Disclaimer: I own nothing

Author's note: Merry Christmas! I hope you like this silly little thing. It was a vague idea that suddenly took form as a rather ridiculous but still quite funny one-shot. Enjoy!

Misrepresented

There were several reasons why Aragorn and Arwen had decided to take the long, somewhat perilous trip to Rivendell for an occasion no less dire than Christmas. First and most importantly, lord Elrond would be departing to the Undying Lands soon, and afterwards, his fate would be sundered from that his daughter and son-in-law. The king and queen of Gondor wanted to spend every moment they could with their beloved Elrond before he sailed, and Christmas was the best time to do so.

In addition to this purpose, Aragorn also desired to get himself and his wife away from the stresses of the kingship for a while, and Rivendell was definitely the best cure for strain and worry within the Circles of the World. Besides, Legolas would also be here, and Aragorn had not seen him for months.

So it was that when Elessar and his lady arrived in Rivendell, they wasted no time with formalities or even rest. Instead they went immediately to seek out the lord of the Last Homely House. While they hurried through the halls, they were glad to run into the Prince of Mirkwood, who greeted them with an eager smile.

"Ah, here you are!" Legolas exclaimed. "Lord Elrond sent me to meet you. He's fiddling with the television at the moment: apparently there's a Christmas special on in about ten minutes, and he wants to watch it."

"The television?" Aragorn laughed. "I thought he would never get into that sort of thing."

"I doubt he will," Arwen chuckled. "If he doesn't destroy it while trying to make it work, at the least he'll give up without results. Why don't you turn it on, Legolas?"

"He won't let me touch it," answered the elf. "But you never know: his lordship may have little experience operating technology, but while there's life, there's hope."

"Oh, don't act so naive," Arwen said, rolling her eyes. "Or do they not tell the tale of the 'Telephone Incident of 1135' in Mirkwood?"

Legolas' eyes widened in shock, and he shook his head slowly. Arwen simply sighed and mumbled something like "I wonder how he silenced the witnesses", but she said nothing loud enough for all to clearly hear.

"So," Aragorn said after a moment of awkward silence, "why don't you take us to him, Legolas?"

The prince nodded gladly and began to lead Aragorn and Arwen down the halls of Rivendell. The walk only lasted a few minutes, and soon they had arrived in a dark, windowless room where Elrond was bent over a small television set. The Lord of Imladris gave the machine a good smack and then stood from his work with a frighteningly huge grin.

"I knew I could get this blasted thing working," he said proudly. Arwen, who had lived with a technologically-impaired father all her life, could not stop her jaw from dropping in astonishment. Aragorn and Legolas just laughed.

"Thanks for letting us visit," Aragorn said, embracing his foster father. "I'm impressed that you've decided to give television a try."

Elrond beamed. "I knew I could do it if I put my mind to it."

Arwen soon recovered from her astonishment and fell back into the holiday spirit, hugging her father tightly and kissing his cheek.

"I've missed you," she said.

"As have I," Elrond replied. "And now we're together to watch Rivendell's first film, with Legolas to join the party."

The small group made themselves comfortable on several couches as the show started. Plates with food were passed around, and as they snacked and the pre-picture credits for a movie called Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer filled the screen, Elrond turned to his son-in-law with an inquiry.

"Do you have a television?" he asked, expecting a negative answer since he considered this technology new. Indeed it was fairly novel, but the elf forgot to account for the fact that Gondor was slightly more advanced than most elven realms.

"Well, yeah, you know we have two of 'em," Aragorn replied absentmindedly.

"Wow!" Legolas exclaimed in awe. Maybe Gondor was more than just slightly ahead. "You must be rich!"

"Oh, Legolas, he's teasing you," Elrond scolded the gullible prince. "Nobody has two televisions sets." Aragorn was confused for only a second, but he quickly decided to shrug off the encounter and focus his attention on the movie that was playing.

None of the people present had ever seen Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer before, not even the royal couple. Aragorn never had the time to flip through channels, Arwen was not too big into watching TV, and Legolas only tuned into Saturday morning cartoons. Thus it was that all four were completely unprepared for the horrors contained in the supposedly "family-friendly" Christmas special.

The first terrible onslaught of racism and lies came early in the show. The mutant reindeer had hardly been introduced when the scene changed to focus on a bunch of hobbits, one in particular who had some sort of social problem. But the individual was of no consequence to the shocked audience. What concerned them was the fact that the stupid, enslaved hobbits were supposed to represent elves.

"What in the Halls of Mandos?" roared Elrond in anger. "What does this mean?"

The other three didn't have the heart to answer, and indeed they had no response. They could not understand what kind of fierce hatred of the Eldar would cause Santa and his minions to create such an insult. It was unfathomable.

A gross, completely inaccurate generalization was quickly put forth as the scene developed. "Now listen here: you're an elf, and elves make toys!" one grotesquely ugly thing yelled. It became obvious that this person was supposed to be a leader of sorts.

As the scene continued, Aragorn, Arwen, Elrond, and Legolas grew increasingly troubled and furious. The narrator, a killer snowman, declared nonchalantly after a heated argument that "such is the life of an elf". He went on to talk about what he called "lessons and elf-improvement", which was soon defined through a long, horrible sequence that made the audience's blood boil.

Acting like utter buffoons, the hobbits rejoiced in their slavery by singing a praise song to their dictator. "We are Santa's elves, building Santa's shelves…we work hard all day, but all our work is play…we've a special job each year (we don't like to brag): Christmas Eve we always fill Santa's bag!"

During the whole affair, the hobbits displayed every level of incompetence and childishness as they sang, falling onto the floor, dropping all their tools, and running into each other. They even turned on one of their own and threw him into a sack.

"They would mock even the Kinslayings?" Elrond breathed quietly, revealing his state of shock.

"Why weren't you at elf practice?!" the fat, intended-to-mock-the-elven-race boss screamed to his employee.

The hobbit gave a lame excuse about wanting to be a dentist, but his words were drowned out by a loud eruption of yelling from Lord Elrond.

"BECAUSE THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS ELF PRACITCE, YOU VILE SPAWN OF MORGOTH!"

It was at this point that Aragorn feared for the safety of the TV.

"Now," the lead hobbit continued, "you come to elf practice and learn how to wiggle your ears and chuckle warmly and go 'hee hee' and 'ho ho' and important stuff like that."

The terribly insulting line was cut off by a battle cry of immense volume and anguish. Everyone looked at Elrond in time to see him jump from his chair, whip out a pistol from his tunic, and fire repeatedly at the TV screen. The image of the racist hobbits was splintered into tiny pieces of glass, but Elrond didn't stop there. He pressed the trigger of his gun until it was out of ammunition, and then he stalked across the room to where the now ruined television sat smoking on its stand. He ripped another clip from his belt and shoved it into his pistol, unloading all of the bullets into the TV from a range of one foot. When he was truly out of ammo, he resorted to a more brute form of unleashing his just wrath. Grabbing the nearest chair, he smashed it onto the television with all his might. He then took the chair's broken leg and beat the pile of rubble until his arms grew tired. Then he dug into his pocket, found a lighter, lit it, and dropped it onto the stack of TV parts and broken wood. He panted as he watched the fire consume what was supposed to be a source of entertainment, feeling a tiny bit better.

"Lord Elrond," Legolas ventured after a few minutes of the fire burning, "are you alright?"

Elrond tore his eyes from the smoldering ashes and looked at his now genuinely worried companions. They all had expressions of horror and fear on their faces, and Aragorn had even taken a protective step between Elrond and Arwen. Perhaps the fire had been a little bit over the top.

"They would defame the elves," Elrond muttered in both sorrow and anger. "What right have they to dare defame us in such a fashion?"

"But father," Arwen said quietly, "it was only a movie. Maybe the racism was unintentional—"

"My dearest daughter!" Elrond yelled, staring at Arwen with tear-filled eyes. "I have watched a gleaming host containing thousands of valiant elves march to Mordor to keep the evil of Sauron at bay! Many hundreds of them fell in battle, including the last High King of the Noldor, Gil-galad. Do not tell me this horrific insult was 'only a movie'!"

With that, his head snapped in the direction of the door, and he suddenly sprinted towards it. He threw it open and ran down the hall, heedless of the voices calling behind him. He did not stop until he had burst through the gate of Rivendell and made it to the small path leading out of the valley. There he skidded to a halt, and looking up into the sky, he closed his eyes and started calling out as loudly as he could.

"Oh, great eagles of Manwë! Friends of my father! Please, come to me in the hour of my need and aid me for my father's sake!"

In two seconds flat, Gwaihir the eagle swooped down and landed right beside Elrond. With the shouts of others coming from inside the Homely House, Elrond wasted no time in climbing onto the eagle's back.

"Gwaihir, I am in great need of your services. Please fly to the North Pole with all speed."

"The North Pole?" Gwaihir asked incredulously. "Are you serious, Elrond?"

"I'll explain on the way. Just hurry."

The eagle took the elven lord's word for it and flew off just before Aragorn and Legolas arrived. They yelled and waved, but Elrond bid the great bird to continue without listening to their lies about his insane attack on a defenseless TV. When they were high above the clouds, Elrond began to tell Gwaihir of the evils and racism contained in Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer, sparing no detail or insult. Gwaihir was, of course, horror-stricken by the terrible content of the film, and he agreed to take Elrond to the North Pole to settle the dispute.

"What are you planning to do when you arrive?" Gwaihir asked cautiously.

"I am going to make Mr. Santa Claus regret every stupid line of that propaganda garbage," Elrond said through clenched teeth.

"Elrond," Gwaihir snapped, "you can't just go around murdering people!"

"No, no, no!" Elrond dismissed the notion. "I must have a sense of honor in all of this! After all, I am representing the true elves here."

"Then what do you propose?"

Elrond smirked in a way that would worry someone who had no idea who he was or what he had already done that day. "You'll learn soon enough."

Surprisingly, it did not take the pair very long to reach the North Pole. As they grew nearer to Santa's workshop, Elrond leaned over the eagle's shoulder to look at the land below. The landscape was barren and cold, snow was falling, and slaves were working wearily to provide things for their master to sell. Elrond had always heard about the terrible communism reigning over Santa's realm, but he'd thought it was only a myth. This must be how and why Santa had made the propaganda movie in the first place: to paint a false picture of elves so that the oppressed people of this realm would never take after the Eldar and fight injustice.

Soon the luxurious mansion where Santa lived loomed ahead, and Gwaihir landed just outside it, adding another brief bit of counsel against violence. Elrond nodded absentmindedly and trudged through the snow, going up to the doors and entering the mansion. He did not knock.

"I demand to speak to Santa!" Elrond screamed rather unceremoniously.

The enslaved hobbits who were busy about tasks throughout the vast halls of Santa's dwelling place immediately dropped what they were doing and stared up at the intruder with fear and surprise. One that appeared to be a leader came forwards and began stuttering about something, but Elrond pinned him down with a Death Glare, and that shut him up.

"I demand to speak to Santa," Elrond said again, though this time with less volume and more threat in his voice. The hobbit rubbed its fingers together, as if deciding something, and then dashed off down the hall.

In almost no time, the ground began to tremble slightly as the sound of massive footsteps echoed through the building. Soon the source of the disruption became visible, and Elrond was actually astounded. The man was morbidly obese, with sharp, cruel eyes and a ragged beard. He was short for a man, but his presence still had a sense of command. This was Santa Claus.

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.

Elrond shook himself and remembered his purpose. "I am an elf," he declared. Santa's eyes narrowed, but Elrond continued. "I demand satisfaction!" he shouted quickly, taking a threatening step towards the racist. "How dare you create such a pack of lies as Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer? How dare you? I would rather be in Sauron's company than stand within a mile of someone as wicked as you!"

Santa did not appear intimidated. For a moment, all was silent. Then, at last, Santa stepped quite close to Elrond and sneered.

"So what is your business here, elf? What's your hope in all of this? Let me guess: I get killed."

"Kill you?" Elrond questioned, grimacing at Santa's foolishness. "No, don't be obvious. I mean, I'm going to kill you anyway someday. I don't want to rush it, though. I'm saving it up for something special. No, no, no; if you don't publically recant your poisonous lies and give due compensation to all members of the Firstborn race who still dwell in Middle Earth, I'll burn you. I'll burn the heart out of you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Santa asked, displaying his lack of appreciation for cool lines.

"It means I am going to sue you!" Elrond finally revealed. "I am going to sue you, I'm going to expose your inhumane treatment of your subjects to the UN, which will, by the way, probably launch a full-scale investigation of you 'business', and I'm going to show your propaganda hogwash to all the elves who supply you. Let's see how jolly and cheerful Santa Claus will be then!"

Santa was not very happy about this news. "That's ridiculous," he said, but catching a look of absolute sincerity in Elrond's eyes, he decided to take another path. "I'm sure we can find a way to forget the whole Rudolph incident…" He dug into his deep pockets and pulled out a wad of crumpled bills. "Here. I'm sure this will cover your being slightly misrepresented in that old little film."

"Misrepresented?" Elrond breathed in anger. "Slandered, reviled, or profaned would have all been acceptable words. Misrepresented? What do you take me for? I am a real elf, not one of the clowns from your imagination!"

Elrond snatched one of the bills and examined it carefully. "Counterfeit," he deduced, throwing it back into Santa's face. "The UN will love this. And even if it was real, I would never touch your filthy money. You better hold on to your suspenders, Santa: there's about to be some changes around here."

With that, Elrond, feeling very triumphant, spun proudly on his heels and began walking out. He was stopped only by a desperate screech from behind.

"Why did you even come here?" Santa screamed. "To warn me? How noble."

"Yes," Elrond said, smirking. "I always issue a challenge with due honor. I am an elf, after all."

Bet you didn't see that coming, did you? Well, please let me know what you think via a review. I love reviews! *tune begins to play* All I want for Christmas is a lot of reviews! *tune stops as record player is broken* And did anyone notice the rather obvious (to me, at least) quotes from movies and TV shows in there aside from the Rudolph excerpts? There were two really big ones, and if you recognized them, say so in your review! I hope you guys have a very merry Christmas and a happy New Year as well!