Greetings and blessings of the season!
A strange tale awaits you, as you will soon discover, but before we get started, a couple of things:
In Sweden, we celebrate advent, the time stretching from the fourth Sunday before Christmas to Christmas Eve (which is more important here, than Christmas Day). On every one of these Sundays, people light a candle and in the end, we have four candles burning. I now offer you to join in this small celebration with me, but instead of a candle, every Sunday leading up to Christmas, we'll have another part of the story.
This tale is a result of some messaging between me and one of the most inspiring people I've come across in a very long time. It is meant to include a library, a salad, a cookie, a chocolate fudge sundae, a closet, a wash cloth, friction, a certain human and a certain elf, and last but not least, a banana! I also seem to remember something about someone opening a door, and then two others opening another door… and some surprised looks too.
So, Jellybean, do enjoy this, will you! (Or I'll… make sure you get no closet-friction for Christmas!)
-ooo-
Dear reader,
This is a publication made by Imladris Library. It was never meant to be brought into being in the first place and, due to the extensive amount of inexplicable silliness within this document, the publisher immediately wishes to express its sincerest apologies for its existence.
The publisher accepts no legal responsibility for the contents within these pages, and heartily urges any unfortunate reader to leave before it is too late.
Should the reader, against better knowledge, delve into this text, he or she should be aware of several matters of concern: The contents of this document carry no deeper meaning and appear to be wholly without connection to reality ('AU'). What is more, it seems like the text includes references to what appears to be an all-male relationship ('slash'). The Imladris Library also suspects that certain characters could be considered 'OOC', but since no one has cared to look into this, the publisher takes no responsibility for this either.
For these reasons, and undoubtedly other ones not considered or mentioned, the publisher perceives no grounds for so called 'flaming'. Rest assured, dear reader, we are already all too aware of the excessive ridiculousness and absurdity within these pages.
Once more, we beg for your forgiveness and wish you a good day!
If you would like to contact the publisher, please write to: Imladris, c.t. 'Rivendell', hidden valley, Imladris, c.t. 'Rivendell', West of Misty Mountains, East of Ford of Bruinen, Middle-earth. However, the eager letter-writer should know that we open no letters post this publication. For at least fifty (50) years.
-ooo-
The Christmas Closet
Imladris, III 2944, Hrívë 1
Part One, in which 'beautiful' is used in excess and the pumpkin seeds are slimy.
This is a tale for winter. When the mornings are dark and dreary, and night falls swiftly. This is a tale to be read and heard while the ground is sleeping and the trees are huddling close together in the woods. Yes, they huddle. You might not see it, but I promise you, it is so. Winter is when the swirling snowflakes play hide and seek all around you, sometimes pulling you along with them and wanting to hide underneath your carefully arranged scarves. Do you angrily chase them away? Ask them nicely instead, and they just might listen.
For the world is still enchanted, even though some people might tell you otherwise. One would do wise to close one's mind to such ideas, for what would life be if it were not occasionally sprinkled with a rain of glittering, magic sparks. And what is it that says they do not come from a wizard's staff? Even if you cannot see him?
Here now, is the first part of this tale. May it bring you joy and may the season bring you hope and peace.
-ooo-
Estel had been minding his own business. He really had! He had been completing all his chores (which had taken him a good deal of time since pumpkin seeds were quite slimy and difficult to separate from the rest of the pumpkin… slime), he had gone through all of the documents ada had recommended and he had even made his bed (which was almost unnecessary since it was late afternoon). With all this done, he had a hard time imagining that he was not allowed even a small peek.
Just a small one, such a quick peek that no one would ever know! He would sneak inside, hide behind a high bookshelf and cast an innocent glance around the corner. Because innocent it would be.
If he could only figure out which bookshelf to choose…
Well, not that this promised innocence was dependent on the shelf (or the books in it) but you know… he had to choose wisely. He wanted a good view after all. Especially if he was allowed only one peek.
Oh, this was most exciting!
Small snowflakes were falling outside and the afternoon was growing gloomier and duskier. Preparations were in full swing wherever he went, but Estel had a hard time enjoying the garlands of evergreen and the small twinkling lights hung among the branches of the trees. Sharp spices tickled his senses in the kitchens and pearly, snow-like mounds of rice rose high on the workbenches, but that failed to capture his attention. Not even the intriguing deliveries come from every part of Middle-earth managed to interest him the slightest.
Save for one.
Estel made his way down the corridors. Singing and laughter slipped around the corners and encircled him. Ada had for once agreed to let his work rest and was now in the Great Hall presiding over the decorating. Elladan and Elrohir were probably there as well, teasing Glorfindel or eating all of the pumpkin seeds Estel had so meticulously roasted earlier, or both. Strange as it was though, Estel did not care much. His brothers were welcome to all the seeds they could find, as long as they stayed away from the library.
Outside the heavy door, Estel came to a stop. The dark wood was polished, but the storm of glittering decorations had not reached it yet. It still looked pretty much the same. And it was pretty much the same, except now it hid what Estel had come to look at.
A tingling sped through his body and he suddenly wished he had taken the time to pass by his room to make sure his hair was not the mess it usually was, and that his tunic was neat enough. But then, he was not supposed to be seen, he reminded himself.
He refused to acknowledge that his hand shook a little as he placed it on the doorknob and carefully slid the door open. Soundlessly it swung on its hinges and revealed a warmly lit room, filled to the brim with books. There were books on shelves, books in piles on tables, even books that had found a comfortable corner on the floor to rest upon, something that obviously was not Lord Elrond's idea. The room was shaped like an L, so it was impossible for Estel to see the rest of it – where the windows were, and the great desk, and maybe – if he was lucky – where the object of his admiration was. There would be two wood-fires burning in the library, but he only saw one at present. The other one faced the desk, and that was where Estel was headed.
Silently, and quite proud of it, he slipped across the floor and wound his way between the books, towards the furthest part of the room. His heart skipped a beat as he heard the distinctive sound of parchment being overturned, or possibly laid aside, but that made no difference to his quest.
With his breath caught in his throat, he nestled closer to the bookshelves and stayed in the shadows. Only a few feet left now…
Yes, by the sounds of it, there was definitely someone in here! And so very soon Estel would lay eyes upon him.
The last shelf loomed before him like a huge mountain. A friendly mountain, though, that would conceal him, but also let him glimpse the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
Estel scrambled over and pressed himself close to the wooden structure. This one was, too, laden with books and parchment so it hid him effectively. He forced himself to calm down. It would not do to announce his presence by panting heavily – or fainting and tumbling to the floor from lack of oxygen. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes. Then slowly he opened them and peered out from around the shelf.
There he was.
Blinking, Estel felt all resolve and determination seep out of him. He could only stare.
He took no notice of the bluish dusk sinking over the wintry valley outside, nor did he notice the crackling wood, being devoured by the flames in the fire-place. All he had eyes for was the blond elven prince, curled up in a chair behind the desk, pouring over a piece of parchment.
He was so beautiful!
Legolas Thranduilion had arrived three days ago, escorted by a host of Mirkwood's finest soldiers. Dazed, Estel had watched the brilliant prince enter the Hall and he had vaguely heard ada say that he had come to celebrate the winter season with them. King Thranduil himself would arrive in two weeks, not able to stay away from his kingdom for as long as his youngest son could.
Naturally, Elrond had spoken a lot more, but Estel registered only the important things, such as the extraordinary blondness of the prince's hair, his blue eyes and the fact that he was named 'Legolas', which Estel soon decided was the most beautiful name in Arda. Yes, he found it very difficult not to use the word 'beautiful' too often when he thought of Legolas.
Long minutes passed, during which Legolas turned over yet another parchment and Estel stared. What the prince found so interesting in the scripts, Estel had no idea of, but as long as he was able to watch, he was content. He had not said a word to Legolas of course. He had imagined many discussions they might have, long-winding talks about whatever Legolas might wish to speak of, but he had not said one word to him in person. He had not even considered that a time might come when he was no longer content only watching. For now, he was so overwhelmed by this newest addition to the inhabitants of Imladris that his thoughts went no further.
It would seem now to anyone that all was well, and everything would stay the same, as the small human was at peace with his situation. But as we all know, things cannot simply stand still. Anor rises and descends, and the stars in the heavens are constantly turning. The Valar themselves might be eternal and never-changing, but that does not mean that they do not wish to see us grow, and so it was also this time.
Estel had been watching for what seemed like an eternity transformed into a single second, and he had no plans on leaving. He would not have left for the world. But when something happened that freed him from his unmoving stance, he nearly shattered into nothingness. A soft voice called out to him.
"Estel?"
Oh, gods, gods, gods! That was Legolas! Oh, gods, what was he supposed to do now?!
Estel did the only thing he could think of. He withdrew his head and with a pounding heart pressed himself flat against the bookshelf.
"Estel, you had better come forth. I know you are there."
Legolas was angry with him. Of course he was. Oh, what had he done? He had been caught staring at a prince of Mirkwood, completely without a reason. Well, personally Estel had a good reason, but he was sure Legolas would not agree with him, if he told him. Which he would never do! The dust from the books filled his nose, but he endured it, albeit miserably.
"Come now, there is no point in hiding. I heard you before I saw you, and that was a while ago."
Involuntarily, he admired the prince's perceptiveness. He had not even looked in Estel's direction. Sadly, this only made matters worse.
"I could drag you forth…"
Wretched, Estel pondered this. He had no option. He could try to make a run for it but then he would be too embarrassed to be in the same room as Legolas ever again, and that did not seem all too appealing. Or, he could step forward, reveal himself and live through a scolding. Swallowing hard, he crept out from behind the shelf, only to meet the blue gaze of Legolas who was still sitting calmly in his chair, his head tilted to one side.
"There you are," he said contentedly.
He did not look very angry. In fact, he did not look angry at all. But then, elves were tremendously good at hiding their emotions so he might be raging inside as far as Estel knew.
"Why do you not come and sit with me instead of hiding behind that shelf?"
This was somewhat confusing, to be perfectly honest. If Legolas meant to reprimand him, why did he not just do so?
"I…" he began, not really having a clear idea on how to continue.
Legolas was looking at him expectantly.
"…am sorry," he concluded.
"For spying on me?" There was a hint of a smile in the prince's voice.
"I did not mean to spy," Estel said quietly, "I just got… stuck, watching."
Oh, that sounded deep and wise! Feeling the beginnings of a burning blush in his cheeks, he had a strong urge to leave Imladris on the spot and never come back.
"I am that interesting?"
Legolas genuinely appeared surprised. His cerulean eyes had widened a bit and he looked at Estel with a puzzled expression on his beautiful face. (Despite the circumstances, the human still found him incredibly beautiful.)
"Yes," Estel slowly admitted, but when he saw that this did not convince the elf, he hurried to explain. "You are very beautiful. And that is why I watched you." That last was said just as the blush captured his ears as well. But he stood his ground.
"You think I am beautiful?" asked Legolas, not appearing to understand at all.
This, Estel could not have. He had already made a fool of himself, so he might just as well go all the way.
"Very much so. You are the most beautiful elf I have ever seen, and I have lived in Imladris for almost all my life." He spoke very quickly, stumbling over a few words, but desperately wanting to make his intent clear. "Ever since I saw you – and I know that is only three days ago, but still – I have been thinking of nothing but you. Even when I was supposed to concentrate on the pumpkin seeds, which were really slimy by the way, I found I could only see your face in front of my eyes. I expect it was that which made me drop so many seeds on the floor," he added thoughtfully. "Anyway, it is the truth, and if you want to scold me for watching you here, you might just as well know the truth."
It was only then that he remembered his solemn promise about not letting Legolas in on the reason for his presence in the library, but now it was too late.
The prince seemed a little taken aback, and if Estel looked closely enough, he thought he could spot some more colour in his cheeks as well.
"Oh," said Legolas.
"Yes," Estel confirmed.
Then they went silent.
After some fidgeting, carried out by both human and elf, Legolas finally spoke up.
"Will you not come and sit with me?" His voice was almost shy, and he did not look directly into Estel's eyes.
Too nervous to speak, he nodded and pulled up a chair and sat down beside the prince who became more and more beautiful as the minutes passed.
"Are you hungry?"
"Not really," Estel managed, thinking he could not possibly eat sitting so close to Legolas. Certainly he would spill, or he would forget to swallow, and then his mouth would be over-full and he would spill anyway.
"I only wondered because I had lunch in here and there is some left," said Legolas. Then he quickly added, "I was very mindful of the scrolls, and I do not suggest that you should eat my leftovers. I just thought that as it is nearing suppertime, you might be hungry."
Estel nodded (again, and painfully aware of it). It was nearing suppertime, and if he concentrated he could feel a surge of hunger shooting through his empty stomach.
"What is it?" he dared to ask.
The question seemed to relax Legolas a little as they now had struck a path in an otherwise stumbling conversation. "A salad," he said and produced a lidded bowl from underneath a heap of parchment.
"Salad?" Estel wrinkled his nose. "Do you like that?"
A positively beau-ti-ful grin spread on Legolas' lips.
"Yes, but I take it you do not?"
Estel carefully lifted the lid and laid it aside. He peered into the bowl and picked up a slice of carrot, carefully avoiding brushing it against the chopped squash he saw. Upon popping the carrot into his mouth, he chewed carefully, making sure he did not spill. Legolas was watching him with an amused expression.
"That is all you will eat?"
After swallowing, Estel answered by choosing another slice of carrot from the bowl and consuming it equally cautiously. "I do not like squash," he added when finished.
Legolas promptly fished out a piece of squash and bit into it, his eyes dancing with silent laughter.
Decisively, Estel reached for the bowl and found another carrot slice which he lifted out deliberately slowly and took his time devouring.
A second piece of squash found its way to Legolas' lips where it hovered for a while before it entered his mouth. Estel found that he was staring again. But this time, his eyes were glued to the lips of the elven prince. He had only one word for them:
'beautiful'.
His mind was at war with itself. A part of him could not tell at all what was happening but desperately wanted to find out, and another part thought it best to put an end to it. That part won.
Something in him – probably the conquering part of his mind – made him reach out for the bowl, pick out a piece of squash and throw it at Legolas.
Who looked startled for a second or two, until he grabbed the bowl and fished out something that looked like a leaf of green salad (however that was possible in mid-winter) and hauled it towards Estel who was such a short distance away that it landed on his chest with a satisfied 'flop'.
The part of Estel's mind that considered it wise that the human stayed away from any type of lips, cheered and rejoiced. And did not mind the least that Estel countered the attack by throwing a handful of sunflower seeds at Legolas.
The prince was laughing openly now and that coaxed the bubbling laughter built up within Estel to escape him too. Pretty soon, both of them were sprinkled with the rather sad looking remnants of Legolas' lunch.
But no victory lasts forever, as Estel's mind soon found out.
Legolas, who sat up straight in his chair by now, leaned in closer to grab whatever weapon he could find. His cheeks were flushed and his blond hair in disarray. His green tunic was splotched and the smile on his face was bright.
Estel saw him closing the distance and he blinked. He knew Legolas was only after the carrot slice that lay close to Estel's arm, but suddenly he leaned in too.
Legolas' hand never reached its intended destination.
Panicking and staring, Estel pressed his lips to the ones before him. He had no plan, no design, and he had absolutely no idea of what he was doing. Nevertheless, he did it.
Legolas' movements slowed down, his hand fell to the table surface and first his eyes widened, but then they closed. Estel dared not to breathe, but when Legolas' eyes remained closed, he allowed his own ones to mimic the motion.
This made it possible for a whole new wave of sensations to wash over him. Suddenly he tasted. And Legolas tasted beautifully.
They sat with their lips pressed together. Ever so slowly Estel began to breathe and felt the rapidly turning world slowing down as well, cradling them softly, urging them on.
Legolas must have felt it too, because his hand landed on Estel's upper arm and his lips increased their pressure. The smallest, smallest of whimpers escaped Estel and he would have taken it back if he had had the power to do so. Where it came from, or why, he did not know, but at least Legolas did not break the kiss.
As Estel picked up his courage again, his mouth opened up a little. It seemed like his body made the decisions for him, for he had not thought of this either. And when he first tasted the inquisitive tip of Legolas' tongue a sensational wave of heat crashed over him. His own tongue responded, and carefully sneaked forth. Estel clearly heard the tiny gasp when they touched.
Sensation after sensation awoke within him, as he tenderly brushed against Legolas. When they finally drew apart, he felt his mind caught in a swirling mist. Legolas was staring at him, much like he was undoubtedly staring back at the prince.
"Estel," breathed Legolas.
"I really like you," Estel blurted out before he had time to check his words.
A shuffling noise seemed to come from far, far away. Before they knew it, they were not alone anymore.
"Estel?" Glorfindel's voice reverberated within the library walls. "My prince Legolas?"
Estel spun around in his chair. The elf lord was observing them with raised eyebrows and a curios expression.
"Estel, what have you done to Legolas? Why are you both covered in food and do you both realise that Lord Elrond will explode if you have smeared his precious documents!?"
He saw Glorfindel approaching. Estel was chased out of his chair and ordered to wash up. The same was asked of Legolas but in a slightly kinder way.
"You two are lucky I am in a good mood," Glorfindel announced as he propelled them towards the door. Off you are now! But if I do not see you in clean tunics at supper, I will have you scrubbing pots and pans all night," he added with a wink.
Estel and Legolas sped down the hallway, but as soon as they had rounded a corner, they both stopped. The human happily noted that they were almost the same height and he was very pleased that he had done all that growing last summer.
He felt the urge to giggle but was not sure that would suit the occasion. Instead he racked his mind for something to say, something that would make him seem older than his years – for although Legolas was young for an elf, he was still a lot older than Estel.
"I will see you at supper?" he inquired at last.
Legolas flashed a grin that in no way made him less alluring. "I believe you shall," he answered with all the training of a prince of his stature.
"Until then… then," Estel said and bowed his head, not exactly sure how these things were supposed to be handled, but determined to do his very best.
"Until then," Legolas echoed him. "Oh, and Estel?"
"Yes?"
"I did not offer you all that remained of my lunch. Here is the rest of it."
Into Estel's outstretched hand, the golden elven prince dropped a small, round cookie.
With a bright smile playing upon his face, Estel made for his chambers, clutching the present firmly to his chest.
Surely, this was the most beautiful cookie that had ever existed!
-ooo-
Here ends the first part of the tale. Ada is Sindarin for 'Dad' and Hrívë is the Quenya name for the season of winter. The second part is yours to read in one week. In the meantime, keep your eyes, minds and hearts open for unexpected blessings!