Disclaimers: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit and The Silmarillion. J.R.R. Tolkien does.
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Frodo rested in a rocking chair, caressing one of his favorite tales for the season. He just didn't expect the turnout from Sam's children.
"Tell us a story, Mr. Frodo," Elanor declared, jumping into his lap.
"All right," Frodo said, smiling a sweet, merry smile. "Here's a tale you ought to hear: the Story of the Snowman and the Wooden Stag.
"Once, long, long ago, there were two creatures who loved the snow. Mr. Snowman had quite the busy schedule ahead of him. He was due to arrive in the Shire at any moment to deliver Yuletide presents, which were nothing more than snowflakes and fallen reindeer twigs. Then there was the Wooden Stag, who believed in hope that Eru Ilúvatar would make him whole again. He wanted nothing more and nothing less than to be the best wooden stag he could be.
"One winter's night, a star came down from the heavens, to greet the Wooden Stag and the Snowman. For it was on that night that Earendil believed anything was possible. So, he turned the Wooden Stag into a real White Stag, but it could only last until the end of the Yuletide Caroling and Feasting. For the Snowman, Eru Ilúvatar watched with an open heart. He made him real too.
"And, as it happens, Mr. Snowman and the White Stag, once the Wooden Stag, met by collision. The White Stag was horrified. Mr. Snowman was torn into bits and pieces. Oh, what could be done now. Eru Ilúvatar stepped in and made Mr. Snowman whole. But their job wasn't finished. Eru Ilúvatar gave them permission to come to Bag End for the feast. Well, Bilbo didn't appreciate that at the time, for his adventure hadn't set out yet. And he already had dwarves and Gandalf over for tea. But when Bilbo saw the two figures, he said with great joy, 'What is the meaning of this? A… a white stag? That's…'
"'That stag would make good eating,' said Thorin Oakenshield, brandishing his crossbow.
"'No, Thorin, you'll…' but it was too late. Not even Bilbo's cries could stop what happened next. For it was on this eve that the White Stag returned to his wooden form, become inanimate once more. Mr. Snowman was sad. Oh, who could stop this now, if only to see the Wooden Stag become the White Stag once more.
"Eru Ilúvatar saw this and, all at once, transformed the Wooden Stag back into a White Stag. The White Stag was free to wander wherever he chose. He chose the Greenwood Forest, where he would dwell for a time. But every so often the White Stag would return, bowing to whoever owned Bag End. For Eru Ilúvatar would often find himself accompanying the White Stag, bringing Mr. Snowman back once on a Yule's day and evening. For it is said that the White Stag gives luck and grants wishes to those who pass by. For without wishes, what are we?" He chuckled, closing the book at long last. "The End."
Frodo smiled, telling Elanor, "That was a good story, wasn't it?"
"Mr. Frodo, just what became of the White Stag and Mr. Snowman?" Elanor asked. "I think I…" Frodo looked up. Was that the sound of hooves? "Could it?"
"Let's go and see," Frodo said, peering into the parlor window. No way. There it was! A white stag and a snowman, bowing to him and little Elanor. He waved absentmindedly, surprised to see Sam and Rosie looking out the window with little Frodo-lad. "Happy Yule."
"Indeed," Sam said. "Happy Yuletide Evening."
Frodo chuckled, glancing over at Sam as if hoping his joy would overwhelm his gardener and best friend… if only for a moment. Frodo was such a lucky hobbit, and he deserved it. Every last bit of joy he could find, he would take it. And he wouldn't settle for less.
The End.
Merry Christmas!
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Thanks for reading. :)