like.”

“So, why do we not draw up a business plan for that as well?” Gilvagor suggested. “Those of us who are involved with Elf Academy can help out when our other duties do not take precedence, and as some of us have owned our own businesses before, we can offer suggestions and help steer you through the legal shoals of setting up a business.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Finrod said, entering the conversation for the first time. “I am curious to see how this all turns out. It is important for us all to have a purpose beyond helping to prepare the Mortals for the coming war.”

“How are you doing?” Vorondur asked him.

“I am fine, thank you,” Finrod replied a little stiffly. “Nicholas and I talked and he was very sympathetic. I fear I frightened him.”

“He’ll be fine, though,” Glorfindel assured Finrod. “Nick’s a lot stronger than you might think.”

“Lady Varda said he was a warrior though he does not know this,” Finrod rejoined.

“When did she say this?” Glorfindel asked, giving his gwador a puzzled look.

“Not long ago. It was when I was walking in the woods one night alone. She came to me and talked. Apparently the Valar were behind my being employed at the bookshop, or at least, they set it up and hoped I would take the bait.”

“She actually said that?” Vorondur enquired, giving Finrod a discerning look.

“Not in so many words,” Finrod replied, “but that is what it sounded as if she was saying. She assured me that I found the job all on my own; the Valar merely inspired Nicholas to speak with Daeron who gave him advice.”

Daeron nodded. “I remember that. I was at the bookstore just before Christmas and Nick and I started talking. He mentioned that he’d put a help wanted ad in the local rag but so far he’d gotten no takers. I suggested he put a sign in the window and see what happened, since not everyone bothers to read the want ads.”

“And apparently, I am the only person to have applied for the position,” Finrod said. He paused, frowning slightly. “I have to wonder if the Valar inspired others not to apply for the position, leaving it open for me.”

“Well we always knew they were manipulative, though they try to claim otherwise,” Glorfindel said with a shrug, “but I would not worry about it too much. As Ron pointed out once, you were very brave to apply. When you went into the shop you didn’t have to tell Nick you were looking for work. You could’ve made your purchases and walked out. But you didn’t. You took control of your own destiny. If the Valar had a hand in setting up the scenario, so be it. At least it shows they are genuinely concerned for you and wish to help you.”

For a moment, everyone in the room just stared at him with various expressions ranging from disbelief to amusement. Glorfindel scowled back.

“What?”

“That was rather… mature of you,” Vorondur said in a careful tone.

“Hello! I can do mature when I put my mind to it,” Glorfindel retorted with a disdainful sniff and everyone started laughing.

“Well, as much as I would like to stay and chat, Amroth and I should be getting back home before our wives send out the posse,” Vorondur said, standing. “I trust everything is cool here, as the Mortals would say.”

“Yeah, Ron, it’s cool,” Glorfindel replied with a grin. “Go home, the two of you. Give our best to Holly and Della and we’ll see you later.”

Vorondur and Amroth took their leave and the other Elves continued to talk about a number of subjects as the evening wore on.

****

“I still think he should apologize.”

“They seem to be friends again.”

“Looks can be deceiving, though I grant you, they seemed to be working together quite well when those Mortals were here the other day.”

“They’re gwedyr after all. Brothers argue all the time and then they make up.”

“And not necessarily in public.”

“I still think he should offer a public apology. Finrod is our leader, after all.”

“Tell that to the Wiseman Elves, my friend. They practically worship the ground the Balrog-slayer walks on.”

“It cannot last, though. Something has to give. We need one ruler, not two, and whether anyone likes it or not, Finrod is the highest-ranking of us all.”

“There’s Amroth.”

“A Silvan? Please, don’t make me laugh. He is so far below Finrod or even Glorfindel it’s not even funny. No. No one will rally behind him. It’s Finrod or Glorfindel and as there are more of us from Valinor than there are those who remained here in Middle-earth, I think we need to make it clear that Finrod is our leader and no one else.”

“But many of us are friends of them both. How can we choose between them?”

“We’re not choosing friends, we’re choosing a leader and we need to let them know that, in the final analysis, Finrod is the most logical choice. I have nothing against Glorfindel personally. He is an admirable ellon, but he is not a king.”

“Well, if it comes to that, neither is Finrod, and he hasn’t been for a very long time. I think we should just let them work it out for themselves. There’s nothing wrong with joint rule. We need Glorfindel and the other Wiseman Elves to help us. Without them we would be lost, even Finrod.”

“If only he would apologize….”

Daeron willed himself to stillness as the three Elves passed under him where he was sitting in the branches of a northern spruce enjoying the rare spring-like day with its blue sky and warm sun, a harbinger of things to come. The three had been speaking in Sindarin as they walked through the woods behind the mansion.

They were not the only Elves wandering the woods and enjoying the day. He knew that the Twins were out here somewhere playing zombie tag with Finda, Calandil, Elennen and Nell. It had been Elladan who had suggested the game and they had taken the youngsters into town the day before to purchase paintball equipment. Now, he could hear the distant peal of laughter as someone made a hit and in spite of himself he smiled.

The smile fled as he watched the three Elves he had inadvertently overheard speaking wandering away and he wondered what, if anything, he should do about it. He knew that Finrod and Glorfindel needed to know, and it saddened him that one of the Elves had been Helena. It was she who had insisted that Glorfindel make a public apology to Finrod for his reaction to what everyone was referring to as the ‘horror book episode’.

He leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the sun and the sleepy thoughts of the tree soothe him. He recalled the last time he had ‘told’ on someone and how that all turned out. He frowned. It had been so long ago and yet it still pained him. He had been in the wrong, he knew that now, but knowing it did not change what happened. And really, the two situations were not the same.

“Help me find wisdom,” he whispered, and he had no idea to whom he sent that particular prayer or if they were even listening. He continued to sit there for a while, wondering what he should do. At one point, the sun slipped behind fleecy white clouds and the light dimmed. Sighing, he decided he’d had enough communing with nature and climbed down to the ground, quietly thanking the tree for its company before he loped away, silent as a shadow.

****

Vorondur opened the front door, surprised to see Daeron standing there. He glanced in the driveway, not seeing the loremaster’s car. “Did you walk across town?”

Daeron shrugged as Vorondur let him in and handed him a hanger for his coat. “It’s a nice day for a walk.”

“Which is why Amroth and Della are out along with Holly, taking advantage of the warm weather.”

“Why aren’t you with them?”

“Lucky for you, I am not,” Vorondur replied, giving the loremaster a shrewd look. “I had some work I needed to finish up, otherwise I would be enjoying the great outdoors with the others.”

“Oh, sorry, Ron. I didn’t think.” He started to put his coat back on but Vorondur forestalled him.

“It’s not a problem, Darren. You’re more important than a bunch of files. They’ll wait. So why didn’t you call to make sure I would be home?”

“I didn’t want others to possibly overhear,” Daeron answered. Vorondur raised an eyebrow at that and Daeron continued. “I decided that if you weren’t home, you would be eventually and I would just wait. I’m not on the clock today and I am not answerable to anyone for my movements.”

“So why don’t we go into my office and you can tell me what is troubling you,” Vorondur suggested. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?”

“Tea would be nice, something minty.”

“Della has a mint blend. Come into the kitchen while I put the kettle on and we can talk.”

“When will the others be back? I really don’t want to have to explain my presence or why I’m seeing you on a professional basis.”

“And are you seeing me on a professional basis?”

“I need advice and you’re the only one I can trust not to repeat what I am about to say. You’re the closest thing to a priest we have.”

“Well, to answer your original question, they left about fifteen minutes ago and they plan to be out for at least an hour, maybe more. We’ll go to my office once the tea is made and we will close the door. The others know that when my office door is closed I am not to be disturbed except for an actual emergency, such as a fire.”

“But if they see me….”

“I have their assurances that they will respect doctor-patient confidentiality and will not speak of who comes to see me, including other Elves. It was a stipulation that I insisted on when Holly and I agreed to move in with Amroth and Della.”

Daeron nodded. “Well, let me tell you what I overheard, but I prefer not to name names at this time.”

“Fair enough,” Vorondur said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I’m all ears.”

Daeron told him what he had overheard, mentioning only that the conversation had been between two ellyn and an ellith, all of them Valinórean Elves. “I can give you the conversation verbatim, if you wish.” And at Vorondur’s nod, he did just that, drawing upon his training as a loremaster to instantly recall the conversation.

In the meantime, the tea was made and they retired to Vorondur’s office, what had originally been a den or guest room. Two of the walls had built-in book shelves stuffed with books. Vorondur’s desk was in front of the room’s only window on the left and there were comfortable chairs for people to sit in. It was warm and inviting and Daeron felt relaxed and… safe as he settled into one of the chairs while Vorondur took the other.

When Daeron finished his recitation, Vorondur sighed. “What you tell me is not unexpected, though I had hoped seeing Finrod and Loren working together as they did would help ease the obvious tensions between the two groups.”

“I respect Finrod,” Daeron said slowly. “I remember his visits to Doriath. He was gracious and courteous to all whatever their social status, but Loren has been our leader for so long—”

“Yours perhaps,” Vorondur interjected with a smile. “I’ve only known him for a a couple of years, though I remember him from Imladris as well, but that was a very long time ago.”

“And except for the Twins, none of you will ever appreciate what it meant to me when he found me and rescued me.”

“Rescued you? How—? No, forgive me. I do not have the right to ask you. I have noticed a certain reticence between you, Loren and the Twins when it comes to sharing your stories.”

“Not out of shame, I assure you,” Daeron replied with a sigh. “In my case… I wandered for so long, filled with guilt and grief at what I had done and in the end it came to naught. I loved Lúthien and could not save her. For a long time I blamed Beren for that, but at some point I stopped blaming anyone, including myself. It was what it was. In the meantime, I wandered into regions never tread by Elves, or so I imagined. I never came across any of the Avari.”

“Neither did I, though I found traces of them, primarily in the legends and myths of the Mortals.”

Daeron nodded. “At any rate, when Loren found me….” He stopped, putting a hand to his mouth, his eyes tearing up. He shook his head and then he was crying. Vorondur went to him and held him through his tears until they slowed and then released him, reaching over to grab some tissues sitting on an end table just for that purpose. He handed the tissues to Daeron who took them with a whispered thank you, and then busied himself with refreshing the loremaster’s tea, giving him time to compose himself.

“You are not obligated to tell me anything about yourself, Darren,” he said as he retook his seat, “but if at any time you feel a need to talk about it in a safe environment, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you,” Daeron said. “Sorry to have fallen apart on you like that. I try not to think about it too much. My life is so much different now after joining with Loren and the Twins, and then when Della and Misty entered our lives, I felt so blessed. I still do. That’s why this rift that seems to be developing between the various groups of Elves troubles me. It’s Doriath all over again.”

“Not the same, though,” Vorondur pointed out. “But I am glad you came to me about this. I agree that we need to address this situation or it will only get worse.”

“What should I do?” Daeron asked almost pleadingly. “The last time I… I told on someone, well, it did not go well.”

“To say the least,” Vorondur retorted with a grin. “I will tell you what I tell everyone who asks me the same question: do what your heart tells you to do. If you decide to remain silent, I will respect your decision and no one will hear it from me. I will support any decision you make.”

“But you will not make the decision for me,” Daeron supplied the unspoken half of that sentence.

“That is not my job, and you know this.”

“I do and I appreciate what you are saying. I just hoped… frankly, I’m not sure what I hoped in coming here.”

“You needed a safe place to think out loud and I have offered you that space,” Vorondur said. “Ah, I think I hear voices. Amroth and the ellith must be back. Shall we go greet them?”

“What about… all this?” Daeron waved his hand.

“What do you want to do?”

For a moment, Daeron did not answer, his expression still, his eyes seeing nothing of the present moment. Then he focused on Vorondur. “I owe Loren more than I can ever repay and he will always have my loyalty. I do not want to see his authority undermined or destroyed. At the same time, I respect Finrod and I respect that he and Loren are gwedyr. I think they need to be told but away from everyone else. I think they should decide how to handle the situation. I have neither the wisdom nor the authority to do so.”

“You have wisdom enough, my friend,” Vorondur said. “I can arrange the meeting if you like and in such a manner as to not arouse suspicions.”

“If you don’t mind….”

“All part of the service, and I don’t charge extra,” Vorondur said with a grin as he stood. “Why don’t we go greet the others and don’t worry, we’ll just say you came over on a whim for a visit to see how we’re settling into our new home. You’ll stay for dinner, of course.”

“Thank you, for everything,” Daeron said sincerely.

“My pleasure. Shall we?” And with that, he opened the door and the two made their way to where the others were removing coats and boots, everyone warmly greeting Daeron and describing their walk.