YULETIDE TALES 2003
"THE TW(ELF) DAYS OF YULE"
This is a series of 12 ficlets, pure fluffy silliness, which will be rated G - PG-13, depending on the day. Gen, het, slash - something for everybody. Beta-read by Eveiya, thanks a lot!
I wish you all a joyful festive season. And if you, between unwrapping presents and digging into the Christmas dinner, should stop a moment to think of those who have less or nothing, you might feel like sharing your happiness, and go here:
DOCTORS WITHOUT BORDERS
5 dollars can make a difference - and a donation in honour of somebody rather than presenting him with another tie or ashtrey he or she doesn't need might be a nice idea this Christmas, too...
Thanks!
Erestor
THE FIFTH NIGHT OF YULE
"'It is the fifth day of Yule, now let us sing,
all hails for the return of the pumpkin-king"
When Elrond entered the room, Celeborn and Gil-galad sat over a game of chess. Both looked up, but Celeborn had to turn around to see who entered, so Gil quickly used the opportunity to move some of his opponent's pieces, which earned him a disapproving look from Elrond.
"How are the Yule preparations proceeding?" Celeborn asked, eyeing the Lord of Imladris, for once not in robes, but in breeches and tunic, appreciatively.
Elrond sighed.
"I hope everything will be fine by Yule. But so far, the kitchen looks like a battlefield and Orophin is close to hanging Haldir from the Yule tree as a special ornament. Love, peace and cookies all around."
Gil noticed the large black spot on Elrond's jerkin, and pointed at it.
"What happened? Did you notice that your clothes are stained?"
Elrond grumbled, staring down at the large spot.
"Eldarion dropped the ink bottle," he said, and Celeborn grinned.
"Again? Well, at least this time you were the target, not I. Did he have any more accidents?"
"No," Elrond replied, "not in the last ten minutes, anyway. He even managed to carry his toys from the Great Hall to his chamber without dropping anything or falling down the stairs."
"He did? Then there is still hope," Celeborn said, and added, not without glee, "but I must say, dear Elrond, that he obviously takes after your part of the family. He reminds me a lot on Elladan in certain respects."
Before Elrond could voice any protest, there was a knock on the door, and an Elfling entered. He had dark hair, blue eyes, and two thin braids which stuck from his head at odd angles; he had obviously made them himself. Once he saw Celeborn, his eyes lit up, and he ran towards his great-grandfather.
Unfortunately, the future king of Gondor stumbled over the rug and fell flat on his nose. He lay there for a moment, then he began to cry, a pitiful, wailing cry that only small children can produce, a sound more horrible than all the ringwraiths shrieking in chorus, and Celeborn quickly rushed over to his great-grandson and picked him up.
"Penneth, come here, and calm down, nothing has happened," he said, carrying the child toward the shelf with the cookie jar.
"Hurt!" Eldarion sniffed, pointing at his knee, and he wiped his nose with this sleeve.
"No, you are not hurt, only your pride might be damaged, and I am most certain that a cookie will help you to overcome that particular pain."
Celeborn gave the child one of Elrond's cookies, and immediately, the child stopped crying, and bit into the sweet treat.
"Thank you, greater ada," he said, though it sounded more like "Dunk you," as his two front teeth were missing.
Celeborn turned to face Elrond.
"Now say thank you to your grand ada too, Eldarion – after all, these are his cookies."
Eldarion, who knew how to wrap Celeborn around his little finger but had the greatest respect for the stern father of his mother, glanced shyly over at Elrond, who noticed with a certain degree of amusement that the braids of the Elfling were fixed with two different coloured clasps.
It really did run in the family, then.
"It is fine, Eldarion. You may eat all the cookies you like here."
"Indeed," Gil said, staring pointedly at Celeborn's waist, "it is much better if you eat all the cookies, for if you do not, somebody else will."
Celeborn bit down a snarky remark, for he didn't want to start a fight with Gil in front of the Elfling.
"But why are you still awake, Eldarion?" Elrond asked, "It is well past your bedtime!"
"I was helping Uncle Fin and Estorel to make cookies. But I dropped the bowl with the dough and got all dirty, so I had to take a bath. Nana was a bit angry, but ada said it was normal for Elflings of my age to look like a mudpie. Did you look like a mudpie too when you were an Elfling, grand ada?"
Celeborn snickered when he saw Elrond blush. Before the Lord of Rivendell could answer the question, Gil remarked: "Oh yes – he was a walking mudpie. There was no puddle he failed to fall into, penneth, trust me - I was there."
Elrond rolled his eyes.
"Now really, Gil – I do not think it is appropriate…" he began, but Gil cut him off.
"It is always appropriate to tell the truth, dear friend. And there is nothing dishonourable about the fact that you have developed from a clumsy Elfling into a perfect Elf renowned for his wisdom and elegance."
Eldarion, who had followed the banter with great interest, tugged on Celeborn's braid, and the former Lord of the Golden Wood winced.
"Will I be an elegant Elf, too, one day?" he asked, and Celeborn nodded.
"You will be an elegant Elf and great king, but for now, you are an Elfling in need of sleep, so say good-night to your grand ada and King Pumpkin, and I shall take you to your chamber myself."
Gil gnashed his teeth, but the child laughed and clapped his hands.
"Goodie! Will you tell me a story, greater ada?" he asked, and Celeborn nodded.
"Yes, of course I will, Eldarion. I will tell you the story of the Pumpkin King, and how he ended as pie on the table of the Great Lord of Lórien. It is a classic tale, you will like it."
With that, Celeborn and Eldarion left the room, and Celeborn couldn't refrain from showing Gil-galad his tongue before he left.
"One word about his last comment, Elrond, and I shall crack this chess board on your head," he warned the lord, who tried without success to stifle a giggle.
"I would never dare to comment on such a thing, dear Ereinion," he finally said.
"Fine. I would hate to be forced to sign my letters in future with 'Ereinion Gil-galad, Non-Pumpkin'," the former king grumbled, and now Elrond couldn't hold back anymore and laughed like a ten year old, a sound Gil enjoyed greatly.
"You should do this more often, Elrond," he said, "laughing becomes you. You are too serious, dear friend."
Elrond calmed down, then he sat down beside Gil-galad.
"I know. But this is my fate – I hold the life and the well-being of so many in my hands, I do not dare to lower my guard, Gil."
The tall Elf took one of Elrond's hands in his own.
"But you should still enjoy life, Elrond. You have so many good advisors here, surely you could let them carry out some of your duties?"
Elrond sighed.
"I could – but I always worry. When I was away from Imladris, I knew that Erestor would take care of everything, but half of my heart always stayed here, and in the end, I returned, for I could not find sleep at night and worried that something terrible might happen."
"I am sad to hear this, for I am sure you can trust Erestor. Certainly, he resembles a crow rather than an Elf and he would certainly not mind if I left here, but he is capable, and anybody who dares to bond to Glorfindel must have the heart of a Balrog."
Elrond laughed silently.
"Erestor his one of my dearest friends – I am sure he likes you better than you think, he just does not show it. Glorfindel believed Erestor disliked him for millennia, and you see what the outcome is."
Gil-galad pulled a face.
"I hope you are not implying that I will end up being bonded to Erestor and fathering a couple of Elflings with him, for I certainly have no wish to do so!"
Now Elrond had to giggle again.
"Dear me, no! What a thought – you would be at each other's throats within minutes - if Glorfindel did not get you before then, that is! No, what I am trying to say is: do not let him fool you. If you ignore his attitude, he can become a dear friend, and you need friends, Ereinion."
The other Elf nodded.
"Yes, I need friends, mine are all in the Halls of Waiting or on their way to Mirkwod."
"You miss Amaris," Elrond stated, and after a moment, Gil-galad nodded.
"I do. I never thought that I would admit such a thing, but yes, I miss him. Something is missing in my life since there is no longer anyone here to insult me."
Elrond gently stroked the large hand which covered his own.
"I am not a good friend, I suppose. I have less time for you than I should, and I do not insult you enough."
Gil-galad didn't answer this, but Elrond saw well the pain in the dark blue eyes.
"You know that I love you," he finally said, and the former king looked up in surprise.
"No," he replied, "to be quite honest: I do not think you love me, Elrond. I am an anachronism. I do not belong here. I have embarrassed you with my presence many times, and – so often I feel younger than you."
Elrond squeezed the large hand.
"You do belong here," he said, his tone quiet, but firm, "you always did. I have never stopped mourning you, not for one day in all these millennia. So often I dreamt about the way things would be if you were here, and when it happened, I – could not handle it. Yes, you are younger than me now, and you do many things I do not understand. But…" and with that, he ran his fingers tenderly over Gil's face, "there was a time when I was the younger of us too, foolish and with a quick temper, testing my king's patience a dozen times over with my foolishness and thoughtless deeds, and not once did he give me a harsh word or show embarrassment. All I know and all I have learned I owe to you, Ereinion – we were happy back then, we can be happy now. We just have to accept that the roles are reversed."
Gil enjoyed Elrond's gentle touch. How often had he remembered this feeling in the past ages, and how good it was to actually live and feel again, and to be here – with his love.
"So you mean that now I am the herald who has to learn, and you are the king to teach me?" he said, and Elrond smiled.
"I would not put it like that. We both know many things the other does not, so we should share our knowledge and our experience . We both have many stones, let us build a house."
Gil-galad moved forward, he was now so close to Elrond that he could feel his breath on his face, and he noticed with joy that the lord did not move away.
"Well then, Elrond, so be it – it makes not much of a difference, as you have been my king from the first moment we kissed, and my heart has been your kingdom ever since, nobody else ever ruled it. I will be your most loyal servant."
With that, he closed the gap between himself and Elrond, and their lips met for a kiss which started out sweet and loving, and turned more and more passionate, for neither of them wanted to break it, so finally, Elrond found himself lying in front of his fireplace with Gil-galad on top of him, and by the Valar, this was something he could get used to again!
"So, my king," Gil-galad purred, slowly unbuttoning Elrond's tunic, "are there any new tricks you can teach your humble servant?"
"I do not think so," Elrond gasped, trying his best not to faint again at the sensations Gil's lips on his skin produced, "but I have every intention of reading 'Mirkwood Love Secrets' over the next few days."
"No need to do so, my lovely," Gil murmured, pushing aside many layers – too many for his taste – of cloth, "I know the book by heart. Tell me a number between 1 and 99", he added, and Elrond gave him a puzzled look.
"A number? Why… well… 17?"
Gil-galad laughed.
"Well – that is for the more experienced readers, Elrond - I would suggest we start with position number 3, which is a classic and mostly very well received, and just made for a Herald to serve his King," he said, and began to unbutton Elrond's breeches.
"And what, if I dare to ask, IS position number 3?" Elrond said, lifting his hips to assist Gil with his task.
But there came no answer - position No. 3 did not allow show and tell at the same time.
* * *
"Another day over, the fifth it has been
Tomorrow we'll visit some Galadhrim."
* * *
Author's note: if you want to know what "Position No. 17" looks like, you can do so by clicking on the following link. Pira, the gifted spirit, has drawn a hilarious picture - the stunt in question is performed by Erestor and Glorfindel... it is NC-17 rated, and you MUST be of legal age to watch it. Do NOT go there if copulating male Elves squick you!
POSITION NO. 17 - NC-17
