First of all, thank you all for the wonderful reviews. It's the best
feeling for any writer to know they're doing something right.
niphredil87: Wow. Thank you so much, I've never received such a lovely review before, and I have to say yours made me smiley all day. Thank you for sticking with it, even though it's past Christmas now. I have to say I can't take all the credit though. Lest of all forget the books I'm working from, or Rupi, my wonderful Beta who proves that it is indeed possible to change a sows ear into a silk purse . . . I hope you like the rest of the story as much, even though this chapter is really short. Once again, thank you, and God Bless. madkornfan: Soon enough? Sorry it's short! Another chapter on the way in the next few days, this WILL be finished by Twelfth Night. DuckSorceress: Wow, I'm on a favourites list? Brilliant! Lil' ol' me! Thank you! Achika-chan : Thanks!
As always, For Rupi, and my muses, Hallathulëion and Aireannonion.
Chapter 4: Present _+_+_+_+_+_
Hodie Christus natus est:
Hodie Slavator apparuit.
Hodie in terra canunt angeli,
Laetantur archangeli.
Hodie exsultant justi dicentes
Gloria in excelsis Deo.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
-Benjamin Britten
_+_+_+_+_+_
Once again, it was the tolling of a bell that awoke Elessar from slumber. Dazed, he fixed his eyes on the bedclothes, contemplating the confusion he felt over not remembering falling asleep. Last thing that he recalled was his angry outburst at Mithrandir. no, not Mithrandir, the spirit. The ghost of Christmas past.
And what confusion that held in itself! What mischief brought this to him? Reminding him of his past, when his life had been happier and free from Arwen's betrayal? What was the entity that reminded him of how he had once felt about Legolas, as a friend, a companion and his yearning for more?
"'Tis but Humbug," he growled to himself as a fleeting dream that he had withheld in his brief sleep. A dream that had been filled with luminous smiles, twinkling laughter and soft, golden hair. A dream of hidden passion . . .
He was broken out of his reverie by hearty laughter and the clink of mugs in a side chamber off his sleeping rooms. A warm glow was visible from under the door, as he pulled himself to his feet and crept towards the mysterious door with all the stealth he could muster. Carefully he wrapped a hand round the handle and reached for the hilt of his sword with the other. At another burst of laughter, he pushed his body against the door and tensed his muscles in readiness.
An exclamation reached his ears just as he was about to burst through the door, making him pause and release his grip on the sword.
"Pippin! I say, if you continue supping as you are there will not be a drop to be had in the whole of Middle-Earth!" The voice was unmistakably familiar, and it prompted Elessar to enter the room in a more stately manner than he had at first planned to. The sight that greeted him was jolly, indeed.
There was a fire burning merrily in the grate, casting a fervent glow over the entire chamber, although the items therein cast a peculiar, if not comforting, light of their own. What lay within were a plentiful selection of the finest fruits of anywhere on Middle-Earth, and several barrels of pungent ale. In the centre of all this sat four figures on rugs Elessar was not aware of owning.
"Strider!" A cheerful voice cried, and Elessar blinked once, hard, to convince himself that he was not going crazy.
But it transpired that Samwise Gamgee was still grinning up at him when his eyes finally re-opened. Groaning, he stared back at the hobbit.
"How have you been, Aragorn?" a gentle voice spoke from behind Sam. Elessar looked round the sturdy hobbit's frame to meet the crystalline eyes of Frodo and he stuttered before answering.
"Frodo? Sam? Merry? Pippin? How are you here in Gondor? It is very confusing to me, I fear I am not in my right mind . . ."
Frodo held up a hand to silence the King.
"You forget what you have been told but this evening, Aragorn," Frodo murmured. "We are not the hobbits you knew, we merely take their form for this: your second lesson. The hour is three." Aragorn passed a look over Sam and Merry's earnest faces.
Looking up from where his nose was buried in the bottom of a tankard, Pippin nodded fervently. "'Tis true. We," he paused for dramatic effect, "are the ghost of Christmas present."
"'Tis true, then. I have utterly lost my mind," Elessar groaned to himself. "I dream of Hobbits."
"Ah, no!" Merry cried. "Not a dream. It is the morning before the dawn preceding the day of Christmas! Can you honestly not say that it is a day that fills your heart with its joy?" Elessar looked at the Hobbit's earnest face and fell solemn, all traces of any brief merriment gone instantly.
"I feel not the joys," he answered honestly.
"Then we must show you, Strider!" Sam enthused, and within brief moments, Elessar, again, was no longer in his side chambers. The scene was serene, white as the pale skin of a certain wood elf in the milky dawn sun over the snow that dusted everything.
"Where are we?" Elessar questioned, bemused.
"We are in the streets of Gondor, Aragorn," Frodo smiled. "And 'tis Christmas!"
"The hour is three, how can it be light?" Elessar murmured, noticing figures running down the street towards them, arms laden with gifts wrapped in bright paper.
"We show you today as it will be," Pippin grinned, watching the children with the presents. They, closely followed by their parents who smiled and laughed at the children's antics, strolled past without noticing the four hobbits and the king.
"I recognise that man!" Elessar breathed. "He is one of my accountants!" Something occurred to him then and he exhaled, turning to his left to look at Frodo. "I pay him so little, but yet he is happy and he manages to give gifts to his family. I do not understand."
"He has saved the entire year, putting away all he can spare so that his family may have a merry Christmas," the Hobbit replied, a smile on his face.
"Christmas means that much to him?" Elessar asked, shocked.
"And to everyone else." The family passed on and disappeared round a corner, their joyous laughter ringing around the square long after their departure. Elessar stared after them, a thoughtful look on his face.
"Let us see someone else on this beautiful Christmas morning!" Pippin cried, gesturing wildly about him, ale from his mug sloshing into the air. As he spoke the scene changed yet again, to a place where Elessar did not recognise anything. It was a small dwelling with a red door and very few small windows of a dingy glass. A cheerful sound came from within, and the Hobbits moved forward together, passing through the front wall of the house like it was made of nothing. Elessar followed cautiously, stretching his hand out in front of him to make sure it was possible to pass through the wall, also. Finding it so, he passed in as well.
+_+_+_+_+_+
To be continued.
Padawan AngelinaDaisey Barancristeil
niphredil87: Wow. Thank you so much, I've never received such a lovely review before, and I have to say yours made me smiley all day. Thank you for sticking with it, even though it's past Christmas now. I have to say I can't take all the credit though. Lest of all forget the books I'm working from, or Rupi, my wonderful Beta who proves that it is indeed possible to change a sows ear into a silk purse . . . I hope you like the rest of the story as much, even though this chapter is really short. Once again, thank you, and God Bless. madkornfan: Soon enough? Sorry it's short! Another chapter on the way in the next few days, this WILL be finished by Twelfth Night. DuckSorceress: Wow, I'm on a favourites list? Brilliant! Lil' ol' me! Thank you! Achika-chan : Thanks!
As always, For Rupi, and my muses, Hallathulëion and Aireannonion.
Chapter 4: Present _+_+_+_+_+_
Hodie Christus natus est:
Hodie Slavator apparuit.
Hodie in terra canunt angeli,
Laetantur archangeli.
Hodie exsultant justi dicentes
Gloria in excelsis Deo.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
-Benjamin Britten
_+_+_+_+_+_
Once again, it was the tolling of a bell that awoke Elessar from slumber. Dazed, he fixed his eyes on the bedclothes, contemplating the confusion he felt over not remembering falling asleep. Last thing that he recalled was his angry outburst at Mithrandir. no, not Mithrandir, the spirit. The ghost of Christmas past.
And what confusion that held in itself! What mischief brought this to him? Reminding him of his past, when his life had been happier and free from Arwen's betrayal? What was the entity that reminded him of how he had once felt about Legolas, as a friend, a companion and his yearning for more?
"'Tis but Humbug," he growled to himself as a fleeting dream that he had withheld in his brief sleep. A dream that had been filled with luminous smiles, twinkling laughter and soft, golden hair. A dream of hidden passion . . .
He was broken out of his reverie by hearty laughter and the clink of mugs in a side chamber off his sleeping rooms. A warm glow was visible from under the door, as he pulled himself to his feet and crept towards the mysterious door with all the stealth he could muster. Carefully he wrapped a hand round the handle and reached for the hilt of his sword with the other. At another burst of laughter, he pushed his body against the door and tensed his muscles in readiness.
An exclamation reached his ears just as he was about to burst through the door, making him pause and release his grip on the sword.
"Pippin! I say, if you continue supping as you are there will not be a drop to be had in the whole of Middle-Earth!" The voice was unmistakably familiar, and it prompted Elessar to enter the room in a more stately manner than he had at first planned to. The sight that greeted him was jolly, indeed.
There was a fire burning merrily in the grate, casting a fervent glow over the entire chamber, although the items therein cast a peculiar, if not comforting, light of their own. What lay within were a plentiful selection of the finest fruits of anywhere on Middle-Earth, and several barrels of pungent ale. In the centre of all this sat four figures on rugs Elessar was not aware of owning.
"Strider!" A cheerful voice cried, and Elessar blinked once, hard, to convince himself that he was not going crazy.
But it transpired that Samwise Gamgee was still grinning up at him when his eyes finally re-opened. Groaning, he stared back at the hobbit.
"How have you been, Aragorn?" a gentle voice spoke from behind Sam. Elessar looked round the sturdy hobbit's frame to meet the crystalline eyes of Frodo and he stuttered before answering.
"Frodo? Sam? Merry? Pippin? How are you here in Gondor? It is very confusing to me, I fear I am not in my right mind . . ."
Frodo held up a hand to silence the King.
"You forget what you have been told but this evening, Aragorn," Frodo murmured. "We are not the hobbits you knew, we merely take their form for this: your second lesson. The hour is three." Aragorn passed a look over Sam and Merry's earnest faces.
Looking up from where his nose was buried in the bottom of a tankard, Pippin nodded fervently. "'Tis true. We," he paused for dramatic effect, "are the ghost of Christmas present."
"'Tis true, then. I have utterly lost my mind," Elessar groaned to himself. "I dream of Hobbits."
"Ah, no!" Merry cried. "Not a dream. It is the morning before the dawn preceding the day of Christmas! Can you honestly not say that it is a day that fills your heart with its joy?" Elessar looked at the Hobbit's earnest face and fell solemn, all traces of any brief merriment gone instantly.
"I feel not the joys," he answered honestly.
"Then we must show you, Strider!" Sam enthused, and within brief moments, Elessar, again, was no longer in his side chambers. The scene was serene, white as the pale skin of a certain wood elf in the milky dawn sun over the snow that dusted everything.
"Where are we?" Elessar questioned, bemused.
"We are in the streets of Gondor, Aragorn," Frodo smiled. "And 'tis Christmas!"
"The hour is three, how can it be light?" Elessar murmured, noticing figures running down the street towards them, arms laden with gifts wrapped in bright paper.
"We show you today as it will be," Pippin grinned, watching the children with the presents. They, closely followed by their parents who smiled and laughed at the children's antics, strolled past without noticing the four hobbits and the king.
"I recognise that man!" Elessar breathed. "He is one of my accountants!" Something occurred to him then and he exhaled, turning to his left to look at Frodo. "I pay him so little, but yet he is happy and he manages to give gifts to his family. I do not understand."
"He has saved the entire year, putting away all he can spare so that his family may have a merry Christmas," the Hobbit replied, a smile on his face.
"Christmas means that much to him?" Elessar asked, shocked.
"And to everyone else." The family passed on and disappeared round a corner, their joyous laughter ringing around the square long after their departure. Elessar stared after them, a thoughtful look on his face.
"Let us see someone else on this beautiful Christmas morning!" Pippin cried, gesturing wildly about him, ale from his mug sloshing into the air. As he spoke the scene changed yet again, to a place where Elessar did not recognise anything. It was a small dwelling with a red door and very few small windows of a dingy glass. A cheerful sound came from within, and the Hobbits moved forward together, passing through the front wall of the house like it was made of nothing. Elessar followed cautiously, stretching his hand out in front of him to make sure it was possible to pass through the wall, also. Finding it so, he passed in as well.
+_+_+_+_+_+
To be continued.
Padawan AngelinaDaisey Barancristeil