CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
An Elf-lord was loitering outside Ivy's door when she emerged the next morning.
"Are you lurking for me?" she couldn't resist asking, even as she admired how authoritative and elegant Elrond looked in his grey robes. The braiding in his hair is different from last night and so intricate, does he do that himself?
Elrond smiled down at her. "I do not lurk. I have, however, been waiting patiently to escort you to breakfast. I also would like you to meet another member of our board."
He stepped back to reveal the female Elf who had been hidden behind his broad frame. "Verce, I would like to introduce you to my daughter, Ivy MacLeod. Ivy, this is Mona Williams, who is known among us as Verce."
Blessed with a regal bearing and the sort of ethereal porcelain beauty that could stop both men and women in their tracks, the Elf looked far too small and insubstantial standing next to the Elf-lord.
"How lovely that you have a new daughter, Elrond, and one so lovely. Welcome, my dear."
Verce's voice was as delicate as the thin, pale hand she offered Ivy. Shaking Verce's hand, Ivy discovered the fragile-looking bird-bones were stronger than they looked as the Elf's firm grip matched Ivy's and then some.
I'm starting to think nothing in the Elven world is the way it looks on the surface. Much to her relief, she managed to escape with all her painting fingers intact. "I'm happy to meet you."
"It is an honor to meet you, Queen's Daughter. I hope you'll be happy among us." Verce's expression was welcoming, but her eyes were cool.
"I'm sure I will be." Is she being sincere or just polite? Ivy wondered. I can't tell, but I'd bet she's on her best behavior in front of Elrond. I wonder what sort of reception I'd get if we spontaneously met out here.
"Verce runs our Belgian import company," Elrond imparted.
"My father and my mate founded it, but they have been gone Oversea for some years."
"That sounds terribly lonely," Ivy murmured. "It must be difficult for you."
The Elf's pale blue eyes thawed just a little. "At times, it can be very difficult."
"Ivy and I are on our way down to breakfast." Elrond laid a hand across Ivy's shoulder. "Would you care to join us?"
"Your invitation is most gracious, but I am waiting for Tamurile." To Ivy, Verce said, "Kiki is her Mortal name. She runs our import company in Los Angeles."
"I see."
Ivy didn't know the first thing about import companies, and hoped it wouldn't matter in the next five minutes. Feeling suddenly overwhelmed and insecure in a strange and very adult Elven world symbolized by perfectly poised Verce, Ivy instinctively stepped closer to Elrond. His hand instantly engulfed hers, and she thought she might weep later in appreciation of his constant strength and unconditional support.
"Very well, Verce. We shall see you at the meeting." The Elf-lord tightened his grip slightly. Come, Ivy."
Elrond struck out for the stairs. Ivy was grateful she'd seen him in motion the night before, for it had prepared her for the rate at which his long legs covered the distance. He did slow going down the stairs, but only minimally.
"Thank you for waiting for me, because I'm not feeling all that brave this morning," Ivy confessed as they reached the ground floor.
"I thought that might be the case given the overwhelming introduction we subjected you to last night."
"I'm okay with most of you. Really." Following Elrond into the dining room, Ivy realized she was enjoying to an absurd degree the right she had to be with him. "Especially with you."
"It brings me great joy to know that. I had worried that you might wish to keep your distance from me, as your mother did." Handing Ivy a plate, Elrond guided her toward the buffet. "As for feeling braver, I long ago discovered most things become less intimidating on a full stomach."
"I know you're right, but will I have to meet more Elves this morning?"
"We are among the last to dine this morning, and the meeting will begin soon. Without my direct invitation, I doubt anyone will dare to approach our table."
It's good to be with the king. Ivy sat next to the Elrond at the long table. "Is it wrong for me to feel relieved about that?"
"Not at all." Pouring a glass of orange juice, Elrond pointedly set aside the Diet Coke that Ivy had selected for herself and placed the juice before her. "You knew nothing of our existence, and it is unfair for us to have immersed you so abruptly and so completely. You are doing remarkably well, considering the ongoing stress and strangeness we are subjecting you to."
Glancing at Ivy's plate, Elrond did a double-take. "Earlier this morning, Erestor voiced some concern that you might take a page from Legolas' book and be too nervous to eat. He will be pleased to know he was wrong."
Following his gaze, Ivy was beyond appalled to see the huge selection of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage, sautéed mushrooms, hash browns and fresh tomato slices she'd selected. Feeling herself flush with embarrassment, she stammered, "I was listening to...I didn't realize...would you like some of this?"
"Thank you, no. I have my own." His own was wheat toast, a selection of fresh fruit and a mug of tea. "Eat what you want and feel free to leave the rest. Erestor will not be offended as long as you do not reject his lunch as well."
Taking up his fork, Elrond began eating. The faintest tremor showed in his hands.
Why do I have the feeling the Lord of Imladris isn't as cool, calm and collected about this meeting as he'd have me believe? Taking a deep, slow breath before starting in on her breakfast, Ivy wished she dared to reach for the Diet Coke he'd stolen.
"As you're an artist," Elrond said, every bit the diplomat and distraction, "you might be interested in knowing that our Verce was the model who posed for Philip Burne-Jones' most famous painting."
Not wanting to shatter the web of security the Elf-lord was working so hard to weave about her, Ivy struggled to shift her mental focus from the Elven problem to British Pre-Raphaelite art.
"Do you mean 'The Vampire'?" she asked, remembering a late-Victorian oil featuring a male victim sprawled on his back in bed while a beautiful woman with a dark, victorious smile leaned over him.
"'A fool there was and he made his prayer/To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair.'" Elrond quoted Kipling's poem that Ivy knew had been inspired by the oil. "The very same."
"Verce doesn't look a thing like that," Ivy protested. "I also seem to remember reading that Mrs. Patrick Campbell was the love-struck artist's model, after she let him down?"
"Did you also read Burne-Jones' protestations to the contrary when the painting was first exhibited in 1897?"
"I don't think so. How did Verce meet Philip Burne-Jones?"
"In 1895, she owned a bookstore in Brussels. They met when Philip came searching for a book on succubi. I do not know if he ever got his book, but he began his preliminary drawings in Belgium. He also paid Verce a certain sum each day to pose for him."
"Huh." Ivy reached stealthily for her can of Diet Coke, only to think better of it, considering the currently dormant power and possible reaction of her companion. "I like the technique in the younger Burne-Jones' pen and ink illustrations, but most people aren't aware of those. Did you know him?"
"Elladan did. They forged a lasting friendship after Verce introduced them, and Elladan helped Philip catalogue, photograph and dispense his father's works after Sir Edward died in 1898." Having finished his breakfast, Elrond pushed back from the table. "And there is my youngest son now."
Yawning his way across the room, Dan fell into the chair opposite Ivy and his father. "'Morning, you two. Were you talking about me?"
"Actually," said Elrond. "We were talking about you and Philip Burne-Jones."
"How did he come up at breakfast?"
Ivy waved her juice at him before taking a sip. "'The Vampire.'"
"Oh. And which one of you brought up that weird breakfast topic?" Dan snagged a piece of leftover toast from his father's plate.
Ivy pointed at Elrond.
"Wow, color me surprised. I thought ghoulish art would have been more your style, sister." Dan grinned at Ivy's soft whimper of protest - all she dared with Elrond sitting right there. "Philip could have been a brilliant artist, you know?"
"Why wasn't he?" asked Elrond.
"Two things worked against him." Dan caught the jar his father directed toward him across the table.
Tiptree Scarlet Jam, Ivy read the label as it slid by. I hope that's strawberry.
"The first problem," said Dan, slathering his toast with the jam, "is that Philip never needed to work because he inherited his father's money and baronetage. The second was that no matter what he did as an artist, Philip thought his works would always be unfavorably compared to his father's. He always seemed hesitant and unhappy. Sad, really."
Popping the last bit of toast into his mouth, Dan spoke around it as someone called his name from across the room. "Gotta go. See you two upstairs."
Ivy watched as the Elven warrior joined Glorfindel and two female Elves at the fireplace. Catching Ivy's eye, Glorfindel winked and raised his mug to her.
I'll bet Elrond doesn't make him drink orange juice. Ivy waved back and quickly asked. "Who are they talking to?"
"The slender, dark-haired woman is Kate Hutton, known to us as Sindohte," said Elrond. "A theatrical producer in New York, she was born and raised there in the 1800s as Julien was raised in London. Sindohte's parents still reside in Manhattan, but she replaced her mother on our board after her older brother was lost in the Great War.
"The other woman is Marina Palermo, known to us as Alasse. She is a museum director who also runs a small press. Alasse and Sindohte are fast friends and sometimes business partners. Both are currently active in New York society, serving on several theatrical and arts boards."
Ivy found herself flinching when Julien strode into the room with his chin held high and his hands squeezed into tight fists. To Ivy's relief, he didn't spare her so much as a glance before heading straight for the group at the fireplace. A bored looking female Elf with short-cropped black hair and a solid black jumpsuit that looked painted on followed in his wake.
Leaning over Sindohte's chair, Julien whispered something into her ear before whirling and heading out the door as quickly as he'd come. The black-haired girl stayed behind to sidle close to Elladan and smile up at him in rapturous attention.
"Who's the girl languishing at Dan?"
"That would be Julien's sister, Wendy." Elrond sounded amused at Ivy's impertinence. "Julien's Elven name is Morno, while Wendy's is Tarwe, but both prefer to be called by their Mortal names."
"Well, then. I'll do my best to call her Wendy and him Morno. Not that I want to tweak the tail on the Elven donkey or anything."
"Of course not."
Dismissing the other Elves for the moment, Ivy turned back to Elrond. "Not to change the subject or anything, but I need to ask if you have any last-minute, sage advice for me regarding this board thing? Or are you part of the Elven conspiracy to keep me honest by keeping me ignorant?"
"I am indeed part of the conspiracy to keep your vote honest," Elrond admitted, "but there are still a few things I may suggest. The most important is that you should not be afraid to trust what your instincts tell you about the presentations we will hear. That applies to the presenters as well. You should also not forget that you are Queen's Daughter. You carry the blood of Elven kings and are wiser than you think you are. You have every right to be here with us."
"I'm only twenty-four," she protested. "I'm not wise."
"No? I suggest we table that argument for now, as we have a meeting to get through. Listen to the arguments presented and learn what you can from them. And then..." Elrond spread his hands before him. "Vote with your heart."
Ivy threw up her hands. "That's what everybody's telling me, but it makes no sense."
"At the moment, I imagine it does not. If you do not feel confident to trust your feelings when the voting begins, then I suggest you select someone you trust and vote as they do."
"Like you?"
"If that is your choice, yes." Elrond rose from the chair, his robes flowing like an elegant silver waterfall. "I believe it is time we went upstairs."
# #
"This will hardly do." Haldir was fussing around the snack-laden tea trolley at the entrance to his library as Elrond and Ivy approached. Giving Ivy a harried glance, he muttered, "Hello, good morning. Excuse me, Elrond, but I need to talk to you about the crumpets. Could we perhaps tell Erestor we've just had breakfast, which means they shouldn't be here?"
The dignified Elf-lord of Australia was reduced to dutifully studying the snacks in question. Ivy would have remained stoically at his side, had she not spied Legolas sitting by himself at the long table where Haldir had trapped her the day before.
The Elf seemed to be staring at the table, but he lifted his head as Ivy approached. His expression was guarded, while his blue eyes were filled with a wariness Ivy wished she understood. His skin was as translucent as Glorfindel's in the morning light - far more pale than Ivy remembered it appearing. Rather than fading, the dark circles beneath Legolas' eyes were even more pronounced than they had been when Ivy had last seen him.
"Good morning," she said softly.
"Mara tuilë," Legolas returned just as quietly and sounding as if the day were anything but good. He turned a small folded white card round and round between his fingers, and Ivy noticed other cards like it were set before each chair at the table.
Leaning forward, she inspected the exquisite calligraphy on the one closest to her, only to recognize it as Haldir's work and see that it had her name on it. Thankfully, the chair it sat before was opposite Legolas.
"There's assigned seating?" she asked.
"It seems so today," Legolas confirmed.
Ivy stole a look at the name on the place card next to her chair. Much to her relief, it had Dan's name on it. Taking her seat quickly, lest Haldir swoop down and tell her she shouldn't be sitting there after all, Ivy made a boarding-house grab at the card gracing the head of the table.
If Legolas isn't sitting at the head, then who...oh, thank the gods, it's Elrond. She pushed the card back in its place. Folding her hands on the edge of the table, she regarded the Elf opposite her, who seemed to have resumed studying the polished wood.
"So, let me see..." Ivy began and waited until his pale, unhappy blue eyes lifted to meet hers once again. "Your back's to the window, and you're facing the door. I'd say that means you're not about to let yourself be cornered, and no one can sneak up on you, either."
Leaning forward, she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I think we've been here and seen this before. On your jet."
Legolas nodded but did not speak.
He looks like he's attending his own execution, Ivy thought. What is wrong with this meeting? She tried again. "I thought you'd be sitting at the head of the table. You know, conducting the meeting?"
"That is Elrond's privileged duty."
Glorfindel came around the table then which forestalled any further conversation. Laying a hand on his son's shoulder, the Elf-lord squeezed it gently before claiming the place next to Legolas.
"These chairs are always too close together," he murmured, sliding into his seat.
Legolas gave no answer but continued staring at the table.
So are the seating assignments deliberate? Ivy wondered. Is Glorfindel acting as a physical buffer between Legolas and the rest of the board? I've got Elrond on my right at the head of the table and Dan on my left to act as my buffer? Who else is near-by?
A squinting glance at the place card beyond Dan's made her think Haldir might be sitting there.
Turning toward Legolas, Glorfindel began speaking intently in a language that sounded close to Sindarin, but the inflection was different and Ivy couldn't catch any basic words. That sounds nothing like what Legolas was speaking to Haldir over his cell phone.
Legolas replied in kind to his father, so that within seconds the two were deep in conversation and seemed entirely oblivious to anyone else in the room.
How wicked cool is it that I get to watch them together? Up close and personal, their resemblance is even stronger. Though Glorfindel only looks anxious. Legolas looks beyond grim.
Someone slid a Diet Coke in front of Ivy, which made her jump. Taking the chair beside her, Dan wheeled closer offered the same warm grin she'd grown used to seeing every morning when he'd roomed with her five years before.
"Did you sleep well last night with all those blankets smothering you?
"Yeah, I did. Thanks for pointing them out to me."
Dan grumbled while fidgeting to get his chair set just right, while Glorfindel and Legolas were still deep into it. Ivy watched Glorfindel turn his chair sideways - the better to lower his voice and continue the conversation - while Legolas sat very still and continued staring at his notepad. Nothing was written on the pad, but Ivy recognized the gel pen resting to its side as the same one she'd given him on the plane. Regardless the thick stack of papers she'd seen him studying earlier, it appeared Legolas had brought nothing to the meeting except the naked notepad.
A single folder sat before Elrond's place at the head of the table. Ivy was tempted to look through the papers secreted there, if only to sneak a look at the meeting's agenda, but something told her it was best not to even try. Especially since the missing members of the board seemed to be arriving now, and any grab Ivy made for the folder would definitely be noticed.
The new Elves were definitely casting looks her way. Ivy didn't know whether to feel intimidated by they scrutiny or stick out her tongue at them.
Better to behave, she decided, though it was tempting.
She returned Haldir's smile and his murmured good morning from the other side of Dan before sinking down farther in her chair. Ivy recognized some of the other Elves that Elrond had taken the time to point out to her, like Verce, who nodded at Ivy as she preceded Julien's sister around the table. The conversation on the other side of the table continued without acknowledging Haldir's arrival.
Leaning against Dan's solid, comforting shoulder, Ivy whispered, "I can't understand a word Legolas and Glorfindel are saying. Are they speaking some strange dialect of Sindarin?"
"Nope, it's Gondolic. They're the only ones left this side of Valinor who can speak it, because everyone who didn't die when Gondolin was invaded by Morgoth has gone Oversea. Those two use it when they don't want to be overheard."
"Oh." Ivy fell silent as Elrond glided up to the head of the table. Not only did Imladris's master of lore seem terribly tall and imposing this morning, his gaze seemed this side of cold and ominous as he surveyed the table.
Am I sure he's the same Elf-lord who welcomed me so warmly last night? Ivy marveled.
"Our board meeting is due to begin. As you can see, we are short one member. Wendy, do you happen to know where your brother is?"
The raven-haired Elf waved away the question as though it were an annoying insect. "I've no idea. Julien has never let me baby-sit him."
Elrond's expression became darker, but he nodded acknowledgement of the answer. "We shall begin without Julien. As always, this meeting is being video taped for legal and security reasons."
It is? Ivy glanced surreptitiously about the room. Where's the camera?
"For the sake of our corporate minute transcription," Elrond continued, "please be sure to use your Mortal names beginning now."
Ivy's heart rate increased as she felt someone else enter the library. I'll bet that's Julien because my hair's standing on end. Besides, he's the only one missing.
Half-turning, she saw that Julien was indeed making his way down the table. He was dressed in what Ivy assumed had once been a perfectly tailored and very expensive black silk suit. Is that an Armani? Mud was smeared across Julien's back, and he was walking with a definite limp. Not only that, but the slender Elf openly winced as he rounded the table and pushed back his chair to stand opposite Elrond at the end of the table. His perpetual smirk had been replaced with a rather sullen, aggrieved expression, which for some reason pleased Ivy
What happened to him? she wondered. He wasn't limping when he made his entrance in the dining hall this morning.
She couldn't help but contrast Julien's disheveled appearance against Elrond's immaculate demeanor, for the two Elves couldn't have appeared more different if they had deliberately tried. There stood Julien with his dark ringlets cut short in a very Mortal style, and his pointed ears covered by the fringes of his hair. Elrond's waist-length black hair flowed free across his shoulders, and he stood with all the dignity his station and wisdom could afford. His expression inscrutable, he watched Julien's progress.
Setting a thick presentation binder before him, Julien opened it with his left hand, which was shaking. His right arm, Ivy noted, was held against his body at an odd, tense angle.
"Aren't you the embarrassment?" Wendy hissed. "Not only are you late, you're filthy."
"Sorry," came the sullen apology. "I was...unavoidably delayed."
Wendy sniffed. "Maybe you should have delayed a bit longer and changed your clothes."
Leaning against Ivy's shoulder, Dan whispered for her ears only, "I told you Julien would show up damaged this morning."
Startled to remember who would have been the one to damage the Elf, Ivy glanced across the table only to lock eyes with Legolas, who seemed to be watching her reaction carefully.
Did you - she mouthed at Legolas before cocking her head Julien's way.
Legolas gave a tight smile - more of a satisfied smirk, really - before nodding ever so slightly.
Ivy's grin was so wide, it hurt her lips. Thank you, she mouthed.
"I am not concerned for your apparel, Julien Lovell." Elrond's tone was biting and caustic in a way Ivy hadn't heard before. Moving past Legolas and Glorfindel, the Elf-lord stalking toward the other end of the table. "What does concern me is your chronic lateness to these meetings and the implication your time is more important than ours. This shows a singular lack of respect for your fellow board members."
Sorting through his papers, Julien didn't even bother looking up. "It's not my fault I was detained by one of your precious board members. I'm here now, so let's get to it." He handed a stack of folders to the Elf on his right, whom Ivy thought was Sindohte. "Pass round these handouts, would you?"
"I warned you this past June that there would be certain consequences if you were late again."
Julien jumped to realize Elrond was no longer at the opposite end of the table, but was standing practically on top of him. Staring up at the Elf-lord, the shorter Elf narrowed his eyes.
"I seem to recall some sort of threat was issued. But we both know you wouldn't dare."
"Indeed?" Grabbing Julien by the back of the collar, Elrond began hauling him down the length of the table.
"What the bloody hell?" The Elf howled. "Take your hands off me!"
"All in good time." The ease with which the Elf-lord moved made the Julien's weight seem as nothing despite his flailing arms, inevitable shocked screeching and impotent dragging of feet.
Moving behind Haldir's desk, Elrond held onto his quarry and flipped up the window latch. The ancient glass groaned in its frame - a deep, moaning protest before Elrond shoved Julien head first through the open window. The Elf's suited torso and violently thrashing legs followed, only to be dispatched downward with a quick push. A muffled thump followed by a yelp confirmed Julien's landing below.
"If you are late again," Elrond called out the window, "you will find yourself once more thrust outside and the front door locked against you."
Closing and locking the window against the shouted curses and epithets floating up from below, Elrond turned and strode back to the head of the table. Glancing round the table, he settled into his chair as though tossing tardy Elves out of windows was an everyday occurrence.
"Let us begin."
"What about Julien?" Ivy hissed at Dan.
"He'll fight free of the gorse bushes he landed in and eventually find the front door."
"But it's wet and snowing out there!"
"So?" Dan looked at her mildly. "Then I guess he'll be cold and wet by the time he gets back in. Easier landing than he deserved, though."
Good point, thought Ivy. Part of her was a bit shocked at the violence Elrond had just proven himself capable of, but most of her was cheering. I think one thing's for sure: these Elves say what they mean and do what they say they'll do. Two transgressions on Julien's part, and two consequences followed. Sorry, Mom. You were right, Elves are dangerous. But I think I'm going to like having them in my life.