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Elf Academy 3: The Enemy Within  by Fiondil

78: Gareth Confesses

Gareth stayed until Wednesday, leaving early that morning, hoping to make it back to Fairbanks by mid-afternoon.

The night before, Daeron had given him an update on the Yukon River. “Latest report says the Yukon has receded and the bridge is being repaired. You can cross it, but it’s definitely a one-car-at-a-time sort of situation. You might want to wait another couple of days.”

But Gareth did not wish to wait and so here he was, hugging a tearful Nielluin who had come over from the college to see him off. Others were also there to wish him a good journey.

Valandur handed him a small booklet. “Here is a Tengwar primer with some simple sentences for practice. Daeron says he’ll post some additional lessons online for you.”

Daeron nodded holding out a disk. “I’ve created a program with some help from the programming wizards over at the college that will let you write in Tengwar using a regular keyboard. Here’s a copy so you can load it onto your own computer. It’s easy to use so you shouldn’t have any trouble. You’ll be able to write in Tengwar as well as in English. The lessons will have you translate the Sindarin as well as write Sindarin and once you’ve become proficient with that, then I’ll send you lessons on Quenya. You should try to convince Gwyn to do the lessons as well. You can load the program on both your laptops.”

“I don’t think I’ll have any trouble convincing him, thank you,” Gareth said as he accepted the disk.

“Call or email us as soon as you get in,” Glorfindel said, shaking his hand.

“I will,” Gareth promised.

“And do not delay in telling your brother what has happened,” Finrod interjected, giving the younger ellon a knowing look, for when he‘d been asked, Gareth had admitted that he still hadn’t told Gwyn about Nielluin even though the brothers had talked via Skype the night before. “You cannot keep such news from him for long.”

“Yes, I know. It’s just that I don’t know what to say or how to say it and I’m not sure how he’ll take it.”

“You tell him the truth,” Finrod replied. “Let him handle it or not as he will. That is out of your control, but you need to tell him and then you need to tell your parents.”

“Yes sir,” Gareth said somewhat dejectedly.

Finrod gave him a sympathetic smile and a hug. “Travel safe,” he said.

Gareth gave Nielluin one last hug and a chaste kiss and then he was climbing into his car and was soon waving to them all as he drove away. Nielluin sighed, allowing Finrod to put an arm around her shoulders in comfort.

“You will see him again, child,” he promised. “Now, you should return to the college.”

“Yes, Uncle,” she said and wished everyone a good day as she trudged away, definitely not walking on top of the snow but leaving solid footprints.

Finrod watched her go with a concerned look. Glorfindel gave him a hug. “She’ll be fine,” he assured him. “Now, let’s get back inside before we freeze certain parts of our anatomy off.”

“I would not mind some more coffee before I head for work,” Finrod said as he allowed himself to be drawn back inside the house, “and maybe some more pumpkin pancakes.” He flashed Glorfindel a wide smile.

“I’m sure Daeron won’t mind whipping up some more,” Glorfindel said with a grin of his own.

****

Gareth breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the sign for Livengood, knowing that he was almost home. It was nearly three in the afternoon. As Daeron had predicted, crossing the bridge over the Yukon had been an adventure in and of itself. Other vehicles, mostly trucks, were lined up on either side waiting to cross one at a time while a construction crew worked on shoring up the pilings. It therefore took nearly an hour before Gareth was able to cross over. Now the lights of Fairbanks shone in the distance and he was glad to see them.

When he reached home, Gwyn was there to greet him. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” Gareth asked speaking Welsh as was their habit when they were alone.

Gwyn gave him a diffident shrug as he helped him with his luggage. “I took the afternoon off, knowing you would be here,” he replied in the same language. “I didn’t want you to come home to an empty house.”

Gareth gave him a shrewd look and then grinned. “Missed me, did you?”

Gwyn sniffed. “Not in the least. I rather enjoyed the quiet.”

“Yeah, sure,” Gareth retorted, clearly unconvinced.

“Would you like some tea?” Gwyn asked, changing the subject. “I made scones, too.”

“That sounds grand,” Gareth said and the two headed into the kitchen where Gwyn fussed about with the tea paraphernalia while Gareth took a moment to call Edhellond as he had promised assuring them that he had arrived home safely. As he hung up, he said to Gwyn, “Everyone says hello,” and then went to the cupboard to pull out plates and mugs and began setting the dining room table.

“So tell me about Wiseman,” Gwyn called out from the kitchen.

“I’ve told you about Wiseman,” Gareth countered.

“Yes, but I want more details about the Elves there. Other than Finrod and Glorfindel, you’ve not mentioned any of the others except in passing. What is your impression of them as a whole?”

“Well, there seems to be two groups, the Wiseman Elves, as they are called, and the Valinórean Elves, those Elves who came with Finrod from Valinor.” Gareth wandered back into the kitchen. “They outnumber the others. The Wiseman Elves seem almost… mortal in the way they interact with others, much like you and I. In fact, Finrod even coined a phrase for us: mortal born. Can you believe that?”

Gwyn gave him a quizzical look. “What does that mean, though? We’re not Mortals.”

“No, but according to Finrod and the others, we act as if we were. You know how bored I get when I don’t have anything constructive to do.”

Gwyn nodded as he removed the kettle from the stove to pour the boiling water into the porcelain tea pot.

“Yeah, well, Finrod called me on it, saying I was thinking in mortal terms and not in elvish ones.” He paused and shrugged. “Thinking about it, I guess he’s right, but even so, it sort of hurt being accused of thinking like a Mortal.”

Gwyn gave him a puzzled look. “And do Elves think differently from Mortals?”

“I guess, at least with respect to how they see time. Even the Wiseman Elves seem to think more in centuries than in years.”

“Which makes little sense,” Gwyn said as he brought the tea to the table while Gareth carried the plate of scones along with some clotted cream and raspberry jam. “Mortals can’t think that far ahead. Hell, most of them can’t seem to think beyond next week, never mind next year. It just doesn’t pay to have a longer perspective than most Mortals when you’re dealing with them on a daily basis as we do. Maybe it’s different for these other Elves. I don’t know.”

“Well, anyway, there seems to be a debate going on between them as to whether our outlook is better than theirs. I suppose they have a point. As it was constantly pointed out to me, no one, not even the Valar, know just when the Dagor Dagorath will commence, so it makes sense to plan for the long haul, so to speak. We may be at it for centuries, training the descendants of the people who are fighting in Gwaith-en-Angbor now.”

“Yeah, that thought has crossed my mind more than once,” Gwyn admitted. “Shall I be Mother?” he asked rhetorically even as he was pouring the tea into their mugs. “I look at our fighters, especially those who are married with children, and I wonder what it will feel like to be still living here in Fairbanks fifty years from now and you and I are training the grandkids of people we know and love today. I find I do not look forward to the prospect. I think it will hurt too much. Remember Acre?”

He gave Gareth a bleak look and Gareth put down his tea mug and rose to stand behind Gwyn and wrap his arms around him. “Yes, I remember,” he whispered, kissing the top of his brother’s head. “How can I possibly forget? But that was then and this is now. At least we know we won’t have to endure this alone.” He straightened and resumed his seat.

For a few minutes the brothers sat in companionable silence, enjoying their tea. Gwyn’s eyes had a far-away look to them and Gareth knew he was remembering the past. Gareth wondered when it would be a good time to tell Gwyn about him and Nell. He knew that the longer he delayed the harder it would get and then eventually Gwyn would learn the truth from someone else, Daeron perhaps or Glorfindel, casually mentioning his brother and Nell in the same sentence, believing Gwyn already knew the truth. He did not want that to happen.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Um… something happened while I was in Wiseman.”

Gwyn’s gaze focused on him and he gave him an enquiring look. “Oh? What?”

“I… uh… I met someone.”

“By that, I am assuming you don’t mean meeting the locals.”

Gareth shook his head. “I didn’t mean it!” he exclaimed suddenly.

Gwyn narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t mean what? Gareth, what is the matter? Did you do something Mam and Da would disapprove of?”

“Well, not exactly,” Gareth temporized. “It’s… well… there’s this elleth…”

“Oh, that’s a relief. I thought for a moment you were going to say you’d fallen for a Mortal Woman.”

“I’m not that daft,” Gareth protested. “Besides, we’ve both been cured of that particular urge, if I recall.”

“And you would be correct. So, you met an elleth and…”

“And we’re married… sort of.”

“You’re what?! But Misty said—”

“Whoa! Misty? What do you mean by that, Brother?” Now Gareth was glaring at his older brother, giving him a suspicious look. “Do you mean you know about Nell and me already and you’ve been pretending—”

“I’ve been waiting for you to tell me,” Gwyn shot back. “There’s a difference.”

“So what did Misty tell you about us and since when have you been speaking with her anyway? You never said.”

“That’s because it’s none of your business,” Gwyn said somewhat primly.

“But my love life is yours?”

“Hey! I promised Mam to look out for you, remember?”

“When I was ten, yes, but I haven’t needed to be looked out for for a very long time, Gwyn. Stop treating me as if I were still an elfling.”

Gwyn sat back and said nothing for a moment or two while Gareth fumed. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” he finally said, sounding defensive to Gareth’s ears rather than apologetic. “Misty and I’ve been exchanging emails and Skyping one another for a couple of weeks now. We both felt attracted to one another, though she keeps insisting she’s not interested in anything romantic since she considers herself already married, though technically she’s been a widow for umpteen ages. Still, she hasn’t brushed me off completely, so I think there’s some hope for us, but right now I want to know what you mean by you being married sort of. How can you be sort of married? That’s like being a little pregnant.”

Gareth nearly choked on the scone he was eating and had to drink some tea before he was able to answer his brother. “On Sunday, Finrod’s son and niece came for dinner. They are both living on campus at the college, taking classes, but they come over to Edhellond on Sundays for dinner. I was being introduced to Finrod’s son and his two gwedyr who are also attending college. The other Elves refer to them as youngsters, though they’re older than our parents. Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen — they go by the names Lawrence, Cal and Alan now — are also referred to as the Three Amigos, though no one would tell me why. Anyway, we’re in the library chatting when Finrod’s niece, Nielluin — and she goes by Nell now — walks in and Finrod starts to introduce us. As soon as I gazed into her eyes, something happened. I still can’t explain it or describe it but it was almost as if a missing piece of my soul had suddenly been found and apparently Nell felt the same way because before either one of us knew it we were… um… well… kissing. And I think if we hadn’t had an audience we would’ve been throwing off our clothes and coupling right then and there.”

“You’re bonded, like Mam and Da?” Gwyn asked in disbelief.

“Not exactly,” Gareth amended. “Everyone from Finrod on down says they can sense the bond between us but it’s incomplete or something and it won’t be a true bond until we consummate our union.”

“So you’re married but not married?”

“I guess. They all were talking about a betrothal and insisting that Nell and I can’t marry until after she’s completed her college courses. She’s taking a certificate course in childcare with the intent of working at a preschool when she’s done. Finrod insists her studies come first so the earliest we can consider being married is next year some time.”

He blushed. “When I complained that a whole year was so long, they all looked at me as if I’d grown a second head or something. That’s when Finrod coined the phrase ‘mortal born’.”

“Hmph. Still think it’s a silly phrase and he has no right to pass judgment on us. None of them do.”

“It’s hard to think that we’re no longer the superior ones,” Gareth said, nodding in agreement. “I felt so young around them. Even Nell is older than I am, though Finrod insists that you and I have had more life experiences than she or his own son. Still, I’m with you on that. They don’t have any right to judge. At the same time, I think we can learn from them even as they learn from us.”

“Would they even want to?” Gwyn gave him a skeptical look.

Gareth shrugged. “Both Finrod and Glorfindel insisted that we can teach the Valinórean Elves much about living in this day and age, probably even more so than the Wiseman Elves, since, except for Serindë, all of them remember times when Elves lived in Middle-earth and even ruled over the Mortals who resided in Beleriand even if they did not do so later. I don’t know. Oh, and Daeron gave me this computer program that will allow us to write in Tengwar using our laptop keyboards.”

“But you and I can’t read Sindarin or even write in it,” Gwyn objected.

“Which is the whole point. Along with the computer program, I was also given some lessons on writing and reading Tengwar and Daeron said he would send us more lessons later and we also should start learning Quenya and he will send us lessons for that as well.”

“Hmm… why do they think we would be interested?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I refuse to be bested by mere Mortals.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that in Wiseman many of the Mortals are pretty fluent in both Sindarin and Quenya and can read and write in both languages. You don’t want to be looked upon by Mortals as an illiterate fool, do you?” Gareth cast his brother an impish grin.

Gwyn raised an eyebrow. “No. I suppose I don’t. Okay. As soon as you get unpacked and settled, we’ll load the program on our computers. First history lessons and now this. Are you sure we can teach these people anything worth knowing?”

“Yes, Gwyn, I am,” Gareth said in all seriousness. “But first we need to show them that we’re just as good as they are, if not better. I do not like feeling like a country bumpkin from the hicks.”

“Yes, I agree with you on that. Okay. So go unpack and then let’s plan to go out to dinner and celebrate your almost marriage. Was there a formal betrothal made?”

“No. Finrod says we have to tell our parents first. I get the impression that when they come for the wedding that’s when the betrothal will become official.”

“Oh, Lord! Do you think we can delay telling them until they get here?”

“I have no objections, but we had better tell them straight away as soon as they arrive before they meet the others or we… I’ll be in deep trouble with Nell, never mind Finrod.”

Gwyn grinned. “And maybe by then I’ll have convinced Misty that marrying me is not a betrayal of her love for her first husband, who, after all, was a Mortal.”

“Snob,” Gareth said good-naturedly.

Gwyn chuckled as he stood to clear the table of dirty dishes. “Go unpack. I’ll call Geraldo’s and make a reservation for seven. Okay with you?”

“Seven is fine. I’ll put the disk on the table here and you can load it onto your laptop while I unpack. Daeron assured me that it’s self-explanatory and we shouldn’t have a problem loading it to our systems.”

“Good.”

Gareth went back to the front hallway, pulling out the computer disk and the primer from one of his bags and returning to the dining room, placing them on the table before going back to retrieve his luggage. A half an hour later, they both had the program loaded to their respective laptops, playing with the program to see how it worked and looking at the primer Valandur had drawn up. They continued to play until it was time to leave for the restaurant where Gwyn insisted on buying dinner, telling the waitress that his brother had just gotten engaged. Much to Gareth’s embarrassment and Gwyn’s amusement, nearby patrons, having overheard Gwyn’s announcement, started clapping and offering their congratulations.

“We should’ve called the gang to celebrate,” Gwyn said after everyone had calmed down.

“Time enough for that when we get together tomorrow night,” Gareth said and then busied himself with looking over the menu, trying to decide what he wanted to eat.

Some hours later, back home, Gareth sat in bed with the laptop, Skyping Nielluin, telling her about Gwyn and Misty. Nielluin’s eyes widened.

“She’s said nothing to anyone as far as I know.”

“Probably doesn’t want anyone to find out just yet and Gwyn says she’s still refusing his plea to court her, but he thinks he can convince her it’s okay. I hope so. I would like to see my brother as happy as I am at this moment. I despaired of ever finding someone to love, someone who would not grow old and die on me as all my Mortal friends have done over the centuries.”

“I had many suitors back in Aman,” Nielluin admitted, “but Nana never approved of any of them and Ada said he was unsure I was meant to marry anyone from Aman. I don’t think it was actual foresight, just a, what is that phrase, gut feeling? Maybe not even that, just a wish. He’s going to be surprised when he finds out, if he ever does.”

“What about your naneth? How will she react, assuming she ever learns of us?”

“I do not think she will take the news well, but Ada will set her straight. He’s the only one who can, except Uncle Finrod.”

“Well, unless the Maiar whom I am told are watching over you go running off to Aman to tell tales, I’m not sure how they would find out, and even if they did, we’re not likely to see them so I guess as soon as your Uncle deems it proper for us to wed, we will and that will be that.”

“One can only hope,” Nielluin said. “I should shut down. I try to accommodate my suitemates’ needs as much as possible and I know talking with you this late at night can disturb them.”

“Are you too bored, sitting around while they sleep?”

“Oh, no! I have plenty to read and if I get too bored the Three Amigos are just down the hall and I can visit with them.”

“I do wish you would tell me why you call them that.”

Nielluin smiled. “Perhaps someday, but not today. Good night, my love. Until tomorrow at the same time?”

“Tomorrow,” Gareth agreed and blew her a kiss which she reciprocated. Gareth shut down the laptop and stowed it safely away before returning to bed and sighed, wondering how he was ever going to explain this to his parents. Six hours later, when he woke to get ready for work, he still had no answer.

****

In the other bedroom, Gwyn was speaking with Misty. “You should have seen the expression on his face when he realized I already knew about him and Nell,” he said with a chuckle. “I didn’t know if he wanted to throttle me or hug me.”

Misty laughed. “He is a dear. He and Nell are so cute together.”

“But why didn’t you tell me they were bonded or almost so? You just said they were attracted to one another.”

On the screen he saw Misty shrug and give him an impish smile. “Well, some things should be told in person and by the person most affected.”

“So does this mean I have to come up to Wiseman to plead my case to court you?” Gwyn asked with a sniff.

“Perhaps,” Misty said coyly. “You’ll be coming up in a few weeks anyway for the wedding. We’ll talk then. What about your parents? Have you convinced them to accept the invitation?”

“Not quite. Da can’t wait to come, but Mam seems more ambivalent about meeting all of you. I’m not sure what the deal is. I think they both suffered at the hands of their families when they refused to Sail with them, but I don’t know for sure. They never speak of it. Maybe Finrod or Ron even can convince them to talk. Anyway, between me, Gareth and Da, I’m sure we can convince Mam to come.”

“I hope so. I would like to meet them both, we all would. Some of us, like Barry and Alfa, might even know them or know of their families.”

Gwyn nodded. “That would be grand.” He stole a look at the time on the computer. “Well, I hate to cut this short, but I need a couple of hours of sleep before I face tomorrow. There’s a staff meeting first thing and Mortals can’t seem to focus on the matter at hand for very long so it’s going to be a very long meeting, I’m sure. I need my strength to deal with it.”

“Mortal born, as Finrod would say,” Misty responded, giving him a bright smile to take the sting out of her words.

“Perhaps,” Gwyn allowed, frowning slightly. “But what choice did we have? I don’t think we could have survived with our sanity intact otherwise. You, at least, had five other Elves to offer you support. Gareth and I have had only each other.”

“There was a time when Della and I were alone, struggling to survive,” Misty said. “But you’re right. What sustained us were our memories of who we once were and the other Elves whom we knew. You’re right that you didn’t have that. I do not disparage you, Gwyn. I admire you and Gareth and even your parents for surviving as you have. As far as I’m concerned, you have nothing of which to be ashamed. Both Finrod and Glorfindel think you and Gareth can teach the Valinórean Elves how to survive in this world.”

“Whatever. Let’s discuss it some other time. What are you doing tomorrow? Anything exciting?”

“Well, Della’s ultrasound appointment is tomorrow. We’ll get to see the twins. She still wants to have one of the Maiar return to Valinor with a copy to show everyone there.”

Gwyn chuckled. “I would love to be a fly on the wall if that ever happened.”

“So would we all,” Misty assured him.

“Well, see if you can send us a copy. We’d love to see them, too.”

“I will. Goodnight, Gwyn.”

“Night, Misty-love.” Gwyn disconnected the call and then decided to play with the Tengwar program for a moment, spelling out Mithrellas’ name and his own to see how they looked. Only when he happened to have to get up to use the bathroom did he realize he’d been playing with the program for nearly two hours. He shook his head in disbelief and shut down the laptop. Five minutes later he was weaving dreams, wondering how he could convince Misty to marry him. Three hours later, when he woke to get ready for work, he still had no answer.





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