Set in the Glorfindel Lion-heart alternative universe
Dramatis personae: Oropher, his wife, advisor Sloe and Thranduil
Rating: depending on chapter - green to orange
Beta: Miss Enismirdal and Miss Zimraphel. Special thanks to Feronil for the notes.
Amazing artwork making Master Erestor jump for joy: Nellas of Doriath.
Summary: Oropher's first Yule in Greenwood the Great
Author's note: They have become a tradition for me, the Yuletide tales. Something new this year: there are Yuletide tales for all the AUs that I have written. As every year, you will find all universes, all characters and all ratings. Have fun, and a merry, peaceful Yule time to all of you. And if you feel like being generous: Doctors without Borders always need donations. Thank you!
YULETIDE TALES, DAY 1:
Glorfindel Lion-heart:
1/4 - "The Dancing Queen"
"There will be heavy snowfall tonight, my king," the advisor said, gesturing to the clear, blue winter sky. "I had better go and see to it that we have enough firewood for the coming weeks."
Oropher looked doubtfully at the tall, black-haired Elf beside him, who went by the odd name of Sloe.
"Snow? But the weather is excellent, the sun is shining. How can you know there will be snow? Can you sniff it in the air?" he added jokingly.
Sloe nodded, and arched an eyebrow at his king.
"Of course. Every Elf can."
He was very tempted to add 'every real Elf'. In his opinion, making Oropher, a noble Sinda from Doriath, the king of Greenwood the Great, had been about the most idiotic thing the clan council had ever come up with, being topped only by allowing females to join the guards.
But despite this, he did not want to embarrass his new king. One could probably not expect a Sinda to remember the old ways. Sloe was actually surprised Oropher had not managed to get lost in the woods or fall in a swamp yet. Well, he had only been here for three months; there was still hope.
But still Oropher blushed, sensing the other's disapproval.
"Do what you think is needed, Sloe," he said. "If there should be anything that I can do, please let me know."
Sloe nodded briefly, then left to make arrangements for the firewood. Oropher scratched his head.
"He sniffed it. Amazing."
"Yes, very much so. He sniffs snow, calls himself Sloe, and we live in a cave. Life is full of wonders."
Oropher turned to his wife, who stood beside him outside of the Great Cave. She held a large, fur-covered bundle, gently rocking it in the vain hope that their first-born would fall asleep soon. The Elfling was very keen on standing on his own feet. Alas, his parents were worried to let him run around outside at the moment. The winter here in Greenwood the Great might be dangerous for the little one. She tucked in the furs even closer, and only a pair of clear blue eyes and a tuft of golden hair could be seen underneath them.
"I hear sarcasm, my beloved. One could almost think that you do not enjoy our new home." Oropher had reached his wife and put an arm around her shoulder, winking at her in amusement. Then he reached out to stroke lovingly one of his son's tiny ears.
She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Sarcasm? Me? Never! And if you are so fond of the names here, I suggest we adjust to the local customs of the Avari and call our son 'Birchtree' or 'Greenleaf'."
Oropher laughed.
"I think he will be just fine with 'Thranduil'. Much as I respect the people here, I would not want a 'Greenleaf' in my family. Greenleaf of Greenwood - ridiculous!"
The child began to move and protest upon hearing his name, trying to struggle free from his mother.
"Now see what you have done! He is all wound up!" the queen accused her husband, continuing to try and calm her son.
"No, he is nauseous from all the rocking," Oropher grinned, and hurried to move away as his wife attempted to whack him.
"Now please be gentle, dear wife! This is not the right Yule spirit! Peace and love, remember?" he laughed.
"Oh yes, Yule, how good that you mention it. You are aware we are celebrating our first Yule here in Greenwood in a cave, yes? What about the Yule tree?"
Oropher cocked his head.
"What has the tree to do with the cave? I promised you the most beautiful Yule tree of them all, and I keep my promises. I shall go out first thing tomorrow morning and find you a tree so beautiful that all the trees before in Doriath will fade into nothingness."
A shadow fell over her face.
"I miss my home," she said simply, staring down at her tiny son. "I miss our beautiful, beautiful home. I dread sitting here in these caves on Yule evening and realising that we made a horrible mistake."
Oropher came to stand behind her and put his arms around his wife, pulling her close. He rested his head on her shoulder and nodded.
"I miss Doriath too, beloved. And yes, these caves here are not Menegroth. But our home is no more. The people of these woods are different from us, with their wild and rebellious ways. But they are good folks, and they have made me their king. This is our home now, they are our people, and in time, we will come to understand and love them."
She patted his hand, and swallowed hard.
"You are right, as usual. Forgive me. I know we have found a good place to live here, and who knows, in a couple of millennia I might take to their customs, learn how to use bow and arrow, and should we ever have twins, I shall call them 'Greenleaf' and 'Mushroom'."
He laughed and kissed her neck.
"I am most pleased to hear that. So I suppose you have no reservations about my having large pictures stitched in my skin and riding through the wood without a shirt on, as is a custom here..."
She elbowed him in the side and he yelped. This made Thranduil giggle in his furs.
"Do not dare, Oropher! I can live with the odd custom of carrying ornaments on the skin, but the only one to see you without a shirt is me, be it in Doriath or in Greenwood the Great!"
"Your wish is my order," he grinned. "I would not dare to risk letting the people here lose their king as fast as they found him."
Sloe, who was still within hearing distance of the couple, snorted.
"Sindar," he muttered, and rolled his eyes.
* * *
Oropher found that the Great Cave had been snowed in overnight. A snowstorm roared outside, and he was grateful that Sloe had arranged for more firewood the previous day. His plan to go out into the woods and find a Yule tree for his wife had been foiled. Sloe looked at him as if he had lost his mind when he brought up the matter.
"My king, you cannot leave the Great Cave! Not for at least three days, for that is how long this snowstorm is going to continue! We are lucky that all the guests arrived for the feast yesterday. You cannot go outside, it is too dangerous."
Oropher paced up and down, hands clasped behind his back.
"I am an Elf. I am impervious to cold and snowfall," he protested.
"There are wild beasts out in the wood. I would hate to see 'frozen king' on their menu."
Oropher was not willing to give in yet.
"But I promised the queen that she will have a Yule tree!"
Sloe shrugged his shoulders.
"If you insist on a heroic deed to impress your wife, I can arrange for someone to bring you a shovel. If you start digging today, you will be out in the wood by March."
Oropher stopped his pacing.
"You are a very sarcastic lot here, my dear Sloe. I fear for my son when the day comes that you will be his tutor."
"Do not fear, my king. Your son is a Sinda, after all. No matter what I try, the best he will be able to come up with is mild irony. And if you do not wish for me to fetch the shovel now, I would be grateful if we could go through your speech for tomorrow's feast."
* * *
"This surpasses all my expectations," the queen whispered in her husband's ear, and Oropher nodded. He had prepared for a small feast with the heads of the various clans in Greenwood, and now he sat right in the middle of a feast of such splendour that he felt rather intimidated. The roof of the large hall was covered with rock crystals, which reflected and broke the light of the torches into millions of rainbows. The tables bent under the load of food and drinks, and everywhere Elves were laughing, chatting, or dancing to the tunes of the minstrels. Some jaunty Elves were even dancing on the tables, a thing unheard of in Doriath!
"I am most pleased that you approve of the way we celebrate Yule," Sloe said, and bit in an apple. "I was already worried that our customs might not be... sophisticated enough for you."
"You hear the coughing of the bed bugs, now do you not?" the queen said tartly, not overly pleased Sloe had overheard her comments to Oropher.
Sloe, undisturbed in his meal, shrugged his shoulders.
"Sometimes."
Thranduil sat on his mother's lap, and just when the queen opened her mouth for a sharp rebuttal, he threw a spoon full of apple sauce in Sloe's direction. The sticky food landed right in the middle of the advisor's chest.
Sloe glared at the child, then reached out for a napkin to wipe off the sauce from his jerkin.
"Oh, my apologies - please do not be angry with my son," the queen purred. "We are only poor, uneducated folk from Doriath, and our ways will probably look rather unpolished to you."
Sloe gnashed his teeth.
"You do not look unpolished at all, my queen," he said. "On the contrary - I almost fear that you are too sophisticated to truly feel at home here."
The queen sat up straight.
"Too sophisticated? What do you mean by that?"
Oropher made signs to let Sloe know that arguing with the queen might be harmful to his health, but the advisor ignored him.
"I mean by that, my queen, that you are a wee bit too... uptight."
"Uptight?" she croaked, and Oropher sank deep into his seat. "Uptight?"
Sloe bowed his head.
"Uptight, my queen - with all due respect, of course."
"I show you how uptight I am, you smug little goblin!"
With that, she stood up and sat her son down in her chair, climbed on the table and began to dance. It was a wild dance, with lots of swinging hips, and more than once, a good part of her perfectly shaped legs became visible.
Both advisor and king stared at her open-mouthed, while the guests, after an initial moment of shock, broke out in loud cheers.
"By the forest spirits," Sloe gasped once he was able to build complete sentences again.
"Indeed - and she is all mine!" Oropher added happily. "Please excuse me, my duties are calling me."
With that, he joined his wife on the table.
Sloe turned to Thranduil.
"Look at this, Thranduil, and memorise it well. For many, many years to come, the Elves of Greenwood the Great will talk about the memorable Yule feast when your parents were dancing on the table in the Great Hall. And for even more years, you will be terribly, terribly embarrassed by that tale."
Thranduil giggled and, as Sloe wasn't paying attention, he pelted the advisor with another spoonful of apple sauce. Sloe stared at the smiling face of the Elfling, then he filled a spoon with pudding and returned the favour. Thranduil shrieked with delight when the dessert got stuck in his hair.
"I think this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship, young Thranduil," Sloe said.
And it was.