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Elf Academy 3: The Enemy Within  by Fiondil

101: Dancing the Night Away

They finished checking on the other patients in ICU and then signed off on the status reports. Elladan returned the borrowed laptop and thanked the nurses for their help. Then the three made their way to the elevators and Elrohir pressed the UP button.

“We’ll stop at the cafeteria and get something to eat,” he said to Elrond, “and then we’ll check with Kyle to see if we’re needed for anything else.”

Elrond said nothing, merely nodded as they entered the elevator and a couple of minutes later they were entering the cafeteria, almost empty this time of night, and saw Vardamir, Eärnur and Barahir sitting at a table drinking coffee. Kyle was with them. The four looked up as Elrond and his sons approached.

“How’s ICU?” Kyle asked.

“We lost one,” Elladan said woodenly and then went on to explain what had happened.

“Lord Námo?” Kyle exclaimed. “Not Nate?”

The three shook their heads and it was Elrond who spoke. “Lord Námo appeared as he usually does with us.” He nodded to Vardamir and Eärnur. “I take it that he appears differently to you?”

“He usually shows up dressed like anyone else you might meet on the streets of Wiseman,” Elladan answered. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like he was tonight.”

“I’m surprised he made an appearance at all,” Kyle said. “While everyone talks about the Grim Reaper or the Angel of Death, no one actually wants to come face-to-face with him. He must know that, if he knows anything about us Mortals.”

“I think this was a special case,” Elrond said, casting a fond look at his sons, both of whom had been subdued after the death of Mr. Anderson.

Kyle nodded. “Well, anyway, I want to thank you all for your help. I think some of the accident victims might not have made it without your special gifts. And Dan, Roy, don’t feel too bad about Anderson. I, for one, am glad that the States mandated the DNR rule.”

“Why?” Elrohir asked, looking stunned and the other Elves were not far behind.

“Because, prior to that, we doctors made heroic efforts to save the patient.” He crooked his fingers to indicate quotation marks when he said the word heroic. “But it wasn’t heroism, it was merely arrogance to think we had the right to play God at the cost of the patient’s own sovereign right to dignity. That DNR rule relieved us of that responsibility, a responsibility we should never have arrogated to ourselves in the first place. As terrible as it is, death is a fact of life and we need to respect it. It’s sad to see someone die whom we could have saved, don’t get me wrong, but it is what it is and we have to accept it and concentrate on those like the little girl you treated who are still here and need our care. Now, you’ve all done more than enough. Go home. I’m going to send Randall and Manuela home as well even though their shift isn’t over for another three hours. None of you are to report back until after the wedding, okay?”

“You’re sure?” Vardamir asked.

“Yes, I am. Go, all of you. Concentrate on the wedding. Celebrate life and new beginnings. I’ll see you all Saturday, okay?”

With that, he nodded to the Elves, picked up his cup of coffee and wandered off, idly checking his watch.

For a moment, the Elves just sat or stood where they were, then Vardamir drained his mug and stood. “Why don’t we get out of these scrubs and get out of here?”

“I’ll go bring the van around,” Barahir said, also standing, and the others agreed as they made their way out of the cafeteria.

Along the way they ran into Laurendil and Manwen and fifteen minutes later, divested of their scrubs, they were climbing into the van and Barahir set off. Elrond watched in fascination as the van moved, amazed at the speed at which they were traveling as he watched the streets go by.

“So, do you want to go back to the athletic field?” Barahir was asking. “Everyone’s there as far as I know.”

“Stop by the house first though, will you?” Elladan said. “I want to pick something up.”

“Not a problem,” Barahir said as he turned onto Kodiak. Ten minutes later they were pulling into the drive at Edhellond and Elrond got his first look at the place his sons called ‘home’. Elladan leapt out of the van. “Won’t be a minute,” he said and Barahir just nodded, not bothering to turn off the engine. They waited in silence, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Then the front door opened and Elladan stepped out carrying a strange object that Elrond could put no name to.

“What’s with the boombox?” Elrohir asked as his brother climbed back into the van.

“I just feel like dancing,” Elladan replied.

“Okay,” Elrohir said, looking dubious, but Elladan refused to say anything more and Barahir, giving them a shrug and a smile, put the van into gear and drove back out of the drive. He followed the same route that Olórin had taken when he was escorting Glorfindel and the Elves with him to the encampment, parking near the gate, still manned by Mánatamir dressed as a police officer, who greeted them warmly and with a smile, opening the gate for them.

“Everyone’s inside trading stories,” the Maia told them.

“And we’ve missed it all,” Elrohir retorted.

“Not really,” Mánatamir said. “They’ve been mostly grilling Glorfindel and Finrod about what’s been happening here these last few months, so you haven’t missed much.”

“Aren’t you bored, standing watch like this?” Elladan asked.

The Maia’s smile widened. “Not terribly. So far, I’ve repelled two attempts by teenagers to climb the fence, convinced a number of others who just happened to be wandering by that there’s nothing to see and helped a little one capture his puppy which had slipped its leash. Haven’t had this much excitement in ages.”

The Elves chuckled as they passed through the gate and then it was closed and locked behind them. Mánatamir resumed his post and they heard him humming a tune, sounding immensely pleased with the world. Ahead, they saw torches flickering in the darkness and they heard fair voices raised in song. They wended their way past dark pavilions, making for the center of the encampment where all was brightly lit by a fire. They could see people sitting or standing around it, while others milled about, the servants seeing to the needs of their lords and guests.

“I don’t think the college authorities are going to be happy at the state of their athletic field,” Elrohir commented with a chuckle.

“The Maiar plan to restore everything to its original condition once everyone leaves,” Barahir said. “That’s what Olórin told Glorfindel when he asked him about it.”

As they reached the vicinity of the fire, the singing came to a stop and people greeted the newcomers warmly. Ingwë ordered more chairs to be brought and soon the eight were sitting down and goblets of wine were handed to them. Elrond took a moment to reclaim his tunic and robes, donning them before sitting beside his wife.

“How did it go?” Glorfindel asked.

“We lost one,” Elladan replied after taking a sip of the wine. “A DNR. Nothing we could do.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Glorfindel said. “From what we’ve heard it was a pretty bad accident, so just losing one out of almost fifty people, that’s pretty good.”

“A dee en ar?” Ingwë asked.

“Do Not Resuscitate,” Elrond answered before Elladan could. He looked rather smug when Ingwë raised an eyebrow. “The Mortals apparently can leave instructions as to the extent of their medical care in the event they are not in a position to voice their desires and these Mortals have developed techniques to bring a person back from the dead.”

“Is that true?” Olwë demanded of Vardamir, looking almost shocked.

Vardamir nodded. “There is a very brief window of opportunity when a person first dies wherein you can attempt to bring them back without fear of brain damage. The heart can be restarted in many cases, though not in all.”

“But if Lord Námo calls…” Olwë started to say, shaking his head, unable to complete whatever his thought was.

“Mortal doctors fight death with all they have, see death as an enemy,” Elrohir said softly. “And sometimes it is, but sometimes it isn’t. When someone signs a DNR form, they are essentially saying that they do not wish to be brought back for any reason. If it is their time to die, then they should be allowed to go. Not everyone signs such a form, but many do, recognizing that living for the sake of living isn’t always the best option for them or their family. It still hurts though, having to stand by and do nothing.”

“Much like parents must stand by and do nothing when their child makes a decision they know is wrong,” Elrond said gently, “but every parent knows that the only way any child learns is through making mistakes. It is very hard when you know you can help them, but wisdom says, no.”

There were nods of agreement from those who were parents. “Someday, you will learn that truth, my son, if you and Serindë ever decide to add children to you,” Celebrían said, smiling serenely at Elrohir.

Elrohir blushed for some reason, and then, deciding to change the subject, said, “George Stillman’s daughter was one of the victims.”

Glorfindel’s eyes widened and Daeron gasped in surprise. The other Wiseman Elves looked equally upset. “They didn’t release the names of the victims, so we didn’t know,” Glorfindel said. “I’ll have to call him tomorrow and find out how she’s doing.”

“She’s in ICU at the moment,” Elrohir explained. “We met Stillman and his wife while we were making rounds. The child had a seizure while we were there. George wasn’t too happy about us treating her, but Lord Námo set him straight.”

“Whoa! Lord Námo?” Glorfindel asked in surprise. “Not Nate?”

The Twins and Elrond shook their heads and Elladan took a moment to explain what had happened.

“Well, don’t that beat all?” Glorfindel said, shaking his head, when the ellon finished his narrative. Then he glanced at Elladan. “So what’s with the boombox?”

For an answer, Elladan stood and picked up the boombox that he had set on the ground beside him and carefully balanced it on the arms of his chair. He flicked the ON button and set the volume when the music started playing, then he held out his hands to Eirien, who raised an eyebrow but allowed him to pull her up even as a high-pitched voice began singing:

“Wake up in the morning with a head like ‘what ya done?’
This used to be the life but I don’t need another one…”

Elladan and Eirien started dancing, ignoring everyone, and Elrohir, who was sitting with Serindë, laughed and stood up, dragging Serindë with him and they joined the other couple in the space that ringed the fire.

“But I don’t feel like dancin’ when the old Joanna play
My heart could take a chance but my two feet can’t find a way.
You’d think that I could muster up a little soft-shoe gentle sway
But I don’t feel like dancin’
No sir, no dancin’ today…”

The Valinórean Elves just sat there goggling as, first Gwyn and Mithrellas, then Cennanion and Alphwen joined the dancers. And when Gareth grabbed Nielluin and the two started gyrating, Celeborn dropped his wine goblet along with his jaw; Galadriel’s expression, however, became completely unreadable to anyone. The three kings and those who had come with them just sat there, their eyes wide as they watched the dancers, trying to make sense of the music. Many of the support staff ceased what they were doing and joined the spectators.

“Cities come and cities go just like the old empires…”

Arafinwë tore his gaze from the children (as he saw them) dancing and glanced about him, curious as to other people’s reactions. Glorfindel was sitting there tapping his feet, a contented smile on his face, gazing fondly at the dancers. Most of the other Elves from Wiseman were smiling as well, a few even swaying to the music. He saw Findalaurë and his otornor off to one side, laughing as the three danced together, gyrating like the others. Elrond and Celebrían were actually laughing over something Celebrían had said, a memory of their sons from ages past, the two apparently comparing their present behavior with whatever they had done before. Finrod was ignoring the dancers entirely, pointing up and out at something as he spoke with Amarië. Arafinwë turned to see what his son was pointing at and felt his eyebrows leave his forehead as he saw brilliant lights of many hues flashing about in the air. It suddenly occurred to him that the lights were flashing in and out to the beat of the music and then he felt his jaw drop when he realized he was seeing Maiar in their natural forms, apparently dancing as well. He tapped Ingwë on the shoulder to get his attention and the High King of all the Elves reluctantly turned away from the spectacle before him to watch the spectacle behind him. Olwë also turned around to see.

“Don’t feel like dancin’, dancin’
Even if I find nothin’ better to do
Don’t feel like dancin’, dancin’
Why’d you pick a tune when I’m not in the mood?
Don’t feel like dancin’, dancin’
I’d rather be home with the one in the bed till dawn, with you....”

The music slowed and then stopped altogether and the dancers came to a halt.

“That’s… dancing?” Olwë asked in the silence that followed.

“That’s … music?” Ingwë asked almost at the same time.

“Oh, yeah,” Glorfindel said with a laugh, but before anyone could offer an additional comment, more music poured out of the boombox, softer and slower and the couples now fell into each other’s arms and began to slow-dance around the fire as a dulcet male voice filled the air speaking a language none of the Valinórean Elves understood:

“¿Como sobrevir?
¿Como calmari mi sed?
¿Como seguir sin ti?...”

“Ah, more my speed,” Tristan ap Hywel said with a grin. “Shall we, my dear?” He stood up and took Iseult’s hand and they joined the other dancers. Vorondur and Ercassë also joined them, much to the surprise of their sons, and then when Finrod actually stood up and gently brought Amarië to her feet, everyone else just stared at him in disbelief.

Amarië appeared naturally unsure, but Finrod just smiled. “It’s not too difficult, I promise,” he said and showed her where to place her hands and then he started doing a slow waltz-like step. Everyone could see how tense and even embarrassed Amarië felt as she awkwardly sought to follow his lead, but as the song continued and Finrod whispered something to her, his smile never leaving him, she began to relax and soon they were dancing smoothly.

And so it continued with the music alternating between fast and slow and sometimes something in between. Not all the songs involved vocals; some were pure instrumentals, usually with a voiceless choir. Gareth commented to Gwyn when one such instrumental began playing, “Reminds me of our time in the Middle East.” Gwyn just nodded as he and Mithrellas continued dancing to the beat.

Another instrumental was from a steel drum band playing a calypso beat, or so Glorfindel explained when Ingwë asked him about it. Elrohir laughed and shouted “Limbo! How low can we go?” and then bent backwards and began inching forward, swaying to the music, pretending he was going under a limbo stick. For the first time that evening, Elladan actually laughed as he joined his brother in dancing the limbo and everyone heartened at the sound, even as they continued to look askance at the dancing. 

It went on for a good hour, and only Elladan danced to every song, sometimes switching partners when the person with whom he was dancing bowed out, wishing to take a break. Elrohir and Serindë also danced most of the time. Everyone else watched and softly commented. At one point, during a slow dance tune, Celeborn actually came around and pulled Gareth and Nielluin apart. “You are not bonded yet and you are standing much too close to one another,” he said in Sindarin. “And I do not approve of your undress, Daughter,” he added, glancing at her outfit: a pair of jeans, a long-sleeve blouse with a sweater vest over it and canvas slip-ons covering her feet.

“Don’t be such a bore, Ada,” Nielluin retorted, speaking in English, trying to pull herself out of Celeborn’s grasp. “At least we’re not kissing in public and I’m dressed just fine. This is actually quite modest compared to what many Mortal females wear.”

“Leave the children alone, Celeborn,” Glorfindel called out in an amused tone. “They’re being properly chaperoned and Finrod and I have already spoken with Nell about what we consider acceptable wear. You-all will have to get used to how we dress here.”

Celeborn reluctantly released his hold on his daughter, who had the grace not to look too smug as she grabbed Gareth’s hand and they went back to dancing.

Eventually the CD ended and silence reigned as Elladan set the boombox on the ground and sat. Glorfindel smiled at him. “Feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you,” Elladan answered, brushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning back in a relaxed pose.

“A rather odd way to… relax,” Ingwë said with a wry look.

“Better than having the two of them beat the living daylights out of each other,” Glorfindel replied. “Remember, Elrond, the number of times we had to pull these two apart when they decided they needed to work off their frustrations with swords?”

“All too well,” Elrond said with a nod. Then he gave Elrohir, who was sitting with Serindë a clinical look. “You look done in, my son. You should return to Edhellond and get some rest.”

“I’m fine, Ada,” Elrohir assured them, “and it’s too pleasant here. I think I’ll just stretch out here by the fire.” So saying, he rose from his chair and settled himself on the ground, lying on his side with his head cradled in his hand. Serindë joined him, kneeling behind him and leaning over to speak with him in quiet tones. Everyone else ignored them and continued their own conversation with Glorfindel explaining what the schedule would be for the next couple of days and the kings and everyone else making arrangements to meet with the Wiseman Elves for guided tours.

At some point, Glorfindel happened to look to where Elrohir and Serindë were and smiled. “Elrond, look,” he whispered and everyone else stopped to see what Glorfindel was pointing at and there were indulgent smiles on their faces as they saw that Serindë had stretched out beside Elrohir and the two were definitely asleep. Ingwë called softly to one of the servants and issued orders and soon blankets were being thrown over the sleeping couple.

“Perhaps we should retire as well,” Arafinwë suggested. “Dawn is only a few hours away and I think I could stand to sleep for a time myself.”

Others agreed and began standing. Vorondur spoke to his sons. “Would you like to come home with us?” he asked. “We have a spare room if you desire to sleep, though there’s only the one bed.”

“Is it permitted?” Dar asked uncertainly.

“I don’t see why not,” Vorondur replied with a shrug. “You two don’t mind, do you?” he asked Amroth and Nimrodel.

“Not at all,” Amroth answered for them both, giving the two brothers a warm smile.

“Good. Then let’s go,” Vorondur said and he and Ercassë took his sons’ arms and after wishing everyone a good night, they left with Amroth and Nimrodel in tow.

Finrod was also convincing Amarië to return to Edhellond with him. “Gather your things and come with me,” he said to her. She looked doubtful but when Ingwë gave his blessing, she agreed and the two wandered off together with Finrod assuring Glorfindel that they would be along presently.

Elrond and Celebrían invited Elladan to remain. “We’ll watch over your brother and our soon-to-be daughter together,” Elrond said and Elladan agreed.

Celeborn and Galadriel attempted to convince Nielluin to return to their pavilion with them, but she refused. “Gareth and I are going to stay here and sleep under the stars,” she said, sounding a bit defiant.

“We are?” Gareth asked in surprise and when Nielluin glared at him, he said, “Oh, yes. We are.” He gave them a bright smile, as if it had been his idea all along. Gwyn just rolled his eyes while their parents exchanged amused looks, neither of them ready to interfere in the matter as yet.

Celeborn did not look pleased, nor did Galadriel. Arafinwë, having heard what was said, made the mistake of giving his opinion. “It really isn’t meet, children,” he said. “Nielluin, you should go with your parents, and Gareth, you should go with yours.”

“Why can Roy and Sarah sleep by the fire together but we can’t?” Nielluin demanded. “They’re not married yet either.”

“But they are betrothed and you are not,” Arafinwë replied.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Gareth asked. “And besides, we’re just going to sleep, or maybe just sit beside the fire and hold hands. We’re not going to do much of anything else, especially if Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían will be sitting there chaperoning us.”

“Not to mention Dan,” Nielluin added. “Really, why are you all being such…such old fogeys?”

“Old what?” Celeborn and Arafinwë asked almost at the same time.

“Old fogeys,” Glorfindel said, entering the conversation for the first time. “Which is what you are, the both of you. Now stop acting like idiots and leave the children to themselves. Nell is quite capable of stopping Gareth if he has any ideas beyond simple hand holding, so both their virtues are secure.”

Celeborn turned to Tristan. “What say you Merilin? Would you allow your son such free access to my daughter before they are properly betrothed?”

Tristan looked both affronted and amused by the question. “First of all, the name is Tristan, and second of all, Celeborn, Gareth is well over the age of consent and so, I believe, is Nell. They could simply get married in the good old-fashioned Sindarin way and there’s nothing you or I or anyone can do about it.”

“And unlike some people I know, they do not look to be running off to the royal lodge to eat snails and consummate their love when their families already have a nice wedding planned for them,” Olwë said out of the blue, giving Arafinwë a significant look.

The king of the Noldor gave them a sheepish smile. “You knew,” he said.

Olwë laughed. “Of course I knew, yonya. Who do you think gave Eärwen the idea in the first place? Though, mind you, not directly. Her ammë and I deliberately spoke of that old custom where we knew she would overhear but was not necessarily a part of the conversation.” He gave them a smug look and Ingwë chuckled, apparently well aware of what had happened and why.

Arafinwë raised an eyebrow. “Atar, you are almost as devious-minded as the Valar.”

“Why, thank you, yonya,” Olwë said with a laugh. Then he turned to Celeborn and Galadriel. “Off you go, you two, and leave the youngsters alone. Elrond and Celebrían will see that they do nothing untoward.”

“And don’t forget me,” Elladan said from where he was sitting, nursing a goblet of wine, his legs stretched out.

“We can hardly do that, yonya,” Olwë said with a fond smile.

“That’s settled then,” Glorfindel said. “Why don’t you two come with us and we’ll show you Edhellond,” he suggested to Celeborn and Galadriel. “It’ll give you more time to visit with Finrod and I’m sure you would like to get to know the ap Hywels better as well. They’re staying with us.”

“What about me?” Turgon demanded of Glorfindel. “We still have to talk, you and I.”

“But not right now,” Glorfindel answered. “Look, let’s wait until after the wedding, all right? You’re not leaving immediately, so there’s time for us to get together.”

“Glorfindel is correct, Nephew,” Arafinwë said and when Turgon looked rebellious he added, “Now, no arguments. You promised that you would be ruled by me in all things if I allowed you to come. Why don’t you go to your pavilion and rest for a time? I know I plan to.”

“As do we all,” Ingwë said. “We will bid you all good night then.” He gave them a polite bow of leavetaking and left, taking Olwë with him. Arafinwë took a reluctant Turgon and headed away as well.

So in the end, Celeborn and Galadriel, together with Finrod and Amarië who had returned in the meantime with Finrod carrying a satchel, joined Glorfindel and the others as they made their way back to Edhellond. Mánatamir wished them a good night as he unlocked and then locked the gate for them.

And back in the encampment, Elrond and Celebrían sat listening to Elladan softly tell them about what he and Elrohir had done down the ages while his brother and future bride slept at their feet with Gareth and Nielluin nearby lying side-by-side and speaking in low tones. Eventually, they fell asleep hand-in-hand.

***

Note: You can hear the songs alluded to in this chapter on YouTube:
Scissor Sisters I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’
Josh Groban Si Volvieras a Mi
Elane Samarkand 
Derek Fiechter Mermaid Lagoon 





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