A/N: A little holiday fluff set in the world of Mr. Tolkien
The laughter startled him and he jolted, nearly spilling the cup of wine in his left hand. In confusion, brain clouded with exhaustion, Aragorn stared at the cup as if it had called him a rude name. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember why he was drinking. Harad was a dangerous place and he purposely avoided alcohol so he wouldn't be in a situation like this: sleepy, unaware of his surroundings, oblivious to whatever danger may be lurking. Trying to move inconspicuously, he reached across his body with his right hand to grab his sword while leaving his head down. With any luck, though that had been in short supply recently, he could get a hand on his sword before the others nearby – who were they? – noticed he was awake. Aragorn jolted again as his hand felt nothing but air. Where was his sword?
Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his racing heart. As he desperately tried to clear the cobwebs out of his head without moving and attracting unwanted attention, he heard more laughter and then fair voices. Fair voices? The people of Harad did not have fair voices. Nor did they speak Sindarin. Then, as he realized what he was hearing, he remembered where he was – home. He was safe in Imladris. A relieved sigh escaped his lips.
Aragorn slowly raised his head, hoping none of the Elves in the Hall of Fire had seen his earlier movements. Most were oblivious to him as they were watching the recitation of a tale, but as he moved his gaze slowly around the room, a pair of laughing blue eyes met his. Keeping a neutral expression on his face, he continued his look around but the next pair of eyes, green this time, also was laughing at him. He felt his own eyes narrow in response at the two blond Elves who wore knowing expressions. They had seen. Trying to ignore them, he continued his circuit of the room. No one else paid him any attention as he picked up his wine glass and drank; not deeply, though. He was tired enough as it was.
As he lowered the glass to the arm of his chair, he noticed Legolas and Glorfindel were now standing in front of him, wearing very, very similar self-satisfied grins. He started to stand but they were too close and didn't back up to allow him room. If anything, their grins only smirked more at his aborted movement. Biting back one of the colorful curses he had recently learned – the language of the Men of Harad was very inventive in its cursing – he craned his head back to look at the Elves.
The smirk slid off Legolas' face as he turned slightly towards the ancient warrior and mock sympathy replaced it. "Glorfindel, it seems that our wayward traveler is quite tired."
The sympathy on the other's face seemed more real, except for the glint of humor in his eyes. "It does. Poor Estel. That trip to Harad must have been exhausting."
"Of course, it was," Legolas replied smoothly covering any response Aragorn may have made. "But it was partly his fault."
Aragorn opened his mouth to argue, but again was forestalled by another's response.
"Tsk, tsk, Legolas. You are not being fair to poor Estel. How else would he have learned about the Men of Harad, their language and culture, unless he stayed for years?"
The younger Elf sighed deeply and cast a quick glance at the subject of the conversation before returning his attention to the Balrog-slayer.
"If I was his father, my feelings would be terribly hurt."
"Why?" the single word slipped out. Aragorn bit his lip immediately. He should have known better than to respond to the verbal teasing of Legolas. But he was exhausted, having only arrived that afternoon. His only wish had been to sleep, but Elrond would not hear of it. He insisted that Aragorn join the Yule celebration tonight.
Celebrating mid-winter was an old tradition in Imladris. All the buildings were decorated with greenery and berries, extra feasts were prepared, and the celebration in the Hall of Fire was known to last for days on end. It was a break from the monotony that winter forced on the Elves. A celebration of the life that slumbered under the snow and heralded its return after the months of winter.
Legolas turned to face the Man directly. The amusement still danced in his eyes, but his face was remarkably sincere, as was his voice. "You find out your history, head out the door and do not come back for over 20 years and when you finally do, you are promised to his daughter." He held up a hand, palm out, to forestall Aragorn's comment. "Then, you leave again. This time to Harad, land of heat, sun, dust and Valar only knows what other horrors. You are gone for several more years and finally arrive back today. Did you forget that it was winter here in the fair lands of Arda?" The Elf paused, but not long enough for Aragorn to reply, then shook his head and continued. "Your poor father."
"To top all of that, he refuses to come to the celebration tonight. Claims he is too tired." Glorfindel smiled evilly. "But Elrond would not take no for an answer. Even though, it looks like poor Estel has been sleeping when he should be enjoying the tales and songs."
"Why do you insist on calling me Estel? My name is Aragorn." The Man muttered under his breath, but the hearing of the Elves in front of him was excellent.
"Estel, my dear Estel," Glorfindel reached out and placed a hand on the Man's shoulder. "I will call you by whatever name I wish. It is the privilege of age."
Legolas snorted. "You take a great many privileges of age. More than actually exist."
Glorfindel slowly turned to face him, dropping his hand from Aragorn's shoulder to point at the other Elf. "Should I take them, then, as a balrog-slayer?"
Aragorn held his breath, waiting for Legolas' response. The two Elves enjoyed baiting enjoy other, but Legolas was known for pushing too much. It was not something bystanders enjoyed.
"Use whatever excuse you want, because we know that you will take the privileges, whether you deserve them or not."
The older Elf smiled at the response and dropped his hand back to his side. Aragon let his breath out with relief. Legolas had not crossed the line this time. "I cannot argue with that – even though I do deserve the privileges. However, that is a debate for another time. Back to this tired child. What should we do with him? It is a shame how he is ignoring the Yule celebration tonight."
"The celebration will continue tomorrow and beyond," Aragorn protested. "I have not been home in years and just want to sleep in my bed tonight. Why is that such an awful thing?"
"Truly you have a point, Aragorn," Legolas agreed smoothly. "Maybe he should go to bed before he falls off his chair, spills his wine and embarrasses himself. We do not want that." Aragorn could not help but to think that Legolas looked like the cat that had eaten the canary and gotten away with it.
Before Aragorn could reply, Glorfindel nodded. "Very true. I think we should help the poor boy out."
"Most definitely," agreed the Mirkwood Elf.
Horror lit the Man's gray eyes. He immediately knew what they met by "helping out" and it was not a good thing. "But, wait, stop," he spluttered.
"Oh, poor Estel," Glorfindel said in a tone that managed to be solicitous and condescending at once. "He is so tired he cannot even manage a complete sentence." As he spoke, he reached forward and firmly grabbed Aragorn's right arm.
Matching his movements, except for a quick pause to pluck the wine glass out of his hand, Legolas grabbed the left arm. They pulled him out of the chair, and began "helping" him forward.
"Do you think we should help him remember how to walk?" said the Elf on his right.
The reply was delayed as Legolas finished the wine in the glass. He nodded his head as he set the glass on a table they were passing. "Probably. Aragorn, it is left then right, then left again. Keep repeating. Can you do it?"
"Of course I can," he huffed while they kept his arms in a tight grip. Peripherally he was aware that all the other Elves in the room were watching, which he would have bet was part of the fun for the two dragging him out. He missed the slight frown on his adopted father's face watching the three walk out of the room.
Once outside of the Hall of Fire, the pace slowed down and the pincher grips on his arms loosened. However, he still was not allowed to walk under his own power and the grips were enough to keep him moving forward.
Fighting back his irritation, Aragorn looked at Legolas. The Elf noticed his regard and swiveled his head to face him, slowing down slightly as he did. Glorfindel, after two more steps, slowed down as well.
"Legolas, thank you for your concern but I can make it to my room under my own power."
The prince shook his head. "Aragorn, you fell asleep in the Hall of Fire. We cannot trust you not to do so in the hallway."
"It would be very inconvenient for those trying to walk," Glorfindel added.
Aragorn turned his head and glared at the older Elf, who merely laughed. "Alas, Estel. That look may work with Men and animals, but it is nothing to me."
The Man kept his eyes from rolling with an effort and he turned his attention back to the hallway. "Umm, are you planning on turning – at that hall back there – or did you forget where my room was since I have been gone for so long?"
The Elves jerked to a stop and Aragorn winced at the double yanks on his arms. Over his head, the Elves glared at each, wordlessly blaming the other for missing the hallway. After a long moment, Legolas motioned towards the hall with his head and Glorfindel nodded, nearly imperceptibly. Maintaining tight grips, they executed a quick about-face and then turned right down the hallway leading to the bedrooms.
Quickly, they arrived at Aragorn's room. Glorfindel reached out, opened the door and walked in first, still maintaining his grip. After the other two entered the room, the Elf shook his head. "Estel, you were a messy child, and I am sorry to see that has not changed."
The Man bristled slightly. "I get home this afternoon and no sooner than I walk into my room, Father demands I attend the celebration. Forgive me," he added in a very sarcastic tone, "for thinking that bathing was more important than unpacking when given no choice on my presence in the Hall of Fire."
Glorfindel appeared about to reply in kind but instead shook his head sadly. "If that is your excuse, I will allow you it… for now."
Legolas dropped his hold on Aragorn's arm and when Glorfindel followed suit, Aragorn took a deep breath of thanks.
"Sleep well, Estel. Clean your room in the morning." Glorfindel smiled and headed out the door. Legolas started to follow him and stopped just inside the room.
"Aragorn, I am very happy you are home, safely. I look forward to hearing about your experiences when you are well-rested."
"Thank you, Legolas. I am happier to be home than you are to have me. Harad was an interesting land, but it is great to be home for the holidays."
Legolas grinned. "Once you are awake enough to enjoy them, that is. Sleep well, and don't forget to clean your room tomorrow or Glorfindel will make you pay."
As the door shut on the sound of the Elf's laughter, Aragron smiled, pulled off his boots and collapsed into bed fully dressed. He was asleep in seconds.