25: The Dominoes Fall

“Anything?”

Legolas of Gondolin looked up from where he was crouched and shook his head at Finrod and the others standing around him.

“He came this far, but that is all I can tell you.” He stood up, looking about the clearing in the middle of the woods where the Elves liked to congregate. “I have no idea where he went from here. Sorry.”

“It is not your fault, my friend,” Finrod said. “There is no moon tonight and the stars are hidden behind clouds. I am amazed you can find any traces in the dark.”

“And it’s about to snow again,” Barahir pointed out. “We had better spread out.”

“No, that won’t do any good,” Brethorn said. “We need to be smart about this. Glorfindel is angry. He leaves the house and comes here. For how long? Did he rant and rave at the trees or sit quietly and stew? He never went to his class, so we know he did not go into town…”

“That is not necessarily so,” Alphwen pointed out. “He could have gone to any of the bars to drown his sorrows like most men. He could have gone to the Blue Petrel or the Grey Whaler or even, Eru help us, the Rusty Nail.” The Wiseman Elves in their group all shuddered.

“I take it this Rusty Nail is not a good place to go,” Finrod said with mild amusement at their reactions.

“Only if you’re feeling suicidal,” Barahir answered. “The Rusty Nail gives other dives a bad name.”

“Do you think he would go there or any other tavern?” Finda asked, looking dubious.

“It is a possibility,” Barahir replied. “Loren may have started out here, but it’s obvious he didn’t remain. There’s nothing in the woods to attract him and they’re not all that large. We would know if he or anyone else were here and I sense no one. Do any of you?”

Several Elves shook their heads.

“He could have gone to the Academy,” Elennen suggested. “Did anyone think to check there?”

“I called his office and I’ve tried reaching him on his cell but there’s no answer,” Cennanion answered.

“He might have turned it off if he did not wish to be disturbed,” Alphwen said.

“Have you ever known Loren to do that?” Barahir asked. “Has anyone thought to check with Ron and Amroth? Maybe he went over there to talk with them.”

“I confess, I had not thought of that,” Finrod admitted with some chagrin. “It is a logical assumption. If Glorfindel was in as much emotional pain as I suspect he was, he might well go to Vorondur for counseling. Just to be sure, though, I want these woods searched. Perhaps we will discover in which direction he went after he left here. Split up in groups of two or three. Barahir, contact Vorondur and find out if Glorfindel is there or was there.”

“I’ll need to go back to the house,” Barahir said. “I left my phone behind and I’m not sure we could get a signal out here anyway.”

“Then go and then come find me.”

Barahir nodded and loped off. Finrod looked around the clearing as everyone else began scattering in search of a trace of the missing ellon. “Where are you, my brother?” Finrod whispered to himself and then he sent a silent prayer winging to the heavens asking that the Valar and the One keep his heart-brother safe.

****

Elrohir was in the middle of regaling the others around the dining room table with a story of his and Elladan’s adventures while acting as guides to a group of French trappers, traders and Jesuits as they made their way into the wilds of North America during the seventeenth century.

“They thought we were natives and wanted to know to which tribe we belonged,” Elrohir told them with a grin. “Dan told them we were of the Peredhel tribe. One of the Jesuits fancied himself a linguist and tried to get us to teach him our language but we refused. They were rather disconcerted that we spoke fluent French when none of them had more than a smattering of the Algonquin tongue prevalent in that area.”

The others laughed. “And where were you, Darren, and Glorfindel at the time?” Amroth asked. “And you, my love? Were you not with them?”

“No,” Nimrodel answered. “Misty and I were back in Boston while Loren and Darren were tracking the Twins.”

They all looked at Daeron who raised an eyebrow. “Dan and Roy had the nasty habit of simply disappearing into the wilds without so much as a by-your-leave. The time Roy speaks of, they went missing for two years. Loren and I spent three months tracking them down. Finally caught up with them in New Orleans living a dissolute life, spending most of their time on one riverboat or another gambling.” He gave them a sly look.

The others looked at Roy, who returned their curious gazes with an unrepentant grin. “Loren was so angry when he found us he nearly leveled the entire city. Hurricane Katrina had nothing on him when it came to destruction.”

“It was the last time you two pulled something like that for about two centuries, as I recall,” Daeron said with a fond smile as he took a sip of his wine.

Elrohir was about to comment when the phone rang, startling them all. Vorondur frowned as he got up from the table. “I’ll get it,” he said unnecessarily, since no one else had moved to answer it. He went into the kitchen and picked up.

“Hello?... Barry!… What? No Loren never came here… When?... Have you called Stan?... The Rusty Nail! Even Loren would never go there, however he felt.”

At that point, Elrohir got up, a look of alarm on his face, and went into the kitchen. The others followed him. Vorondur looked about as they entered, shaking his head as he continued to listen to Barahir. Elrohir gestured for him to relinquish the phone.

“Barry, Roy’s here. He wants to talk with you.” He handed the phone over.

“Barry? Roy. What’s this about Loren?... How long ago?... Damn! He’s been gone that long? I know he was upset… Sarah and I overheard the argument between him and Helena… but… okay… look, he might have gone for a run. He sometimes does that when he’s really upset. There’s that road behind the college that leads up into the mountains. He likes to take runs there… Oh, if he were really upset, he might run for hours but I agree that he would never have forgotten his class. At the very least he would’ve called the Center and canceled it… Yeah, that’s what I figure… okay… I’ll run over to the Academy just to be sure. I’ll call you either way. Thanks, Barry.”

He hung up the phone with a grimace, addressing them all. “Barry says Finrod’s ordered a search of the woods behind the house. They know for sure he went there but he obviously went somewhere else afterwards. He’s not answering his phone.”

“That could mean anything,” Vorondur said.

“Maybe,” Elrohir allowed, not entirely convinced. “I’m going to run over to the Academy just to be sure. Barry says he and Conan will check all the bars.”

“You and I can do that as well,” Amroth said, turning to Daeron, who nodded in agreement.

“I’m going to call Dave Michaelson and Carl Graff,” Vorondur said. “If Loren’s been missing since the argument, something is definitely wrong.”

“You don’t think he’s in any serious trouble, do you?” Holly asked worriedly.

“With Loren, you never know,” Vorondur replied, shaking his head as he picked up the phone and began punching numbers.

“I’ll call you,” Elrohir said as he headed for the front door.

“I’m coming with you,” Serindë told him.

“We’ll make better time if we just hoof it,” Amroth said to Daeron and the two of them grabbed their coats and ran out the door, waving at Elrohir and Serindë as they went.

Inside, Vorondur was speaking into the phone. “That’s right, Dave, he’s been missing since about four this afternoon. No one’s seen hide nor hair of him and he never showed for his class at the Education Center. Our best trackers can find no trace. He went into the woods, that much we know, but after that it’s anyone’s guess. Darren and Amroth are checking some of the bars. Barry and Conan, too. Roy’s gone over to the college to check there… Okay… thanks… No. I’m heading over to Edhellond. Finrod’s coordinating things from that end… I’ll let you know. Thanks, Dave.”

He hung up and looked at his wife and Nimrodel. “Dave’s putting out an APB and he’ll contact Carl. I’m heading for Edhellond.”

“We’ll stay here, of course, out of the way,” Nimrodel said somewhat acerbically.

Vorondur raised an eyebrow. “If you wish to come, by all means, say so. I have neither the time nor the patience for female histrionics.”

“Ron,” Ercassë warned, giving him a frown.

Vorondur merely shook his head in disgust and opened the door leading to the mudroom, leaving the two ellith to themselves. They heard the garage door opening and then the sound of a car engine turning over, followed by the crunch of tires on the snow as the garage door closed.

Ercassë sighed. “Let’s clear the table and make some tea,” she suggested. “I think this is going to be a long night.”

Nimrodel nodded and soon they were clearing away the interrupted dinner, softly commenting on the turn of events, wondering what had happened to Glorfindel, hoping all was well but fearing the worst.

****

Elladan stretched, doing a few knee bends to get the kinks out of his body. Vardamir looked on in amusement. The two were in the kitchen of the Urgent Care Unit, taking a break after having spent a tense hour or so dealing with an overdose victim, now resting quietly in one of the wards and being carefully monitored. “You are too tense, my friend,” he said, speaking Quenya. “You need to learn to keep your hröa loose even when you are in a tense situation. Surely, you know this from your warrior training.”

“Yes, I do,” Elladan said with a nod, replying in the same language. “I guess I’m still not used to this. It’s been too long since Roy and I have acted as healers. Atto used to describe a healer as a warrior fighting a different type of enemy than orcs and such.”

“Your atar is very wise and he is one of Lord Irmo’s most trusted healers,” Vardamir said with a smile.

Elladan gave him a hungry look. “You know him?”

“But of course,” Vardamir said, looking surprised. “I was one of his tutors.”

“Tutors?! Atto?” Elladan’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

The other ellon laughed. “Do not be amazed, child. Your atar might well have been the most gifted healer in Middle-earth, but he never had training under a Vala or his Maiar. There were things about the healing arts Elerondo did not know and so after a sufficient time had passed as he rested in Lórien, recovering from all that he had endured here, Lord Irmo invited him to become an apprentice.”

Elladan smirked. “Atto as an apprentice. I bet that suggestion went over well.”

Vardamir chuckled. “He was most resistant to the idea. Said he was far too old to be wearing an apprentice’s tabard, that he was a master healer whether any of us Valinórean snobs recognized it or not. Told Lord Irmo to take a flying leap, or words to that effect.”

Eladan gave the older healer a knowing look. “How long did that argument last?”

“Hmm…. it’s difficult to put it in words. Time runs differently in Aman than here, but I would say the equivalent of about a century or so before he gave in.” Vardamir gave his young colleague a wide grin. “Lord Irmo can be very persistent. Just ask Laurendil.”

Elladan was about to comment when Kyle Stoner walked into the kitchen, looking grim. “We just got word. EMT is bringing in a mugging victim. He was apparently found half-dead stuffed in a dumpster behind the gas station over on Evans. He’s in a bad way from what dispatch says. Dan, check to see that room three is ready. Mir” — he pronounced it as ‘meer’ — “get ready to type the victim when they bring him in. You remember how it’s done?”

“Yes, I do,” Vardamir said with a nod as the three left the kitchen. Elladan went to where the examining rooms were, entering number three while Vardamir quickly found gloves and put them on then checked to see he had the equipment he needed to draw blood for typing. Kyle was issuing other orders to the staff as they prepared themselves for the new arrival. Less than five minutes later they could hear the sirens and shortly thereafter they saw the flashing lights as the ambulance pulled up to the door. Immediately, people ran outside with a gurney while Vardamir stood by ready to take the blood sample. He watched dispassionately as the EMT personnel competently brought the victim out and placed him on the gurney, strapping him in. One of the nurses was wrapping a blood pressure cuff on the victim’s arm even as they were wheeling him inside. Vardamir, waiting by the door, stepped in, readying the needle, but now that he was closer and could get a good look at the person lying on the gurney, he froze.

“Mir!” Kyle yelled as he headed for him. “What are you—holy God! Is that—?”

“Glorfindel!” Elladan screamed as he ran to them.

Vardamir snapped out of his shock, his healer’s training taking over, grabbing the younger Elf and without thinking he began issuing orders, no longer the eager learner but a seasoned healer who had trained under Lord Irmo himself and had been the Noldóran’s personal battle surgeon. “Kyle, get David Michaelson here on the double, then call Edhellond and speak with Finrod. Tell him I need every healer here ASAP. Dan? Dan! Snap out of it. I need you to stay focused.”

Elladan glared at him, his eyes dark with fury. “How? Who did this to him? They threw him in a dumpster?”

“Questions for later,” Vardamir said, giving him a slight shake. “I want you to get the OR ready. Go on. There’s little time.”

The younger Elf hesitated for a split second and then nodded, his expression cold. “Rachel, with me,” he called out to one of the nurses as he turned and headed for the OR. Even as he was running down the hall he was pulling out his phone and speed dialing it. “Roy…” was all Vardamir heard as he turned his attention to the unconscious Glorfindel. In the short amount of time he had been dealing with the son of Elrond, the Mortals had transferred the ellon to the examining room and had hooked him up to the various monitors. Vardamir took a quick look at them.

“We don’t know what the baseline is for an Elf,” one of the male nurses on duty said to him. “What’s normal for you guys?”

Vardamir gave him a humorless smile as he started his examination, using both conventional and Elvish methods to determine the extent of Glorfindel’s injuries while an IV drip was being set up. “That is debatable,” he said, then shook his head as he lifted one of Glorfindel’s eyelids, shining a light into his eye and then doing the same thing with the other. “Pupils are dilated.” Now he ran his hands, palms down, along Glorfindel’s body, not quite touching it.” There’s internal bleeding, possibly a ruptured spleen. We’ll need to go in.” Glancing at the monitor that recorded the Elf’s vitals, he frowned. “His BP is too low. He had to have bled out but I don’t see any wounds.”

“Here,” one of the nurses said, lifting Glorfindel’s left arm. “God! Did he slit his own wrist?”

“No, but someone else did,” Vardamir said grimly as he looked upon the cut, now crusted over but still seeping. Then he began issuing orders just as Kyle came in.

“The police are on their way. There was no answer at Edhellond. I don’t have anyone’s cell phone number.”

“Dan was calling Roy,” Vardamir said. “Roy will see that everyone else is told.”

“Do we know what his blood type is? Would it even be compatible with any of ours?” Kyle asked.

“I can generate the necessary blood production but I can’t do that and operate at the same time.”

“Well, you’re not operating anyway. I will,” Kyle said sharply. “You’re not qualified to….”

Vardamir gave him a cold look and several Mortals, including Kyle, took a step back at his expression. “No Mortal will touch him, not even you, Kyle. In this, you have no say. Now, I need to contact Finrod. Keep him stable in the meantime.” And with that, he took a few steps back, out of everyone’s way, and to their amazement he simply stood there with his eyes closed for several minutes. Then he opened them. “Finrod is on his way with the others. I will not operate until they get here. Kyle, if you wish, you may watch, but do not interfere.”

“Why thank you, lord and master,” Kyle retorted sardonically.

Whatever Vardamir meant to say to that went unsaid as all the monitors started going wild. “Code Blue!” someone called out and immediately mildly controlled chaos reigned as people scrambled to get the cart and others got out of the way. Kyle began massaging Glorfindel’s heart and Vardamir grabbed the paddles.

“…four hundred. Clear,” the technician called out.

“Clear,” Vardamir echoed and Kyle immediately stepped out of the way as the Elf applied the paddles. Glorfindel’s body arched and they all looked at the monitors, still flat-lined.

“Again,” Vardamir called and they went through the routine a second time, all of them standing around impatiently while the machine powered up.

“Clear,” the technician called out.

Vardamir applied the paddles again, glancing at the monitor.

“We’ve got bee-vib,” the technician said and there was a general release of tension throughout. Vardamir handed the paddles to a nurse and turned his attention to Glorfindel. “Stay with us, meldonya,” he whispered in Quenya, stroking the ellon’s cheek.

“Can’t the Maiar help?” Kyle asked. “Why would they allow this?”

“For the same reason they allow everything else,” Vardamir replied. “Free will.” He turned to look at the door, his acute hearing already picking up the sound of running feet and voices he recognized.

It was an even bet as to who had gotten to the hospital first, Dave Michaelson or Finrod, for they both stood at the door.

“What the hell?” Dave exclaimed in shocked anger as he spied the still unconscious Glorfindel, lying there white as a sheet.

Finrod went white and his eyes darkened with fury.

“No time for that, David,” Vardamir said. “Findaráto!” He then gabbled something in rapid Quenya, describing Glorfindel’s condition, explaining what needed to be done. As he spoke, Finrod’s demeanor became clinical, his eyes cleared of the anger.

“Laurendil, Manwen and Eärnur are right behind me,” he said. “Where is Elladan?”

“Prepping OR,” Vardamir replied. “I heard him calling Elrohir.”

Finrod nodded. “Then let us prepare ourselves.” He turned to Dave. “I want the place where he was found sealed off until my people can get to it.”

“Your people!” Dave exclaimed angrily, giving him a scowl. “This is a police matter. We’ll handle it. And for your information, the place is already sealed off and a forensics team on its way. It became a crime scene the moment it was called in, though we didn’t know it was an Elf who was a victim. That was never reported to Dispatch.”

“Tell your forensics people to touch nothing until my people have had a chance to examine the area,” Finrod insisted. “Do not argue with me, David Michaelson. I am not in the mood.”

Something in Finrod’s expression gave the Mortal pause and the protest died on his lips. He nodded brusquely. “Fine. While your people are mucking up the crime scene I’ll have my people start looking for witnesses. That gas station is in a bad part of town. What the hell was he doing there and how did he get like this?”

“All good questions, but the answers will have to wait,” Vardamir said.

“Is he going to pull through?” Dave asked.

“That remains to be seen,” Vardamir replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have to prep for OR.” With that, he issued orders and soon Glorfindel was being taken to the OR while Kyle offered to show Finrod where the scrub room was.

Dave Michaelson watched them go then turned to one of the officers who had followed him. “Call Tregarth. Tell him to stay clear of the crime scene until the Elves get there. We’ll let our alien overlords play with the evidence first.”

The officer gave him a tight smile and a salute, already grabbing his phone as he wandered away. Dave turned to the other officer. “I want a guard on Loren at all times, assuming he makes it through surgery. See to it.”

“Yessir,” the young man said, saluting, and then Dave was left alone to wander back into the waiting room. Even as he entered the area with the intention of giving the sheriff a call, several Elves came rushing in demanding an explanation. Dave held up his hands as they surrounded him.

“I don’t know anything for sure,” he told them. “All I know is that they’ve taken him to OR.”

Vardamir showed up just then, giving them a nod. “Good. You’re here. Laurendil, Manwen, I know you’ve not done any OR work here yet, but I’ll need you both. You, too, Eärnur. Glorfindel is going to need a great deal of blood and I need you to generate blood production.”

“While you are operating on him?” Eärnur asked in confusion. “I could not possibly provide enough blood for him that way.”

“I know. We’ll have to risk using Mortal blood to supplement what you cannot generate from Glorfindel’s marrow. But come, let’s get scrubbed up. There’s little time to lose. He’s bleeding internally and….”

He began rattling off Glorfindel’s medical condition as the others followed him, leaving Dave alone again. He speed-dialed a number and on the first ring it was picked up.

“Carl, Dave. He’s in a bad way. Internal bleeding, that sort of thing… Yeah, I got a quick look before they sent him to OR. Looks like whoever did this was quite brutal and knew how to inflict the most damage… No, I’ve got it covered, but have your people keep their eyes and ears open. It’s possible someone might boast of ‘doing in the Elf’. You know how these people are. They can’t help bragging about their latest kills… Yeah, later.” He closed down the call and then punched another number. This time he had to wait through three rings before it was answered.

“Hi, honey…. Yeah, it’s Loren. They’ve got him in OR. I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on things… No, don’t bother. I’ll pick something up here at the hospital… I’ll probably be up all night, so don’t wait up. As soon as Loren’s out of surgery I’ll be heading for the station… Yeah, I love you, too. Give the kids a kiss for me… Bye.”

At that moment, more Elves arrived and Dave was once again surrounded by people demanding answers to their questions. He noticed one of the ellith appeared particularly distraught and vaguely recalled seeing her at the housewarming party with Loren. Helena was her name, or at least the name she now went by. He couldn’t recall off-hand what her real name was. Two of the other ellith in the group were practically holding her up. Dave turned his attention to the others, giving them a terse explanation of what was happening. Even as he was speaking, Vorondur, Daeron and Amroth arrived with Elrohir and Serindë. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Dave couldn’t help grinning at the nonplused reactions of the other Mortals in the waiting room watching the invasion of the Elves. Among them he noticed Daniel Cohen, the rabbi at Temple Beth El, no doubt there in his role as a hospital chaplain. Dave knew that some of the ministers in the town took turns acting as chaplains.

Elrohir, ignoring everyone, bore down upon Helyanwë, his eyes blazing with fury as he grabbed her by the shoulders and began shaking her. “You drove him away! You’re responsible for this! If he dies, so help me—”

“Roy! No. Stop it!” Serindë cried out, as she and Dave attempted to pull him back while several of the Elves began shouting, some of them stepping in front of Helyanwë to protect her. Vorondur grabbed a still raging Elrohir and slapped him soundly a couple of times across his face. Elrohir went completely still, his breathing harsh as he fought to get himself under control.

“Enough!” Vorondur shouted. “All of you stop!”

The silence that followed was almost deafening. “Barry, Conan, take Roy outside. Throw him into a snow bank if you have to, but don’t let him back in until he’s calmer.” The two ellyn grabbed Elrohir and began pulling him away. “Go with them, Daughter,” Vorondur ordered Serindë and she went. Vorondur looked at the others, noting which of the Valinórean Elves had surrounded Helyanwë, while the Wiseman Elves were huddled to one side. There was a small group of Valinórean Elves who were standing apart, as if they did not wish to get involved. The Three Amigos and Nell were there, along with the three Reborn, Brethorn, Beleg and Edrahil, and, surprisingly enough, or perhaps not so surprising, Valandur, who gave Vorondur a brittle smile.

Before Vorondur could say anything more, Dave chose that moment to speak, his tone dripping with scorn. “My people are cordoning off the area where he was found. The great and powerful Wizard of Oz has ordered me not to send in forensics until you lot have had a chance to sniff the place out. When this is all over, someone better sit Finrod down and explain to him the facts of life. You have one hour to do whatever you need to do before I send my people in and God help you all if anyone tries to stop me. In case it’s slipped your Elvish minds, I’m the law here, along with Carl Graff, and you had better remember that. Ron, I’m placing a guard on Loren until this is all sorted out. I’ll let you know if we discover anything and I trust you will return the favor.”

“Of course, Dave. That goes without saying,” Vorondur replied smoothly. “Where was he found?”

“Over on Evans,” Dave answered. “Conrad will show your people where,” he added, nodding to the officer who had been standing off to one side waiting for instructions. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with Dr. Stoner.”

Without giving anyone time to reply, he strode away, issuing orders to Conrad who saluted. Vorondur looked at his fellow Elves, his expression grave. “Liam and Lance, you and Bela go with Officer Conrad and see what you can learn.” The two Legolases and Beleg nodded and went to the Mortal, quietly introducing themselves. As the four left, Elladan came down the hall.

“Ron, where’s Roy? We’re going to need all the healers, including you.”

“He’s outside cooling off,” Vorondur said. “Barry and Conan are with him as is Sarah.”

Elladan raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he went to the entrance and stepped outside. A moment later he returned with Elrohir who refused to look at anyone as he listened to his brother quietly explain Glorfindel’s condition, speaking in Latin of all things, much to Vorondur’s amusement. Everyone watched them as they headed down the hall to scrub up.

Vorondur turned and addressed the other Elves. “I suggest you all get comfortable. It’s going to be a long night.” With that, he left and followed the Twins, leaving everyone else to wait and worry.

****

Words are Quenya:

Hröa: Body.

Elerondo: Elrond.