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Elf Academy 3: The Enemy Within  by Fiondil

103: The Wisdom of Vorondur 

Celeborn stood looking around. The garden was still bathed in darkness, but under starlight he could see well enough, well remembering the time when there had been neither sun nor moon to brighten the sky, only the stars. He was feeling ambivalent and frustrated. Elu’s charge to him had seemed simple enough: learn what had happened to Daeron, but only now he was beginning to understand that things were not as simple as he had imagined. But then, when had they ever been?

“I am sorry if I upset you,” he said softly to Glorfindel as they stood by the fire pit.

“I am not upset, Celeborn,” Glorfindel said, “and believe me, I do understand, but even I do not know the full extent of what Daeron suffered before the Twins and I found him, and the finding was nothing short of a miracle of happenstance and serendipity. I can only imagine that the Valar were working overtime arranging matters, as the Mortals would say.”

“I do not understand how he could speak of this to Vorondur, who is of no real consequence, but he will not speak of it to one who once loved him like a second father,” Celeborn said, sounding frustrated.

“Ron is more than he seems, Celeborn,” Glorfindel said. “He, like all of us, has suffered, but unlike the rest of us, he sought to understand what drove him and others because of that suffering. He took it upon himself to study everything the Mortals knew or suspected about the mind and studied with some of the most brilliant minds of the last century.”

“Mortal minds,” Galadriel said somewhat dismissively.

“Mortals who were unafraid to look at themselves, to recognize the darkness within themselves and study it, learn to deal with it and own it.”

“Own it?” Celeborn echoed, looking confused. “Why would anyone in their right minds seek to own the darkness? That way lies madness and despair… and Morgoth.”

“No, Celeborn. That way lies power,” Glorfindel retorted, “power over that very darkness so that it does not consume you. You know, when I watch Ron work, I often fantasize how it might have been had someone like him been living in Valinor when Fëanor was running about. It’s possible that had Fëanor been under psychiatric care half the horrors we Elves suffered because of his megalomania would never have happened.” He gave them a shrug. “Anyway, Ron is the best there is. He’s very good at what he does. He not only helps people to come to terms with their past but he offers wise counsel as well.”

“And he will never reveal what is said between himself and his patients, including Daeron,” Melyanna added. “The Mortals call it doctor-patient confidentiality and their laws respect it. Only if Daeron gives him permission will he ever reveal anything that is said between them.”

“Our own healers have that same rule if you recall, my husband,” Galadriel said. “Even Elrond never told us everything about what was done to Celebrían.”

“I just assumed it was because it was too painful for him to speak of it,” Celeborn replied.

“Probably it was,” Glorfindel said. “I was there with the Twins when we rescued her. I saw what she suffered, but I suspect that only Elrond and the other healers helping him ever knew the full truth. Even the Twins do not. Elrond refused to allow them inside the healing wing. In fact, they were too busy gathering their weapons and going out to find themselves some orcs to play with.”

Celeborn snorted at that, knowing full well what his grandsons had been like back then.

“Let’s go visit the woods,” Glorfindel suggested. “Ron will come find us when he and Daeron are done.” With that, he led them through the garden to the back gate and across the field. He noticed almost as soon as they were under the trees that Celeborn visibly relaxed as the ellon brushed a hand over the trunks of the trees as they passed, making their way further in to the glade where the Elves were wont to gather. When they reached the clearing, they found a bright fire blazing and several Elves sitting or standing about. They all looked up at their approach.

“Welcome and thrice welcome!” Brethorn called out with a smile and the others joined him in welcoming Celeborn and Galadriel to their company, bowing to the couple as they came within the circle of the fire. Glorfindel watched in amusement as Galadriel sat primly on a log with Celeborn beside her, both looking regal in spite of or perhaps because of the setting. The stars were beginning to fade into the grayish light that was surreptitiously creeping over the eastern horizon, hidden by the woods. Goblets of wine were handed to the new arrivals and conversations were resumed. It appeared that people had been discussing the upcoming trip into the mountains with Harvey Lightfoot and what they hoped to accomplish. Glorfindel listened without contributing, though both Celeborn and Galadriel asked pertinent questions.

The sun was rising when Vorondur showed up, which surprised most of them, unaware that he had been at Edhellond. He was alone.

Glorfindel gave him a significant look. “Darren?”

“Putting breakfast together,” Vorondur replied.

“I should go give him a hand,” Glorfindel said. “Thanks, Ron.”

Vorondur smiled. “Don’t thank me yet, Loren. You haven’t gotten my bill.”

The Wiseman Elves all chuckled and Beleg handed Vorondur a goblet, which he accepted. “Though I can’t stay long. I called Holly before I came out here and she’s putting together some breakfast for everyone at home. I promised I would be there shortly.”

“Well, you can stay for a few minutes at least and relax,” Glorfindel said. “I’m sure your session with Darren was intense for you both.”

“Mostly I just held his hand and let him ramble to his heart’s content,” Vorondur said. “It’s what I do with most of my patients anyway. I give them a safe place for them to speak as they need to about anything and everything. They do most of the work.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Ron,” Glorfindel said sincerely. “You may think all you’re doing is giving them space for them to deal with things, but what’s important is that you are nonjudgmental and they know it and are grateful for it, as am I. I’m glad Darren’s finally willing to deal with what happened to him. He puts up a good front but there have been too many nights over the long years when I’ve had to hold him through his screams.” He paused to drain his goblet, handing it to Brethorn. “Well, I’d better go in and help. Who’s up for breakfast?”

Most of them held up a hand. Glorfindel nodded and turned to leave. Celeborn stood. “I will join you,” he said and his tone brooked no argument.

Vorondur frowned slightly. “Don’t press him, Celeborn,” he said with quiet authority.

The once Lord of the Golden Wood gave Vorondur a considering look. “I will not. I will, however, offer to share news about people from Doriath if he wishes to hear.”

Vorondur nodded. “I think he would like that.” He finished his wine, handing the goblet back to Beleg with a nod of thanks. “I’d better get going. I’ll see all of you tomorrow night for the wedding.”

Everyone gave him their farewells and he walked out of the clearing with Glorfindel and Celeborn. Galadriel elected to remain in the woods and Helyanwë and Melyanna remained with her, acting as ladies-in-waiting. The three ellyn walked in silence as they crossed the fields and into the back garden. When they entered the kitchen, they saw Daeron pulling out the Belgian waffle iron and setting it up. He stopped and gave them an embarrassed look.

“Sorry about that,” he whispered, not quite looking at them.

“There’s no need to apologize, Darren,” Glorfindel said, stepping over to give him a hug.

“I just wish I were strong like you, Loren.”

“Darren, you’re one of the strongest people I know,” Glorfindel insisted. “Most of us would have long given up and faded if we had suffered what you suffered. Don’t ever think that I or the Twins see you as weak. You’re not.”

“Sometimes I think it would have been better if I’d just died,” Daeron said somewhat woodenly.

“Well, I don’t,” Glorfindel retorted, giving him a slight shake. “I was getting tired of having to babysit the Twins on my own. It was nice to have another grown-up around to talk to.” He gave the ellon a sly grin and Daeron chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Good. That’s settled. So, I see you’ve decided on Belgian waffles. What else?”

“Do you want to make a fruit compote?” Daeron asked.

“Sounds good. Celeborn can help.” Glorfindel gave the erstwhile Lord of Lórien a meaningful look and Celeborn nodded.

“And while we are doing that, perhaps you would like to hear news about how those who once abided in Doriath have fared,” Celeborn suggested.

“Yes, I would like that,” Daeron said as he started putting together the batter.

“Well, I’ll leave you three to gossip,” Vorondur said. “Loren, there’ll be a brief rehearsal tonight at the Hall at six. You were going to stand in Elrond’s place but since he and Celebrían are here now…”

“Elrond intimated that he would appreciate me standing with him, since I’ve acted as a surrogate father to Roy and Dan all these long years and he knows this and appreciates it.”

“Okay. Good. Call me if you need me. I’ve cancelled all my usual appointments for today except for Alex. I don’t like not seeing him. I’ve noticed Derek looking worried whenever I see them together.”

“Oh? What do you suppose he’s worried about?” Glorfindel asked with a frown.

“I have no idea, nor will I ask him, but if he’s worried, then I’m worried. Alex appears to be integrating himself very nicely and settling into the routine of teaching. He even appears to enjoy it, but it’s as I said before, he’s an adrenaline junkie and he never feels more alive than when he’s facing the possibility of dying a swift and bloody death at the hands of his enemies. Like any junkie attempting to kick the habit, it’s going to take a while before he’s clean and even then that need for a rush will never fully leave him. The one hopeful sign I’m seeing is Felicity Cohen. Alex is more inclined to talk about her in our sessions than about himself.”

“Ah, young love,” Daeron said with a soppy grin. “What would we do without it?”

“Sleep better, if nothing else,” Vorondur quipped and even Celeborn laughed. Vorondur waved at them as he headed toward the front door and they all wished him a good day.

“So, Celeborn, sit here and pluck these grapes and tell us all the dirt on who’s doing what to whom back in Valinor,” Glorfindel said as he put a large bowl on the table along with a variety of fruits. Celeborn joined him and started plucking the grapes off the stem and began regaling them with the doings large and small of those residing in the Blessed Realm. When Galadriel and the others showed up some time later, she contributed some of her own news as they gathered around the buffet. Finrod and Amarië came down just before eight and joined them, along with Tristan and Iseult and the breakfast was a merry affair.

****

Vorondur pulled into the garage and turned off the car, getting out and heading for the door. He could hear laughter and smiled. His sons had been somewhat diffident when he and Ercassë had shown them around the house and Vorondur recognized that they were trying to keep their emotions under control. The meeting with their sons, so unexpected, had been tearful and joyful and Vorondur knew that he, at least, was still processing those emotions for himself. He could not look at Cani without feeling some level of guilt. He had failed to save his child and had watched him die in his arms. And Dar. He had last seen his eldest waving to him from his boat as he stood on the shore, neither one knowing that that would be the last time they would see each other for almost ten thousand years.

He paused at the door. Had it truly been that long? It seemed almost like yesterday. He shook his head in disgust at that as he opened the door and stepped through the mudroom and into the kitchen to find Ercassë and their sons along with Amroth and Nimrodel. They all turned at his entrance and Ercassë, who had been hovering over the stove, came to him.

“How are you doing, love?” she asked, giving him a hug and a kiss which he returned.

“Hungry,” he replied with a smile.

“And Darren?” Amroth asked from where he was seated at the breakfast table with Nimrodel. Dar and Cani were standing, leaning against counters.

“He’s fine, or finer. Celeborn was pressing him to tell him about where he had gone and what he had done after he fled Doriath. Loren had to step in.”

Amroth shook his head. “They just have no clue, do they? At least Darren eventually was found and rescued. There was no one there for me and I have my own horror stories.”

“Which you seem disincline to share with anyone,” Vorondur said with a faint knowing smile. “However, if you ever so feel the need, you know where my door is.”

“Unfortunately,” Amroth said with a feigned scowl, then his expression turned slightly wicked. “I’m tempted to carve a sign to put on that door that says ‘The Wizard Is In’.”

Vorondur laughed and the two ellith chuckled. Ercassë went back to the stove where she threw some rashers of bacon into a skillet and began whipping eggs in a bowl, doctoring them with shredded cheddar cheese and paprika. Vorondur excused himself for a moment and headed for the bathroom. He came back a few minutes later to find Amroth now standing at the stove scrambling the eggs while Ercassë was pouring juice in glasses and Nimrodel was setting the dining room table since there were too many of them for the breakfast nook. Dar and Cani had not moved. Before anyone else could say anything, Dar addressed his father.

“I do not understand what it is you do, Ada,” he said, speaking in Sindarin. “Why did Lord Glorfindel call for you to… to rescue the minstrel? And from Lord Celeborn no less!”

Vorondur glanced between his two sons, gauging their moods. Dar seemed genuinely upset for some reason, while Cani was too still, too wary looking and he would not meet his father’s eyes for some reason. Vorondur looked to Ercassë who shrugged as she placed the juice glasses on a tray and took them into the dining room, ostensibly leaving their sons to him. Vorondur resisted a smile.

“What upsets you, my sons?” Vorondur asked, speaking in English. Both his sons scowled.

“Can we not have this conversation in a less barbaric tongue?” Cani demanded, speaking in Quenya.

“You both need the practice,” Vorondur replied, his expression one of amusement at the put-upon expressions on his children’s faces. All they needed was Serindë there pouting to complete the picture.

“There’s nothing wrong with English, boys,” Ercassë said as she returned to the kitchen with an empty tray. “And your father is correct. You both need the practice. You are less fluent in it than some of the others who came with you I noticed.”

“And if you hope to remain here, you will need to improve,” Amroth said as he began dishing up the eggs.

Both Dar and Cani gave them startled looks. “We were told we could not stay,” Dar said uncertainly. “We even had to give Lord Manwë our oaths that we would not attempt to hide when it was time to leave.”

Vorondur exchanged a surprised look with Ercassë. “And did Lord Manwë exact this oath from all of you?” he asked in a neutral tone, as if the answer was only of mild interest to him.

Cani shook his head, scowling. “No, he only demanded an oath from us and from Lord Turgon.”

“Ah. I see,” Vorondur said, nodding.

“What do you see?” Dar demanded harshly. “Do you see elflings here?” He nodded at his brother to include him.

“No. I see my sons who are also Reborn,” Vorondur answered calmly, “and having been exposed to a number of them lately, I understand why Lord Manwë exacted the oath that he did from you.”

“Yes, once a Reborn, always a Reborn,” Dar sneered. “There are times when I think I should have just remained in Mandos. If nothing else, the company was better.”

Ercassë gasped in shock at that and both Amroth and Nimrodel looked embarrassed, no doubt feeling that they were in the middle of a family argument and wishing to be elsewhere. Vorondur narrowed his eyes and pointed to the back door.

“You are always free to leave if you find our presence too burdensome,” he said quietly. “That goes for you as well, Findecáno.”

Both ellyn paled at his tone and Dar attempted to apologize. “That’s not what I meant,” he said in protest. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like for us? For me? My last memory of this life was of seeing a monstrous wave come crashing down on us and then the next thing I knew I’m lying on some couch in a cottage and there is a complete stranger standing over me welcoming me back to Life. It took days for me to remember that I’d died and had spent untold centuries in Mandos. It took even longer to remember you and Nana, knowing that you were all alone now. When I was eventually released from Lórien it was into the care of people who claimed to be family, though I knew them not and I never felt completely at home with them. And then, one day, out of the blue, I’m summoned to Lórien to meet a brother I never knew existed. He at least recognized me from your descriptions, I suppose, but it took time for us to even feel as if we were brothers and all that time it was us Reborn against the Once-born.”

Vorondur nodded. “I take it you were sent to live with your grandparents?” Both ellyn nodded. “How are they and your Uncle Voronwë?”

Both ellyn shrugged. “They’re fine,” Dar replied, still looking mulish.

“Just fine?”

“They sent their love,” Cani added, “and they are hoping we can convince you and Nana to return with us. Uncle Voronwë says he’s only pretending to be Daeradar’s heir until you come home.”

“Well, I’m afraid they are going to be disappointed,” Vorondur said, glancing at Ercassë who smiled the smile reserved only for him. He turned back to his sons. “So, what upsets you more: the fact that Lord Manwë exacted an oath from you because you’re Reborn or that he anticipated your plans and put a stop to them before you could implement them?”

Both ellyn looked at him wide-eyed. “How did you—?”

“How did I know what you were planning?” Vorondur said, smiling in amusement at his sons’ expressions. “Because if I were in Lord Manwë’s place, I would have done the same.”

“But why?” Cani practically wailed. “Don’t you want us here?”

“I didn’t say that. I said that I would have exacted an oath from you not to run and hide and I would have done so not because you’re Reborn but because as a parent, I know how children think.”

“But we’re not children,” Dar said with a scowl.

“My son, the sad truth is that no matter how old you are, there are those who are that much older and will always think of you as a child.” He grinned. “When one has the dubious pleasure of having to change your nappies, one will generally think of you in those terms.”

Amroth actually laughed as the two brothers scowled. “I hate to butt in, but these eggs are going to get cold. Do you suppose we can continue this conversation at the table?”

“Yes, by all means, let us eat,” Vorondur said.

They went into the dining room with Amroth and Nimrodel at either end with Vorondur and Ercassë on one side and their sons across from them. For a time they concentrated on passing dishes and digging into their breakfast, but after a few minutes, Dar said, “You still have not told us what you do and why Lord Glorfindel called for you.”

“I will tell you if you answer my question.”

“What question?”

“As to what has upset you more, the oath or being found out.”

Dar and Cani exchanged looks and both of them sighed almost as one, then Dar said, “We had it all planned. At our first opportunity we would find a good place to hide. We figured Lord Eärendil would not wish to linger and people would not bother to waste time looking for us.”

“This is not the first time either of you have planned to run away,” Vorondur said, making it more a statement of fact than a question.

Both ellyn shook their heads. “I ran away once shortly after being reunited with the family, then when Cani came we ran away together.”

“Where did you run to?”

“Well, not back to Lórien like I did the first time,” Dar replied with a snort. “Cani wanted to go back to Lórien but I convinced him that we should go to Alqualondë and see if we could steal a ship and head back to Middle-earth. I know ships and I hated not being near the ocean.”

“How far did you get?” Vorondur asked.

“Not far,” Cani muttered angrily. “Stupid Maiar watchguards.”

Vorondur exchanged a knowing look with Ercassë before addressing their sons. “Yes, I can imagine that was frustrating. Were you punished?”

“Not really, but Daeradar made it clear that the next time we attempted anything that foolish he would not be quite as lenient. I really hated him at that moment. I hated them all. They knew nothing about us, didn’t want to know. Daernaneth kept deploring the fact that we were named after Finrod and Fingon and wanted us to choose different names for ourselves. We kept telling them that Dar and Cani were fine for us, but they never bothered to call us by those names. Only Uncle Voronwë ever did.”

“I like Uncle Voronwë,” Cani said.

“I am sorry you had to endure such disapproval from your grandparents,” Vorondur said sadly. “They were not happy with my and your mother’s decision to remain here instead of Sailing.”

“Daeradar said you ran away and hid just before the ship was to sail,” Dar said, casting them a suspicious look.

Vorondur simply smiled as he picked up his juice glass. “And that is how I knew what you two were planning,” he said, watching over the rim of his glass as the expressions on his sons’ faces mutated from disbelief to dawning realization. Cani sniggered and then they were both laughing.

When the two calmed down, Dar said, “Well, we answered your question, now you must answer mine.”

“I already have,” Vorondur said with a smile.

“I don’t understand,” Dar retorted, looking confused, his brother looking equally puzzled.

“You wanted to know what I do. I just showed you. Do you think the questions I asked and the way I asked them were random? No, my sons, they were asked with a purpose, to get you to come to the realization of your own motives and to see that perhaps Lord Manwë was well aware of family history and sought to prevent you from repeating it.”

“Huh?” Cani said and his parents, along with Amroth and Nimrodel all laughed.

“What your father means,” Amroth said, “is that Lord Manwë did not want you to repeat the mistake your parents made in… er… hiding—”

“Actually, we stole a couple of horses and were halfway to the next Mortal settlement before they even knew we were gone,” Vorondur interjected, and his sons simply goggled at that.

Amroth cast him a knowing grin. “Yes, well, what you two seem to have failed to understand is that Lord Manwë didn’t forbid you from remaining behind.”

“But he said we weren’t to hide!” Dar exclaimed.

“Yes, but he didn’t say you weren’t simply to state your intentions not to leave,” Amroth pointed out. “No one, least of all a Vala or a Maia, can make you board Vingilot. If you wish to remain behind, then say so. Do not act like elflings and hide, upsetting everyone and causing bad feelings all around. I get the impression your parents never forgave you.” This last was addressed to Vorondur who shrugged.

Only then did Ercassë enter the conversation. “If you two wish to stay, then we will move heaven and earth to make it happen. You just have to say.”

Dar and Cani looked at one another and nodded almost as one. Then Dar said, “Yes, we would like that.”

Ercassë got up and went around the table and hugged her sons, giving each a kiss and telling them how much she loved them.

“As do I,” Vorondur said with a smile, and then he lifted his juice glass in salute. “Welcome to Wiseman, my sons. Welcome to your new home.”

“Hear, hear,” Amroth said as he and Nimrodel raised their own glasses in salute while Dar and Cani looked on with smiles on their faces.

****

Words are Sindarin:

Daeradar: Grandfather.

Daernaneth: Grandmother.





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