A Very Gondor Christmas

By The Last Evenstar

A/N: This is not a particularly good or funny chapter, but essential to the storyline. Because if nothing gets hectic and unpromising, then how will it be soppy and joyous at the end?

Chapter Three: Walking in a Winter Wonderland

"Ada! Ada!" Aragorn groaned and rolled over.

"Nmph?"

Eldarion was jumping excitedly on his father's bed. "Ada! Wake up! It's Christmas Eve!'

Aragorn tried to block out the noise with a pillow. "Nmmm! Hmmphnndmm, fmmm!"

"Ada! You promised to give me ride!"

The king rolled over and stared blearily at his son. "I did!"

"Yes! You promised you take me on horsey ride! On Christmas Eve!"

Aragorn tried to recall making such a promise. "If I did, I didn't mean at the crack of dawn!" He peered out the window. The sun was shining in the sky. He sat bolt upright. "Eldarion! Why didn't Naneth wake me up? I have things to do today!"

The little boy shrugged. "I don't know. Can we go now?"

Aragorn sat up and struggled out of bed. "Not yet, Eldarion. Maybe tonight, or this afternoon if I have time."

The child's lower lip trembled. "I wanna go now, Ada!"

Aragorn groaned. "Why don't you go play with Bergil?"

"Bergil's too busy with Pippin." Eldarion looked up sadly. "They said I'm too little to play with them."

"Hmmmmm." Aragorn ushered his son out absently. "Maybe you can build a snowman."

Upon entering the hall, he was bombarded with at least twenty people trying to get his attention.

"Aragorn!" cried Legolas, rushing up to his old friend. "How are you, mate?"

Aragorn blinked, a little disoriented. "Legolas! Hello! And Gimli! What a pleasure!" He frowned. "Did I invite you?"

"No harm in a little unexpected visit!" roared the dwarf. "Merry Christmas!"

He looked over at the legion of Mirkwood elves. "Did I invite THEM?"

"No," laughed Legolas, "just a few cousins tagging along!"

"I always said Elves breed like rabbits," grumbled Gimli.

Aragorn turned his attention to the Rohirrm. "Who invited THEM?"

Faramir turned apologetically from a few feet away. "Eowyn. You know she gets homesick –"

"And where did all the hobbits come from?"

"Oh, you know, just well-wishers from the Shire. When they heard about the accident –"

Aragorn shook his head in despair. "I give them a whole big country to themselves, and they have to bring all of Hobbiton HERE for Christmas?" He turned back to Faramir. "Where is Arwen?"

"Outside, I think."

"In this weather? She'll be the death of them both!" He looked around for his son. "Eldarion?"

He saw Lothliriel coming toward him. "Your son went off with Eomer. A horse ride, I think."

"Are you JOKING?" Aragorn's head felt like it was splitting open. There were horses in the dining room, Elves singing carols, hobbits making pudding, and where was his family? What happened to the peaceful Christmas?

"Aragorn! I hope it's all right that I arranged a banquet tonight –"

"King Elessar! I wish to have a word when –"

"My apologies, King, for the mess, but –"

"Estel! We need –"

Aragorn covered his ears and tried to find his way outside. But once he reached the outer wall, he found not the usual solitude, but an army of hobbits flinging snowballs from a catapult. Running down to the courtyard, he found a group of Rohirrm drinking and singing loudly,

"Good King Numenor went down,

"On the feast of Stephen!

"When the snow lay all around,

"Deep and crisp and even!"

Groaning, he made his way to the White Tree. Arwen was sitting there, looking quite alarmed by the commotion. "Arwen!" He sat down next to her. "What in Eru's name is going on here?"

"I haven't the faintest! I went to wake Eldarion, but when I tried to get back to you, the hall was so crowded that I couldn't get into the bedchamber! Aragorn, where have all these people come from?"

He shook his head. "I have no idea. But it appears that our son has gone gallivanting off with Eomer!"

She sighed. "Is that wise? You know how roughly Eomer rides!"

"I didn't give him permission! They just rode off . . . and the town boys are raging war against the hobbits, and there are horses running wild inside the house, not to mention all the unauthorized festivities that seem to be going on! I simply cannot escape!"

Arwen looked mournfully at the snow-laden branches of the tree they had decorated the night before. "I was so looking forward to a nice, quiet Christmas . . . as a family . . . taking sleigh rides, making eggnog, getting Eldarion into the spirit of the holiday, and now he's nowhere to be seen and God forbid I should try to fight my way into my own kitchen!"

She collapsed against his shoulder, tired of ranting. He patted her swollen belly. "At least we're all here together." They looked around at the snow freshly falling and the glistening White City. "It is a beautiful place."

She smiled. "Wonderful. But the drunken Rohirrm kind of lessen the view."

Legolas worked his way through the crowd until he found the Steward. "Faramir!"

Faramir turned dourly around, with the hangdog look of an overworked man. "What is it now, Legolas?"

"I just thought you should know that your wife left with Lothliriel an hour ago to take a 'brisk, ten-minute walk' and has not yet returned. Also, we need all the horses out of the dining hall for tonight's show. Plus, we've had several complaints about troublesome hobbits and the townsmen are threatening to blockade if they are not dealt with. Oh, and we were wondering if you'd like to play a wise man in tonight's pageant –"

"Stop!' Faramir held up his hand. "We can't get the horses out, lest they should decide to rampage Minas Tirith. I'm sure Eowyn and Lothliriel will be fine, but if they don't show up soon, send out a search party. Tell the hobbits that someone's made custard; that will throw them off. And cancel the bloody pageant!" He turned and walked away from the despondent elf, just to run head-on into a sopping Eomer, leading his horse into the hall. Eldarion was trailing behind, wet to the core and shivering madly.

Faramir groaned. "Eldarion, go find Imrahil. Tell her to give you something so as you don't freeze to death! And where are your parents?"

Aragorn and Arwen sat in silence, gazing out at the bustling kingdom. "It seems that I have worn out my usefulness as King," remarked Aragorn.

Just then, Faramir came rushing up. "Thank goodness I found you! The situation inside is dire. Fights have been breaking out and several have gone missing. Legolas is STILL planning a pageant, and he insists that we fit everyone into the dining hall to see it. Eldarion is ill, we're afraid, from the cold. And those bloody Rohirrm will NOT STOP SINGING!" He paused, out of breath. "And we're out of custard." With that, he turned on his heel and sped back inside.

Arwen looked up mournfully. "No chance of sleigh rides or eggnog now, I suppose."

Aragorn stood. "I have no idea how to deal with all these people! Poor Eldarion, this will not be a merry Christmas for him! Oh, what am I to do?"

"You could send them away," suggested Arwen.

"Yes, but on Christmas Eve? I don't think –"

Arwen suddenly gasped and clutched at her stomach. "Aragorn!"

He looked puzzled. "If you want them gone THAT badly –"

"It's not that! My waters have broken!"

A/N: Dun dun DUN.