It's time again for ModernDayBard and I's annual Christmas collaboration! We hope that you enjoy our ten days of one-shots leading up to Christmas Eve. Blessings- Endurance

Hello, everybody; ModernDayBard here! As 2018 was the 'Year of Lord of the Rings', for me, I suppose it's only fitting that the Christmas collab finds its home in Middle Earth. It'll be a little different from our normal format, but hopefully you all still enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Neither of us owns any of the characters, settings, lore, or cannon events.

What could be offered—what could be accepted—to compel someone to leave incorporeal, timeless paradise, take on a mortal form and walk amongst the free (but often foolish) peoples of Middle Earth for a lifetime of lifetimes? To leave so much of their power and eventually knowledge to attempt to guide those who so often spat in their faces and did the opposite out of spite? To be belittled at times by those he was so far beyond, and by those he was supposed to walk beside?

Yes, there were lonely centuries, and tragic ones as great realms and kings fell to ruin and what remained of their peoples scrambled for survival among scraps and fallen stones. But while many would turn from the world of men, isolate themselves to spare themselves further pain, he did not. He remembered his task always, though many things he once knew were forgotten.

But more than that, and despite both knowing and remembering how death always took those dear to him, eventually, he did not shy away from those he would call 'friends'—even those others of the wise would dismiss, such as his beloved hobbits. Simple folk, though they were, yet Bilbo, Frodo, and their young companions stood as testaments to what such an oft-overlooked people were capable of. He loved them as much for their simplicity and innocence as for the courage and remarkable feats they could be pressed to show.

The dwarves were stubborn, too, and hard to dissuade from any path, even one that led to their ruin, but a stauncher friend, once won, you could hardly ask for. And to trace their history, to see how far they had fallen as a people and now, to see them reclaim old homes, rediscover old skills, and renew old alliances could only stand as testament to the sometime-rewards of stubbornness, and its better side.

In elves alone could he find friends who would not fall to the Doom of Man, though now many were sailing and leaving him behind in other ways. With them, he could speak openly and honestly, take council deep and true, and speak of things old and ancient in the same breath of those now and new.

And men… so weakened, so lessened from their time of power and prosperity, so often beguiled, led astray, or simply festering away within with no outside force leading them astray. But strength and greatness, nobility, and even simple goodness and contentment could still be found in their hearts, as well. Yes, men were capable of extremes to either end, so neither could be forgotten, but they were not as far gone as so many of the wise despairingly believed, even in this far-fallen state.

Yes, he had found much to love about the peoples he guided and protected, as his tale unfolded over the wary years. But now, it seemed, it had come to an end: the last great push to defeat Sauron had been started, not by an army, but by a Fellowship. He'd guided them as well and long as he could, and stayed to fight what they could not so that the Ring-Bearer and his companions may escape the mines of Moria alive.

And he had felled the Balrog, in the end, though it cost him the last of his life and power to do so. Now his task passed to the Fellowship that remained: see Frodo to Mordor, or as close as they can, and cast the Ring of Power into the flames, unmake it and banish its maker. He could do no more.

Or so he thought…

What could compel anyone to give up timeless paradise once is unthinkable, but to do it twice, knowing the second time, what difficulty, pain, and sorrow, lay yet ahead, with only the faintest sliver of hope for triumph?

How great a love, how great a gift: himself.

And that, he freely gave.

So, yeah. When Endurance and I were brainstorming this series, we figured it would be a little less-than-Christmas-y, especially compared to other collabs we've done. Yet writing that first paragraph alone was very much an 'oh, never mind, this still hits thematically right on to Christmas' sort of moment for me.

Future chapters will be more story-form, I just find Gandalf hard to right for, and this character/prompt combination just seemed to call for this more overview/musing approach.

Hopefully, you enjoyed it, and look for Endurance's next chapter tomorrow!

While these aren't song-fics, we did want to keep up the tradition of song recommendations at the end of each chapter, so:

Song: Christmas Makes Me Cry

Artist: Mandisa ft. Matthew West