93: Meeting the ap Hywels

In the end, Glorfindel invited Helyanwë, Daeron and Melyanna to come with him and Finrod to Fairbanks. “I think we could all do with a break and this will give you two ellith an opportunity to see more of the mortal world. Finrod, I wish Amarië were here for you.”

“As do I,” Finrod said, “but do not worry for me. I will drive and you four can spend the trip visiting with one another.”

“But only until we get to Livengood,” Glorfindel said. “After that, I’ll take over. You’re not ready for driving in the big city yet.”

So it was decided and early Tuesday morning, they set off with good wishes from everyone. Finrod drove through the town and onto the access road to the highway, following Glorfindel’s directions. After that, Glorfindel’s only advice was to stay around fifty. “And don’t be afraid to go slower than that if you feel you have no control at fifty,” he said. “I would rather get to Fairbanks later than planned then not get there at all.”

Finrod nodded and they settled in for the long drive, the ellith admiring the passing scenery with the green grass and spring flowers blooming. Once they saw a brown bear with two cubs in the distance and a herd of elk went bounding over the road, forcing them to stop for a bit. At the Arctic Circle they all got out to stretch their legs, watching in amusement as a small group of Mortals took turns taking pictures of themselves in front of the sign marking the Circle.

When they reached the bridge crossing the Yukon, Finrod confessed that he was feeling weary and Daeron took over the driving.

“I do not understand why I feel so tired,” Finrod complained as he and Daeron exchanged seats. “All I have been doing is driving.”

“And your hands gripped the steering wheel most of the time,” Glorfindel pointed out with a knowing smile. “I bet you didn’t relax the whole time you were behind the wheel.”

Finrod blinked and then nodded, recognizing the truth of his gwador’s words.

“Don’t worry about it,” Glorfindel said with assurance. “We all go through that stage when learning to drive. Just wait until you receive your license and drive solo. You’re going to be one Nervous Nelly the first couple of times.”

Finrod gave him a jaundiced look but before he could say anything Glorfindel grinned sympathetically. “Remember the very first time you fought in a battle?” he said quietly and Finrod’s expression became more thoughtful.

They eventually reached Fairbanks late in the afternoon. By now, Glorfindel was driving while Daeron acted as a tour guide for the ellith, pointing out some of the sights as they drove down Route 2 into the city, the ellith looking rather stunned at what they saw. Finrod still felt stunned as well but hid it behind an air of nonchalance that probably fooled the ellith but not Glorfindel or Daeron. Glorfindel brought them to the Downtown Log Cabin Hideaway Bed and Breakfast where they were warmly greeted by the owners and shown to their rooms with the ellith in one and the ellyn in another. As they were unpacking, Glorfindel called Gwyn to let him know that they had arrived and they agreed to meet for dinner at Geraldo’s later.

“And then you can tell us the real reason you want us down here,” he said before hanging up, not giving the younger ellon time to answer.

Since they had a couple of hours to spare, they decided to go for a walk so the ellith could see more of the city.

“I never imagined it could be like this,” Helyanwë said with something close to awe as she walked hand-in-hand with Glorfindel, “even though I have seen such on the TV and in the movies we have watched.”

“It’s one thing to see it on film, but it’s something else entirely to experience it for real,” Glorfindel said sympathetically.

“And you watched them create all this,” Helyanwë said, making it more a statement than a question.

“I watched them build their first cities out of mud brick, a far cry from the cities of Men of earlier ages, yet it was an amazing accomplishment and I watched them rediscover the art of writing and husbandry and a host of other skills that had been lost or forgotten during the ice age when the Mortals were reduced to hunter-gatherer clans struggling to survive. There were many set-backs along the way and whole civilizations died or were destroyed, but they never stopped striving, they never stopped dreaming and they never stopped hoping for a better world. That is something you of Valinor need to learn again: hope.”

Daeron and Finrod both nodded and the two ellith looked thoughtful as they continued their walk along the tree-lined streets.

****

When they met with Gwyn and Gareth at Geraldo’s later that evening, Gareth looked somewhat despondent.

“I was hoping Nell would be with you,” he said somewhat morosely.

“We plan to bring her and the Three Amigos down in June after they’ve finished with their exams,” Glorfindel said. That mollified the younger ellon.

“So why did you want us to come all the way down here to meet your parents when we would be meeting them anyway once you came to Wiseman?” Daeron asked once the menu had been decided and they were left alone.

“Mam and Da have only met Amroth and Nimrodel and that via Skype,” Gwyn replied. “They were both pretty gobsmacked and I think they’re going to be nervous meeting with everyone, though they’ll never show it. I just thought it would be better for them if they met you first, my lords.”

“They’re going to be overwhelmed meeting with everyone,” Gareth added. “Even Gwyn’s going to be, I suspect.”

“I will not,” Gwyn protested.

“Well, I was,” Gareth shot back. “You’ve only met a handful of them; you haven’t met all of them. I’d be surprised if you don’t feel just a little bit overwhelmed by it all and that goes double for Mam and Da.”

“So you want us here to act as a buffer, get them used to the idea of being around other Elves after not being around any for longer than the Mortals’ recorded history,” Glorfindel said.

“Something like that,” Gwyn replied.

“And the fact that you still have not told your parents about Gareth and Nielluin has nothing to do with it, does it?” Finrod said with a shrewd look, entering the conversation for the first time.

Both brothers blushed, not quite looking at one another. Finrod, Glorfindel and Daeron exchanged amused and knowing looks.

“So what time do they arrive?” Glorfindel asked, deciding not to pursue Finrod’s line of questioning for now.

“Plane arrives around one,” Gwyn replied.

“Then we’ll plan on leaving for Wiseman on Thursday,” Glorfindel said.

About then, the waitress came with their pizzas and they concentrated on their dinner, speaking of inconsequential matters until it was time to leave with Glorfindel promising they would meet up with the brothers at the airport around twelve-thirty.

****

“Alaska Airlines Flight 420 from Anchorage now arriving at gate three,” came the announcement over the PA system.

“That’s them,” Gwyn said to the others as they waited in the arrivals lounge. Finrod, flanked by the two ellith, had been glued to the window, watching the planes come and go, while Glorfindel, Daeron and the ap Hywel brothers had sat, taking their ease and generally ignoring the hubbub around them as they conversed quietly in Sindarin.

“It’ll be a while before they deplane,” Daeron said even as Glorfindel was calling Finrod and the ellith away from the windows and they walked over to stand where those arriving could see them. It was probably a good ten minutes before the first of the passengers began making their way past the security gates and being greeted by those waiting for them.

“Do you see them?” Gareth asked his brother, sounding rather anxious.

Gwyn shook his head. “I bet you they’ll be one of the last ones off,” he said, giving his brother a grin. “Mam always wants a seat in the back.”

“Do you think they’ll know, I mean about me and Nell, as soon as they see me?” Gareth asked.

Gwyn shrugged. “I don’t know, Bro. This is new territory for me, too.” He turned to Finrod. “Will they be able to sense the bond?”

“It depends on how sensitive they are to such things,” Finrod answered. “In the excitement of seeing you, perhaps they will not notice immediately.”

Gareth sighed. Finrod gave him a searching look. “That is why we are here, is it not? You want me to tell them.”

Gareth reddened in embarrassment. “No. I will tell them, but I… I guess I just wanted… um… some back-up.”

Finrod raised an eyebrow but before he could comment, Gwyn started waving. “There they are!”

Everyone looked to see a couple walking not quite together, the woman slightly ahead of the man. They were a study in contrast. Iseult ap Hywel was, to put it mildly, stunning, and people simply stopped and gawked as she walked by with an air of supreme indifference, her attention on her sons. She was nearly as tall as Glorfindel and stylishly dressed in cream-colored slacks with a matching jacket and a teal green silk blouse with pearl buttons. A single strand of pearls graced her neck and teardrop pearl earrings completed the ensemble. Her feet were shod in stylish, open-toed leather sandals and she carried a straw tote over one shoulder. Her brown hair had reddish glints and was long and luxurious; her eyes were a cold blue and she was not smiling.

Tristan ap Hywel was surprisingly a few inches shorter than his wife with shoulder-length ash blond hair and hazel green eyes, most unusual in Elves. He was dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a heather-gray T-shirt showing a traditional image of an atom with what appeared to be a mathematical formula overlaying it and a caption that read: Neutrinos have mass? I didn’t know they were Catholic! He carried a plaid sports coat over one arm and a messenger bag over a shoulder. On his head was a baseball cap with a Manchester United logo on it; his tennis shoes had seen better days. When he saw his sons, he beamed with pride and joy, his eyes dancing merrily.

“Da is such a geek,” Gareth whispered and Gwyn snorted in agreement while the others looked on in amusement.

“Your father is such a nerd!” Iseult declared loudly in disgust before anyone could offer a greeting, her voice a pleasing contralto, the accent British but with a Welsh lilt. “I refused to sit with him the entire trip over.”

Tristan’s smile only broadened and he gave them a wink.

“Hello, my darlings!” Iseult exclaimed, opening her arms so the brothers could greet her and for the next several minutes the ap Hywels visited with each other, the brothers kissing their mother and calling her ‘mam’ but shaking hands with their father, addressing him as ‘sir’, asking how the flight over had been. Iseult did most of the talking, complaining about the long flight across the Pond and the even longer flights across America and how rude Americans were and what a nerd their father was, and, “Are you sure you’re getting enough to eat? You’re much too thin, the both of you,” she said at the last. Tristan shared a knowing smile with his sons. All the while, those from Wiseman stood patiently by, waiting to be introduced. Tristan finally took the initiative by holding out his hand to them even as Iseult continued remonstrating with Gwyn about not feeding his brother properly.

“Tristan ap Hywel,” he said, effectively stopping Iseult’s monologue. Like his wife, his accent was definitely British with a Welsh lilt. “You’re from Wiseman, I take it?”

Glorfindel shook the ellon’s hand. “Yes. I’m Loren, this is Quinn, Darren, Helena and Anna.”

“Hmm… I suspect those are not your real names, though,” Tristan said shrewdly.

“Why don’t we find your luggage and get out of here before we start sharing stories?” Glorfindel suggested instead of answering Tristan’s implied question and the others agreed. “I believe the baggage claim is down this way,” Glorfindel said.

About twenty minutes or so later they were making their way out of the terminal to the parking lot. “I’ve got the directions you gave me. We’ll meet you at your house,” Glorfindel said to Gwyn and the two groups separated.

The Wiseman Elves remained silent as they headed for the van and even as Glorfindel maneuvered the vehicle out of the parking lot and paid the fee no one offered any comments, but once they were back onto Airport Way and were heading for the ap Hywel house, Daeron started laughing.

“Oh my! Iseult is something else, isn’t she?”

The others grinned. “If I didn’t know she was an Elf, I’d swear she was Jewish,” Glorfindel said and that caused Daeron to laugh even harder.

“What is a nee-oo-tree-no and why are they Catholic?” Melyanna asked suddenly.

“I was wondering that myself,” Finrod said.

Glorfindel and Daeron glanced at each other and then they burst out laughing at the same time.

“It’s new-tree-no,” Daeron corrected once he calmed down. “They’re… oh lord! How do we explain subatomic particles?” This last was addressed to Glorfindel who shrugged.

“It’s a play on words, Finrod,” he said. “The Catholic worship service, like what you saw at St. Mary’s, is called the Mass. Neutrinos are subatomic particles and for a long time physicists did not think they had any mass, but they recently were able to prove that they do though it’s so close to zero that it hardly matters. The story goes that when the news broke someone rushed to a colleague to tell him that, quote, ‘Neutrinos have mass’ and the colleague’s response was the quip about not knowing they were Catholic.” He shrugged as if to say, “Mortals! What can you do?”

For a moment no one spoke, the three Valinórean Elves apparently digesting Glorfindel’s explanation. Then Finrod quirked an eyebrow. “I do not think they noticed Gareth’s bond.”

“Iseult was so busy complaining about everything under the sun, I doubt she noticed she was in Alaska,” Glorfindel retorted and the others chuckled.

“I think she was just nervous and tried to hide it behind a barrage of words,” Helyanwë offered and the others nodded in agreement.

“Well, I have to agree with Gwyn and Gareth, though,” Daeron said.

“About what?” Melyanna asked.

“Tristan ap Hywel is indeed a geek,” the loremaster replied with a grin.

“Oh yes, definitely,” Glorfindel said with a roll of his eyes and the others snorted in amusement.

****

“Why do you have to be such a geek, Da?” Gareth complained from the front seat of the car as Gwyn drove out of the parking lot and through the gate after paying the fee. He spoke in Welsh.

“Nothing wrong with being a geek, my son,” Tristan replied amiably in the same language from the back seat where he and his wife were sitting.

“Your father does it on purpose to embarrass me,” Iseult offered.

“That’s not true, Izzy,” Tristan said with a gentle smile. “You know how… how staid I used to be, and something of a bore, wearing the most conservative cut and colors, trying to blend in and fearing to be noticed. I kept my head down and made no waves and I was perfectly miserable. Then I met Max and Albert and the other scientists with their wild ideas about the universe and not caring what they looked like or how they sounded, totally at ease with themselves and with their environment and I wanted to be like that. You do not know how liberating it was for me to stop being afraid all the time and simply enjoy the fact that I was alive and there was an entire universe to explore.”

“Were you really afraid, Da?” Gareth asked, looking concerned.

“Yes, my son, I was, but that was then and this is now and now I am simply out to have a good time and if the way I dress and act embarrasses you, I am sorry, but I will not change for anyone, not anymore.”

Silence fell among them for a moment and then Iseult, deciding to change the subject, asked, “So who did we meet back there?”

“You met three very famous ellyn,” Gwyn answered. “Loren is Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin, Darren is Daeron of Doriath, minstrel and loremaster to Elu Thingol, and Quinn…”

“Quinn is Aran Finrod!” Gareth interjected excitedly. “He works in a bookstore, can you believe it?”

Tristan and Iseult exchanged puzzled looks before Iseult said, “You must be mistaken.”

“About what?” Gwyn asked, glancing at the rear-view mirror.

“They can’t truly be who they claim to be,” Iseult explained. “How do you know that’s who they say they are? Do you have proof?”

“Why would they lie?” Gareth asked, looking thoroughly confused. “They have no reason to lie.”

“Perhaps not, but I can claim to be anyone historical and who would know?” Tristan said. “There are none alive today to say differently. Just because they claim to be who they say they are, we shouldn’t take their claims at face value. I thought I taught you that.”

“So you’re saying it’s all a scam, that they are only pretending to be Glorfindel and Daeron and Finrod. But why? The Mortals of Wiseman wouldn’t know or care. They were pretty much stunned simply by the fact that Elves existed.”

“Yet, we all know that Aran Finrod died as did Lord Glorfindel and no one knows what fate befell Daeron when he fled Doriath,” Iseult said. “I still find it hard to believe that they are who they say they are.”

“You believed Amroth and Nimrodel,” Gareth pointed out.

“Well…” Iseult said and left the implication hanging.

Gwyn and Gareth exchanged worried glances. “They’re not lying,” Gareth said forcibly, but his expression was somewhat doubtful.

They lapsed into silence for the rest of the short trip to the house, arriving right behind Glorfindel. The Wiseman Elves were already out waiting by the door for the ap Hywel’s. They took a few minutes to grab luggage and bring it inside with Iseult exclaiming with delight at the sight of the front garden which was blooming with a riot of spring flowers in a variety of colors. Once inside the house, Gwyn asked if anyone cared for something to drink and when Iseult suggested tea would be nice, they went into the kitchen where Gwyn and Gareth busied themselves with making the tea, bringing out some soda bread to go with it.

Tristan was the first to address the concerns he and Iseult had expressed in the car, now speaking in Sindarin. “My sons claim that you are in actuality Lord Glorfindel, Lord Daeron and Aran Finrod. My wife and I find it rather hard to believe. What proof do you have?  And the ellith? Who are they really?”

The Wiseman Elves looked a bit nonplused for a moment, with Glorfindel and Finrod exchanging confused looks while Daeron just closed his eyes and shook his head. Finally Glorfindel turned to the couple, his smile somewhat sardonic.

“Sorry, I forgot to bring my letter of introduction from Lord Manwë. I’m afraid you’ll just have to take our word for it. We are who we say we are and I would be more than happy to give you chapter and verse of my life, including the little details that none of you know about, but you can claim that I am making it up and there is no way for me to dispute it. So, you must decide in your own minds if what we claim about ourselves is true or not. Nothing we say or do will help in this matter.”

“But Gwyn says this one works in a bookstore,” Iseult exclaimed, nodding at Finrod. “The King of Nargothrond working in a bookstore or any store for that matter? Please!”

“And I run Elf Academy,” Glorfindel replied with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “That’s the tourism school at the Northern Lights Community College in Wiseman.” He shrugged. “The days when we ruled whole kingdoms or were lords of such are long gone. We do what we must to survive, no less than you.”

“But everyone knows Finrod and Glorfindel died!” Tristan protested.

“Yes, we did,” Finrod said, entering the conversation for the first time. “We spent many centuries in Mandos before we were released. Glorfindel was sent back to Middle-earth by the will of the Valar and eventually resided in Imladris as the Captain of Guards for Lord Elrond, or did you not know this?”

Tristan and Iseult exchanged looks that the others could not easily interpret. Tristan was the one to answer Finrod. “Not really,” he admitted somewhat reluctantly.

Finrod nodded. “And I returned only recently, again by the will of the Valar. I came with several others, including Helyanwë and Melyanna.” He nodded to the two ellith who had remained silent through the discussion. “The Lady Helyanwë is the great-granddaughter of my cousin, Alassiel, daughter of Prince Intarion, who is the nephew of Ingwë, High King of All the Elves in Aman. Lady Melyanna is the great-great-grandaughter of Beleg Cúthalion of Doriath.” Both Tristan and Iseult started at that, giving the elleth considering looks. “And yes, you will meet Beleg when you come to Wiseman.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Gwyn and Gareth finished putting the tea together and they all retired to the living room to enjoy it with Tristan and Iseult taking the couch and the others sitting in chairs. Glorfindel and Finrod actually grabbed a couple of chairs from the dining room to sit on. Finally, when all were settled, Tristan spoke. “I am a scientist. I take nothing at face value and I need actual proof before I believe a thing.”

“Yet, does not your heart speak to you, child?” Daeron said softly. “Can you not tell that we speak the truth? What proof can we give you to convince you?”

Tristan shrugged, giving them a sly smile. “I suppose short of Eru Himself showing up and speaking for you, not much.”

Gwyn and Gareth actually looked shocked at their father’s words, though Glorfindel, Finrod and Daeron just looked amused. The two ellith exchanged knowing smiles.

“Oh, child, from your lips to the Valar’s ears,” Daeron said with a soft chuckle.

“You rang?”

And there in their midst was Námo in all his dark glory and not in his Nate disguise. He wore a black velvet knee-length tunic with black pearls interspersed with carnelians sewn on the hem and at the neck. Underneath that he wore a shirt of whitest lawn gathered at the wrist and linen leggings dyed black covered his lower extremities, while his feet were shoved into richly carved, black leather ankle boots. The tunic was belted with a mithril-linked belt in the shape of leaves and he wore his pendant of the sun-in-eclipse. His blue-black hair was elf-braided with diamonds and pearls, and he wore a mithril circlet in the shape of flames with a single ruby in the center.

The Wiseman Elves and the ap Hywel brothers hastily stood and offered the Lord of Mandos their obeisance, but neither Tristan nor Iseult moved. Iseult had actually dropped her tea cup and now it lay on the floor, its contents seeping into the carpet, her eyes wide with shock. Tristan’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times, though no sound issued forth and then he gave a soft moan as his eyes rolled up into his head and he slid off the couch bonelessly into a faint.

They all stared down at the poor ellon lying there. Iseult gave her husband a disgusted look. Námo chuckled and everyone looked back at him.

“Don’t worry,” he said amiably. “I get that reaction a lot.”

****

Notes:

1. Carnelian: A chalcedony, ranging from a clear orange-red to a dark-orange brown, that has the power to ease fear about rebirth (for the Eldar) and death (for Mortals).

2. Black pearl: Can symbolize wisdom as well as hope for a wounded heart (and who does not gain wisdom after such wounding?). In Chinese mythology, it was believed that black pearls came from the brains of dragons (a symbol of wisdom), but the Japanese thought they were the tears of angels.

3. Ruby: Considered to be the most powerful gem in the universe. Among other properties, it gives the wearer the ability to see things in a true and correct manner, surely important for Námo as Lord of Mandos and Judge of the Dead.