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 TWELFTH NIGHT OF YULE - PART 2
Prequel to "Finding Námo"
"The last part, dear readers, is finally here,
have my love, and good wishes, for the upcoming year!"
"Elrond said you should rest, Erestor - and one should think that you, as one who can read dwarfish cookery recipes and poems in Westron, would be able to understand the meaning of the word 'rest' in your own language!" Glorfindel barked, his face red with anger.
Erestor, who sat in a bed covered with books, scrolls, letters and files, batted his lashes at his husband.
"But Fin - I am resting! See? You told me to stay in bed, and I AM staying in bed."
"Yes - indeed, and your little scroll-shuffler here brings all the stress, the worries and letters into your bed chamber. Now really, Melpomaen - I would have thought you had more sense."
The young advisor shrunk under Glorfindel's anger, and Erestor felt pity for him.
"Fin - do not take it out on Melpomaen. I asked him to bring me these documents, for as much as I am enjoying the rest, there are a million things to do, and I..."
"Enough!" Glorfindel said, cutting off Erestor's speech with a sharp gesture of his hand. Then he collected all the scrolls, books and other items and loaded them into Melpomaen's arms; the poor young Elf could hardly see anything anymore from under his load.
"Thank you for bringing these along, Melpomaen, and now take them back where they came from, and you had best stay there, too," Fin growled, and the young advisor made for the door as fast as he could.
"Melpomaen," Erestor called, glaring at his husband angrily, "would you like to have a glass of mulled wine with us this evening? I do not want you to sit alone in your chamber on Yule Eve."
Melpomaen tried to shake his head, but as this would have sent at least two scrolls flying, he didn't.
"That is most generous of you, Master Erestor, but ... I was sort of invited... Lord Celeborn, you know..." he stuttered, and Erestor, alerted, cocked an eyebrow.
"Lord Celeborn has invited you, Melpomaen? Now that is very generous - who else will attend?"
"Oh - nobody, Master Erestor, just Lord Celeborn and I."
"Indeed - how... nice." Erestor said, glaring daggers at Fin who had his back to Melpomaen and rolled his eyes.
"Then I wish you a very nice evening, my friend."
"Thank you!" Melpomaen said, his smiling face hidden behind three heavy books, and he all but danced out of the door.
As soon as he had left, Erestor folded his arms over his chest.
"Fin - did you hear that?"
"Yes. Elrond has Pumpkin, and Celeborn has Fig," Glorfindel grinned, but Erestor was not in the mood for joking.
"Glorfindel! This is NOT funny! Melpomaen is young, and he is, in certain aspects of life, naïve and innocent. I will not allow Celeborn to - do whatever it is he intends to do!"
Fin sighed.
"I agree with you, dear - but what can we do? They are both old enough to make their own decisions, so what do you expect me to do? Tell Celeborn to keep his fingers off your apprentice?"
"No," Erestor said, swinging his legs out of the bed and grabbing for his robe, "this I will tell him myself."
And with that, he was out of the door quicker than Glorfindel could protest, Glorfunkle in tow, and Fin almost felt pity for the Lord of the Golden Wood.
Almost.
* * *
"I have an early Yule present for you," Orophin said upon entering the Healing House, and Elladan, who had turned around when he heard his husband's voice, stared at Eldanar, who clung to Orophin like ivy to a tree. Behind them followed Haldir and Mela, both looking concerned.
"Uh?" Elladan said, rather intelligently, and Orophin grinned.
"We have a guest for tonight, Elladan. But before we put this Elfling in the bath tub, I would like you to see if he is injured or has any bruises that need treatment."
Elladan nodded, deciding that there would be enough time to ask questions later, and Orophin carried the child over to the examination table. He tried to put Eldanar down, but the boy refused, clinging to Orophin's jerkin.
"Eldanar - this is Elladan, my husband. Remember? I have told you about him, he is a Half-elf, too. He is also a healer, and he wants to help you. I will not go anywhere, but you must let go now, and sit here on the table. Will you do that for me?"
Eldanar considered this a moment, then the curiosity to see another Half-elf overruled his fear, and he slipped out of Orophin's arms and sat down obediently on the table, staring at Elladan with big eyes.
"You have nice ears," he finally said, after inspecting Elladan's face, "not as nice as Orophin's ears, but they are nicer than mines. I have ugly ears," he added, and Elladan had a quick look at the two offending body parts.
"They look fine enough for me, penneth, despite the fact that one could grow carrots in them at the moment" he said, and winked at Eldanar, "and thank you for your compliments. Now - Eldanar, that is your name, correct?" The child nodded, and Elladan crouched down so he didn't tower above the boy.
"Now, Eldanar - as Orophin told you, I am a healer. Do you hurt anywhere? Did you fall or bump yourself?"
The boy shook his head, but allowed Elladan to peel him out of the rags. The healer frowned.
"When was the last time you ate anything, little one?" he asked, and Eldanar blushed.
"I do not know. Two or three days ago. It is difficult to find something in the forest with all the snow."
Elladan shook his head, listened to Eldanar's breathing and heartbeat, checked for bruises and scratches, and finally stroked the boy's head.
"From what I can tell, he is not hurt, Orophin. What he needs now is food and a bath, in exactly that order. Food in boy, boy in bath."
"Good. I will take him with me, my wife can prepare something to eat, we can bath him, and my oldest one's clothes should fit him, too," Mela said, and tried to pick up Eldanar, but the child shrieked and immediately clung to Orophin again.
"No! You said you would not send me away!" he whimpered, and began to cry again.
"There, there, little one, of course you can stay with us," Orophin said, hugging the child and kissing the dirty hair. He gave Mela and Haldir a sign, and the two turned to leave.
"I look forward to seeing you again tonight, Eldanar," Haldir said, and waved at the boy, and the Elfling smiled back through his tears.
When the door closed behind the two Elves, Orophin made Eldanar face him.
"I will tell you what we are going to do now, little one. I will bring you to our chambers, and while I do this, Elladan will get you a nice meal from the kitchen. Then you will eat, and the bath should be prepared in no time."
"With cake?" Eldanar asked hopefully, and Orophin nodded.
"Of course - it would not be a proper meal without cake."
With that, he wrapped Eldanar up in his cloak again and picked him up.
"I will get the food and see you later," Elladan said, and smiled at the child, "and I will get hot chocolate for all of us, too."
Eldanar snuggled up closer to Orophin, and whispered: "Your husband is very nice."
Orophin laughed.
"Yes, I know - that is why I married him!"
"Despite his small ears?" Eldanar asked, and Orophin grinned.
"Eldanar, in time you will learn that size does not matter," he said, "and the best things come in small packages, anyway."
"Now I heard that!" Elladan's voice could be heard from the Healing House, and though Eldanar did not understand why Orophin laughed in reply, he decided that he liked both Elves very much, and maybe, if he was really good, they would keep him.
He put his thumb in his mouth, buried his face in Orophin's hair and sighed happily.
* * *
Celeborn was draped lazily on his bed, reading one of Elrond's books from the Secret Library, when an unexpected visitor knocked on the door. He didn't bother to get up, assuming it was a servant with a message, so he just called "Come in!" and resumed his reading.
He immediately sat up when he saw that it was Master Erestor, followed by one of his feathered beasts.
"Erestor - what can I do for you? Are you well again?" he asked, surprised at this visit from Elrond's advisor. Not that he minded having beautiful Elves wearing little more than a light silk robe in his bedroom, but with Erestor, one never knew if Glorfindel wouldn't turn up any second, ready to break noses and necks.
"I am fine, thank you, my lord," Erestor said, "I shall return to my chambers immediately after you have told me what your intentions regarding Melpomaen are."
"Melpomaen?"
Celeborn cocked an eyebrow.
"I am most afraid that I do not know what you are talking about, Erestor."
Erestor looked at Celeborn, and the Lórien Elf felt as if those dark eyes saw directly into the bottom of his soul, and he shifted uncomfortably, for the bottom of his soul more resembled the bottom of a mirky old duck pond than that of a clear mountain lake.
"You do not - I am relieved to hear this, my lord. For if there had been any intentions regarding Melpomaen on your part, I would have been forced to make a very boring and tiring speech now about the possible consequences of any attempt to take advantage of a young, innocent and easily impressed Elf like Melpomaen. But I am glad to see such a speech will not be necessary."
'This,' Celeborn decided, 'is a really scary and possibly insane Elf', and he eyed the large carrion crow which had settled on Erestor's shoulder and was now glaring at him with suspicion, then he shook his head.
"Master Erestor - your concern does you all honour, though it is uncalled for. Melpomaen is hardly older than Estorel, I merely do not wish the young one to spend this evening alone, and I owe him some gratitude. There is nothing more to it."
Erestor, who had his suspicions about the origin of Melpomaen's and Celeborn's bruises but had not managed to get any further information out of the young Elf, nodded.
"I am delighted to hear this. It is so rare these days to meet an Elf in your position who is of such a heart-warming selflessness."
He batted his eye lashes and Celeborn, who saw the sarcasm literally dripping to the floor, decided not to get into an argument with Elrond's chief advisor, an Elf who was known for having a tongue as sharp as his twin knives, and just as deadly.
"Yes, they do not make Elves like me these days," Celeborn said, and sighed deeply, "so it is a delight to know that at least you appreciate my real worth, my dear Erestor. Be assured that no harm will befall your protégé in my presence, and that you will find him behind his desk the day after tomorrow in one piece, all fresh and healthy like a Shire peach."
Erestor bowed his head, and turned towards the door, where he halted for a moment, and gave Celeborn a sly smile.
"You know what Shire farmers do with naughty Hobbitlings who steal their fruits, my lord?"
With that, he was out of the door, and Celeborn wasn't quite sure what irritated him more: that Erestor had compared him with a Hobbit or that he had compared Melpomaen with a peach.
* * *
Eldanar sat on Orophin's lap and was thoroughly happy. The meal had been excellent, fruits, meat, bread, cheese, and a huge piece of chocolate cake which Elladan had snatched from the buffet for this evening at great risk for the chef had announced that he would personally cut the ears off anybody, be it servant, lord or king, who dared to lay a hand on the delicious foods before the celebrations had officially opened. Elladan had crawled under the long table, grabbed the cake and quickly escaped up the stairs before anybody noticed. The long years of practice in food-stealing as an Elfling now paid off.
The boy was wrapped in a large, fluffy towel after a long soak in the bath. He had admired the mosaic and the painted fishes, and had been relieved when no carrots had been found in his ears - he had been a little worried that they would have been served for dinner.
Mela had brought some of his eldest son’s clothing in the meantime, and currently, Orophin was trying to comb Eldanar's long hair, which was not an easy task; as there were mats which needed special attention, and the Elfling found it increasingly difficult to sit still.
"You have nice braids," he said, and shyly touched Elladan's hair. The dark tresses were already braided and ornamented for this evening's celebrations, and the beads and jewels fascinated the child.
"Thank you, Eldanar," Elladan smiled, and gently stroked the child's cheek. "What do you think - shall I braid your hair, too, once it is dry?"
"Oh! You would do this?" Eldanar said, getting all excited. "Can you make me braids like yours?"
"Now, that would be a bit difficult, little one, as your hair is not long enough yet, but I could make you the same braids Orophin wears now," Elladan said, and pointed at his husband's simple warrior braids.
Eldanar ran his hands over the braids, and smiled shyly. "Oh, I would love that! But only warriors have braids, and I am not a warrior..." he added, a little disappointed, but Elladan slapped his arm playfully.
"Not yet, you silly, but one day, you will be. So these will be 'Warrior In Waiting' braids, and I will also put some of Orophin's beads in them, so you will be the most handsome Elfling tonight."
Eldanar giggled.
"Thank you! You are very nice! And why do you have these beads? My nana said only girls wear beads."
Elladan swallowed down a rather uncharitable remark regarding Eldanar's nana, and explained instead that these specific colours were a sign that he was married.
Eldanar thought about it for a while, then he said: "So you and Orophin are married, and Haldir is your Elfling. You are a real family then, right?"
Orophin and Elladan exchanged a look, then Elladan said: "Yes, we are a family. And a very happy family, and we are happy that you are now here and part of this family."
The child flew out of Orophin's arms and into Elladan's, giving him a big wet kiss on the cheek. Elladan was more than a little embarrassed about this enthusiastic expression of emotion, so he cleared his throat and freed himself of the boy.
"Now, Eldanar - get into the clothes quickly so you will not catch a cold, and while you do so, I will get something for you."
With that, he disappeared into the next room, and Orophin heard him rummaging in his cupboard. Eldanar quickly slipped into the clothes, and Orophin was just about to fiddle with the lacings of the shirt when Elladan came back into the room, holding both hands hidden behind his back.
"Here is a present for you, Eldanar - tell me, which hand do you want?"
"Hmmmm..." Eldanar said, and his eyes wandered from Elladan's left side to his right.
"I take the left hand," he finally said, and he was very disappointed when the hand Elladan brought forward was empty.
"This was just a test, try again," he said, and this time, Eldanar chose the right hand.
"Congratulations! You just won a friend for life!" Elladan grinned, and gave the boy a stuffed toy in the form of a green dragon. It was obvious the cuddly toy had been played with a lot, for one eye was missing and the cloth on the right wing was already very thin, but Eldanar cheered as if he had just been given the biggest gift of his life, and who knows, maybe he had.
"This is Tathar," Elladan said, "he was my best friend when I was an Elfling, well, beside my brother Elrohir, and he will always look after you."
Eldanar danced around the room, laughing and hugging the toy, then he took the dragon's wing and waved at his two hosts.
"Say hello to Elladan and Orophin!" he cried, and both Elves waved back, big smiles on their faces at the sight of the laughing child.
"You once did not speak to Elrohir for three weeks because he had put a bonnet on your dragon's head, Elladan", Orophin said in a low voice.
"Indeed - it was a frilly bonnet, and it was pink, too! On my dragon! Tathar had nightmares for months!" Elladan snorted. Orophin put his arm around Elladan's waist and made him sit on his lap, ignoring the chair which protested under the additional weight of the large Elven warrior. He nuzzled his neck, then pressed a gentle kiss on Elladan's lips.
"These are the moments when I see what a treasure you really are, beloved," he murmured, and Elladan returned the kiss, running his hands through the long, silver blond hair.
"As I have been such a good Elf today, is there any chance I will get a reward tonight?" he said, and wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at his husband.
"Only if you wear the pink frilly bonnet during dinner," Orophin purred, and Elladan whacked him on the head. Orophin fought back by tickling his husband, and the following friendly scuffle was too much for the chair - it collapsed, sending the two Elves flying, and they landed on the ground in a giggling heap.
"Look, Tathar," Eldanar said to his dragon, "these are grown-ups, but they are very silly!"
Elladan laughed, placed a loud, wet kiss on Orophin's nose and giggled: "We cannot help it, Eldanar - we are Elves, we were born like this!"
A statement Tathar the dragon fully agreed with, but as he was a wise dragon, he did not comment.
* * *
"You must be joking", Rúmil said, and stared first at his brother, then at the horse, and then at the Rohirrim.
"No, Sir, 't is all just like your brother said," the captain explained, "this is a present for you."
"But who would give me a horse?" Rúmil sighed, and patted the neck of the beautiful steed, who seemed to enjoy his new master's touch.
"Don't know, Sir. I just had orders to deliver the horse in time. Don't you want to try him? It's from the king's stables, Sir, best horses we have. It's not like we'd give them away to just anybody, you know," the captain said, a little bit irritated by the Elf's behaviour.
"Rúmil, stop being difficult. Somebody found you worthy of a horse, which is, I admit it, a surprise, for I would have given you a jackass to suit your follies. Be happy, have a ride and try not to break your neck in the process," Orophin said, and the Elves present snickered. Rúmil grumbled something, but then his curiosity got the better of him and he quickly mounted the horse.
"What are you waiting for?" Haldir asked, then he whispered something into the horse's ear, and immediately, the animal neighed and literally flew out of the stables, across the courtyard and down the street. Rúmil yelled something, but they didn't understand him as his words were drowned in laughter.
"An amazing animal," Mela said, and Orophin nodded.
"Yes - an amazing animal for an amazing Elf."
Celeborn stood on his balcony, saw Rúmil riding out of the stables and grinned.
"A very generous present, my dear," Galadriel said, and Celeborn almost jumped over the balustrade when he heard his wife's voice.
"For the Valar's sake, Galadriel - must you always sneak up like this?" he gasped.
"Yes, I must, for I greatly enjoy seeing you confused," she answered, and managed to see Rúmil disappearing into the forest.
He rolled his eyes.
"So you know," he said, and she nodded.
"Of course I do. And when will he know, Celeborn? Do you not think that he has a right to know where he comes from and who his father is?"
Celeborn turned around and looked at the Elves below who probably discussed Rúmil's mysterious present.
"As far as he is concerned, he does have a father already. Too many father's can ruin a family, and our family history is complicated enough the way it is."
Galadriel stepped closer, and put a hand on her former husband's arm.
"Why the horse then, Celeborn? Do you not think he will try to find out who sent it? And when he finds out - will he not wonder why you, of all Elves, made him such a valuable gift?"
Celeborn shrugged.
"Every boy should get his first horse from his father," he said.
"Celeborn - he is over five millennia old, your 'boy'."
"Why makes him a baby compared to me - and you," he smugly added, but she let it pass this time.
"And the horse was not that expensive, anyway."
She cocked an eyebrow.
"Cards?" she asked.
"No. Dice." he replied.
Galadriel shook her head.
"Poor Eómer."
* * *
Elrohir had retreated to the room closest to the Great Hall, shut the door and sat now in one of his father's favourite chairs, hidden from the eyes of the merry Elves, holding a glass of Miruvor and staring into the fire. They were all so happy - his father, his brother, Arwen and her king, the children, Erestor and Glorfindel... all he loved were happy, so what kind of Elf did it make him, that he sat there and was sad?
Elrond's youngest son sighed. He had hardly ever felt as superfluous as he did tonight, and when his wish for quiet and solitude had become overwhelming, he had left without saying good-bye, and nobody had even noticed. The wood in the fire crackled, and muffled laughter could be heard from the Great Hall. A pine cone burst in the fire, and Elrohir started.
"And again I find you sad, child. This is becoming a habit."
Elrohir quickly turned to look around, and of course, there he was, sitting in the next chair, stretched out lazily like a big cat, holding a glass of wine.
"I am not sad," the young Elf said with as much dignity as he could muster, "and I wish to be alone. Please respect this. I do not see why you are here tonight, surely you have some souls to collect somewhere?"
Námo smiled and took a sip of the wine, rolling the fluid around in his mouth before swallowing it.
"A lovely wine. Your father knows how to entertain his guests. But to answer your questions: I do not collect souls like your chef collects mushrooms, child. I call them, they follow, and some - well, some need to be shown the way. The young ones, the confused ones - and the stubborn ones."
"Like Orophin?" Elrohir asked, and Námo nodded.
"Yes - he was very stubborn. But in the end, they always follow my call, for this is nature's way. Our lives are circles, there is no beginning and no end. A highly philosophical matter which I will be delighted to discuss with you some other time, young one, but now I wish to know the reason for your sadness. I hope it is not my presence?"
The Vala looked at Elrohir with those unnerving, yet already familiar liquid black eyes, and for a second, Elrohir was terribly tempted to tell the Doomsman that, indeed, his sadness was all the Vala's fault, and, while he was at it, blame Námo for the political situation, bad harvest and lousy weather as well, but in the end, he only shrugged.
"Even if it was, there is not much I could do about it, now is there," Elrohir sighed, and lifted the glass to his lips again. "You can do whatever you want, and I have to live with it."
Námo shook his head, and Elrohir secretly admired how the long black hair cascaded over the Vala's back - like water, as if it had a life on its own.
"Even I have to follow rules, child. Nobody is free to do whatever comes into their minds. But if I felt that my presence truly annoyed you, I would not be here. I bring Death, child - not headaches."
For a while, the two sat in silence, and Elrohir was not that unhappy to have company, even if it was Death himself. Again, muffled laughter could be heard, then a clear, clinking sound, and he could hear Glorfindel talk. A speech - one of many. He could not hear the words, but his old tutor's voice was comforting, and he almost started when everybody clapped and cheered, and soon enough, the music began to play again, the voice of the minstrel carrying through the air like a silver bell.
"You have just missed an important announcement, young one," Námo said, then dipped his index finger in the wine and began to run the digit over the rim of the glass, producing a high, singing sound.
"Desert buffet is opened?" Elrohir asked.
"No, Erestor is expecting", Námo answered, and Elrohir finally smiled.
"This is good news," he said, "I will congratulate them later. I am glad these two are happy. I am glad everybody is happy."
"But you would be even more glad if you were happy, too," Námo stated, and after a moment of hesitation, Elrohir nodded.
"Elladan and I are twins - that is more than being brothers. We always knew each other's thoughts, even if we did not speak them out loud. Every so often, he would finish a sentence I began, or I would hand him the bread during lunch without him asking, just because I knew this was what he wanted. We never had any secrets, shared everything. And then came Orophin - yes, we are still close, but it is not the same."
Námo nodded, and waited for Elrohir to continue.
"Do not think that I have forgotten what you told me about houses and rooms. I do not want to take the first place in my family's hearts but... on Yule Eve, it would be nice to have - somebody," Elrohir continued, and he looked a little lost. Námo didn't answer, instead, he re-filled Elrohir's glass, and after another sip, the young Elf began to feel tired, his eyes glazed over, and before he could ask Námo what he was up to this time, he had fallen asleep.
~~~ Elrohir dreams ~~~
"This is my sword!" the Elfling said.
"No, it is mine!" the other, who looked almost identical replied, and tugged on the wooden sword.
"Mine!"
"No, mine!"
One barked, the other bit, the sword flew aside, and within seconds, the two boys were rolling around on the floor, tearing on braids and shouting at each other.
"Stop it, you two! No arguing on Yule Eve!" Elrohir said, and separated his sons by grabbing each of them by the collar.
"He started it!" one hissed, "No, he did!" the other cried, and Elrohir shook his head.
"One day, you two will be the death of me," he sighed, "your uncle Elladan and I never argued when we were little."
"That is not true"; one of the Elflings said, pouting, "Uncle Elladan told us that you always put a silly bonnet on his toy dragon."
Elrohir had to grin.
"That was millennia ago, penneth - it is no excuse for you two to behave like two drunken cave trolls."
Both boys looked at the floor and shuffled their feet.
"I am sorry, ada", the two said at almost the same moment, and Elrohir ran his hands over the boy's heads.
"It is already forgotten, little ones. And now clean up, or your great ada will give you a lecture about the proper behaviour of Elflings again."
His sons rolled their eyes, then they suddenly perked up and ran to the door, which opened and revealed a lean figure, wrapped in a heavy cloak, snowflakes melting on the cloth.
Elrohir's eyes lit up.
"Beloved!" he said, but before he could see the face of his mate, a pine cone cracked in the fire, and he woke up.
For a moment, Elrohir was confused, and it took him a while to leave fully the land of dreams and return to reality. The chair beside him was empty, a half-full glass of wine stood on the armrest, and from the Great Hall, music and laughter was heard.
Elrohir stared at the glass, then into the fire, and to his great amazement, all sadness and melancholy had left his heart. Instead, he felt all warm and cosy, and a smile played around his lips. He emptied his glass, then he got up to join the merry crowd again.
What a wonderful present he had been given - the best Yule present ever.
* * *
Fin carefully laid Erestor, who had giggled like an Elfling all the way from the Great Hall to their chambers, on the bed.
"I told you to stay clear of the Shire Brandy, dear," he said, but all he got from Erestor was another giggle.
He sighed, then he stepped through the door to the nursery, releasing the handmaid from her elfling-sitting duties, and once he had checked that Estorel slept peacefully, he tip-toed back to the bed chamber.
"This was a wonderful evening, Fin," Erestor sighed, and snuggled up to Glorfindel, nuzzling his ear.
"It was fine, beloved," his husband replied, but Erestor was not happy with this statement, and shook hi head.
"No! It was the bestest evening ever!" he insisted, and Fin, who was trying to peel him out of his clothes, nodded.
"Yes, darling, and now be a good advisor and let your husband get you naked."
Erestor purred.
"Hm, I like it when you do this," he said, and there was a wicked smile on his face.
"What?" Fin asked.
"Get me naked", Erestor said, and before Glorfindel could make another move, he found himself flipped onto his back and covered by one very horny Elf.
Erestor licked on his ear, placed small kisses and bites on his neck and made short work with his robes. One forceful tug, and the garment flew across the room.
"Dear me, Erestor," Glorfindel gasped, "maybe you really should drink more often!"
Erestor, who knew exactly where to touch to make his husband squirm, purred again. It was a deep, almost animal-like purr, and Fin knew that he was in for a rather adventurous night.
Their love-making was as wild as it was loving, and finally, Fin rested his head, exhausted, on Erestor's stomach, placing soft kisses along the scar which ran across it. Everything about Erestor was lean, controlled strength and iron will, but his stomach was soft, as if Estorel had left a soft pillow behind when he had left his sia's belly to be born. And now, again, a new life was growing inside Erestor, and Glorfindel found himself crying, which was really silly, but he couldn't help it.
"Fin? Fin, what happened?" Erestor asked, worried and very sober. "Have I hurt you? I really did not intend to, but I got a little carried away, and..:"
"Shhh, no, everything is fine, beloved," Fin said, and ran his fingers tenderly over Erestor's belly.
"I just thought - well, that our new Elfling is in there, and got a bit tearful, I am afraid."
Erestor stroked Glorfindel's hair, and smiled.
"It is a miracle, is it not? I feel so happy, so light - and so loved," he added, and Fin almost felt the warm wave of love which radiated from Erestor, and he moved up to face him. He hugged Erestor close to him, tucked his head under his chin and stroked his back.
"You are the miracle. And just so you know, there will be no running-into-the-woods this time, no visiting Mandos, no meeting old relatives of mine, no matter how dear to me they are. You will have this Elfling here, under Elrond's eyes. Will you promise me this?"
Erestor nodded.
"I promise."
"And no biting, either!" Glorfindel added.
"Awww... you do not want me to have any fun with this birth, Fin. It was not too bad..."
Fin howled.
"'Not too bad?' As in 'Sauron is not a bad guy?' It was a deep wound which needed 16 stitches!"
"It was a small wound, and it only took 8! And anyway: when Bramble was born, Rabbit broke Haldir's arm and his collar bone, so I should think you have no reason to complain!" Erestor sniffed, and Glorfindel groaned.
"Do not bring Rabbit into this, darling: he is a full Plains Elf, he has every right to maul his husband."
"I can be wild, too", Erestor grumbled.
"Yes, but not that wild. I have seen Rabbit licking Haldir dry after a swim in the river. You certainly never did that."
Erestor looked up, and grinned.
"You would like that," he purred, and Fin’s breathing increased at this prospect.
"I will take you up on that offer, darling," he said in a husky voice.
"Very well," Erestor replied, and yawned, "I will ask Rabbit tomorrow to groom you."
And seeing his husband's terrified face, he added: "And while he is at it, he might as well introduce you to the delights of raw crayfish."
With that, Erestor fell asleep, and unlike Glorfindel, he had a very happy smile on his face.
* * *
Melpomaen was already on his fifth glass of mulled Miruvor, and as a consequence, he had given up trying to follow Celeborn's tale quite a while ago. His head was spinning, but in a most pleasant way. What an amazing Yule Eve this had been! Not sitting alone in his chamber and getting melancholic, not attending Lord Elrond's family celebration and feeling like a fifth wheel, either, but sitting here with Lord Celeborn, listening to amazing tales of old, and being a welcome guest rather than a necessary burden.
The young advisor felt great all around. He was warm, he was comfortable, and he was enjoying the company. Oh yes, he was enjoying the company greatly. Lord Celeborn could have read Master Erestor's inventory list of the library, and Melpomaen would have sat there with equal delight, for it was less what Celeborn was saying than that he was saying it. Ai, what a voice! And what an Elf to go with it! If only Celeborn hadn't been Celeborn but somebody else, one of the stable hands, for example, or another advisor, then Melpomaen could have - no. Even then, he wouldn't have. The young elf sighed, knowing himself all too well. His idea of courting was standing in a corner, hoping not to be noticed and gazing longingly at the object of his affections. The few occasions when Melpomaen had actually gotten into the situation of talking to an Elf he had feelings for, he had ended up showering the poor soul in a flood of nonsense words and silly gossip, just to hide his nervousness. Needless to say, things had never developed any further than this.
But for once, he could at least watch without getting into trouble. Melpomaen released a happy sigh, and took another sip of his wine.
Celeborn had noticed well the smile on the young Elf's face. Melpomaen, much to his surprise, had been excellent company. Celeborn had offered to spend Yule Eve with him because he had been grateful for Melpomaen's help, had been impressed, even, and yes, he had felt pity for him. Later, he had regretted the invitation, especially after Erestor's sharp words, but after an initial moment of awkwardness, they had soon engaged in a lively discussion. Yes, it was true: Melpomaen did talk a lot, and he knew every gossip in town, but Celeborn noted well that none of the little stories the young Elf told were vile or hurtful. Embarrassing at times, yes - but there was not one bad word about anyone, and Celeborn began to understand what diplomatic potential Erestor had seen in Melpomaen.
He was also fascinated to see how original Melpomaen's thinking really was. His pet-project - a school for all Elflings, no more home-education - was revolutionary. Children were educated at home, by their parents or, if they could afford one, a tutor.
"What would be the benefit, Melpomaen?" Celeborn asked.
The young advisor, cheeks flushed with excitement over the fact that Lord Celeborn seemed to be interested in his ideas, had sat up and explained with many gestures.
"See, my lord - what makes our society strong is the experience of many, not of only one. If we had a school, where all children were educated together by a variety of tutors, they could profit from all that experience, not only from that of their fathers. You might say: what good does it do the child of a border guard to learn about slaying Balrogs, and how could it profit the child of a lord to learn how to mend his clothes? And I would say: because the child of a border guard might one day come to face a Balrog, and the young lord could find himself in a situation where he has to look after himself, with nobody there to wait on him. And if the young lord knows the work of the border guards, he will value it higher. In Lothlórien, the noble Elves do not always show the guards the respect they deserve."
This had slipped out without intention, and Melpomaen quickly apologized. If he'd had the ability, he would have kicked himself.
"I am most sorry, my lord! I really did not mean to insult you! I..." he stammered, but Celeborn cut him off with a smile.
"Do not apologize for telling the truth, young one. I know well what my lords - the lady Galadriel's lords are like. Your approach unusual approach, but has a point."
From daily life in Rivendell, the discussion had moved on to life in Lothlórien, where Melpomaen had only been once, to attend his sister's wedding. Soon, Celeborn was talking about the times of old, of horrible beasts and heroic warriors, and Melpomaen hardly dared to breathe for fear of interrupting the tale.
Celeborn looked at the young Elf in front of him, and had to smile. Such sweetness - he was obviously a little drunk, a charming flush had spread over his face, and it was a pretty face, the lord had to admit. Not outstanding beauty, but pretty nevertheless, fine features, and large, brown eyes. The bruise on Melpomaen's face had faded to a faint green-yellow, and the scratches were healing. Still, Celeborn was angry - such an incident should never have happened within the borders of Rivendell, and it had basically been his fault. He frowned.
Melpomaen, who had realised the lord had stopped talking and had seen his frown, quickly sat up, swaying a little.
"My lord - have I done anything to upset you?" he asked, rubbing his knees nervously.
Celeborn looked up, surprised.
"Upset me? You? But no, penneth! How did you come to think such a thing?"
Melpomaen blushed, which Celeborn found most endearing, and he brushed a strand of hair behind his ear.
"I saw you looking at me, then you frowned - so I thought I might have done something wrong. My apologies - I am enjoying this evening greatly. And you are the last person I would ever want to upset, my lord. I admire you greatly, and... and..."
Celeborn couldn't help but smile. And because he really had enjoyed the evening, because he was on his 8th glass of wine and because old habits are hard to break, he leant forward and kissed Melpomaen, who went cross-eyed trying to look at Celeborn.
This was nice, Celeborn decided. Soft, warm lips, and his kiss was returned, yet the response was unskilled, and the young Elf trembled. They broke off; Celeborn leant back, and looked at Melpomaen, a smug smile on his face. Oh yes - his charms were still working.
Melpomaen was thunder-struck. He had had more than one thought about the lord which he deemed "inappropriate", and never, ever had he expected - this. His lips were tingling, and he quickly reached up to touch them. What was he supposed to do now? Had he encouraged this? Surely, he must have - why else would the other Elf have done this? Ai Elbereth - what impression would he leave now! Surely the lord must think him to be him a... there wasn't even a suitable word for this! The young Elf only wished for a mouse hole to hide in.
Celeborn had watched with a mixture of amusement and surprise how the young Elf had reacted to the kiss. It would be so easy. He had done it a thousand times before. A bit of wine, smooth words, a touch here, a kiss there, and this little Elf here would be a most charming companion for this night.
And heartbroken the next day.
Celeborn sighed. He reached out to Melpomaen and drew the young, shivering Elf into a comforting embrace and pressed an almost chaste kiss on the soft brown hair.
"Shhh, penneth, no need to get upset. You have done nothing wrong."
Melpomaen said nothing, his head was spinning - from the wine or the kiss, he couldn't tell - but after a while, Celeborn's voice calmed him, and soon, his head rested on the lord's shoulder and the young advisor was fast asleep. Celeborn softly, softly laid Melpomaen down on the sheep skin in front of the fire and covered him with his bed cover. Once he was sure that the young Elf was still sleeping, he left the room without a sound, and headed for the woods - he had hardly ever been more in need of fresh air than now.
On the way out, he passed a mirror, and stopped to look at himself.
"Celeborn, you have been very good and very noble tonight," he said.
Then he left the Last Homely House, and muttered to himself: "You idiot!"
* * *
Elrond slept, but for Gil, dreams would not come this night. It had been a wonderful evening; he could not remember ever having experienced such a Yule Eve celebration, he had been welcomed into the family with open arms and a kick on the shin, courtesy of Celeborn, who insisted that this was an old Lórien family tradition.
The evening had found its satisfying conclusion in some slow, delightful love making, and so there really was nothing left he could wish for: he was alive, he was loved, and he was safe.
And yet, there was something missing.
The former High King stepped out onto the balcony, ignoring the cold, and stared up into the starlit night sky. A beautiful sight - no candles or chandeliers could ever replace this. Out of old habit, he began to count the stars. He always found counting oddly comforting and calming, and more than once he had attracted worried glances on the battle field when he had counted helmets or shields or horses - it kept him calm, and helped him to focus.
2, 3, 7, 12, 18, 19, 20 - 21 stars he saw. Why was this so odd? Why of any importance?
"I beg you, in the name of our friendship: let me go."
Amaris - these had been Amaris' words before he left for Mirkwood. It had been the day Gil-galad noticed for the first time that there were golden speckles in Amaris' eyes.
"21 golden speckles - how come I never noticed?" Gil murmured, and a great sadness filled his heart, so he shook his head over his own folly, stepped back into the chamber and slipped under the covers.
And while he hugged Elrond close to him, many, many days away, a lonely figure sat in a tree in Mirkwood and gazed at the radiant stars.
"Merry Yule, beloved," Amaris whispered, "and may the new year be full of bliss for you."
Then he slipped down from his tree and returned through the silent forest to the palace.
"I wish you the same," Gil-galad murmured, then he fell asleep.
* * *
Author's notes: I would like to thank all of you who have sent me feedback for the "12 Days of Yule" - feedback was a little different this time, as some felt the one or other ficlet hit a chord. Christmas really seems to be a difficult time for many, and I don't really know what to say now, you have shared some very intimate aspects of your lives with me, a complete stranger, and this is very humbling. To read that my silly little writing has put a smile on your faces when you actually felt more like crying is probably the most wonderful feedback I ever got.
Don't thank me - I thank you.