I’ll be home for Christmas

By Firniswin

The pale light flickered on a torch as the dim glow of the golden sun faded away behind the hills.

Aragorn looked up sadly as a child and father ran by, giggling and laughing as their smiles repeated to shine in his mind.

The man turned to Aragorn and smiled saluting as he did.

“Merry Christmas Captain Thorongil.”

The numenorean nodded and smiled, more for the soldier than himself.

“Merry Christmas to you Jeso.”

The little girl looked up at him and waved, he nodded in her direction.

Then kept walking down the dusty dirt lane as the stars began to shine over head.

Jeso frowned as he watched the proud form of his captain disappear into the night.

No one knew much of Captain Thorongil, he kept to himself and rarely said anything other than orders.

He was not a bad guy, not at all. He was very kind to those who made mistakes and those who did not. He treated all fairly and never seemed to slip-up himself.

All the men liked him a lot more than their other captains.

But he held such a mysterious air about him, all the men tried to see a glimpse of a letter from his family, or even hear him dreaming in his sleep.

They all wanted to know why he was so graceful in his actions, how he kept up when most men were ready to rest.

No one even knew his true age.

He looked about twenty to most of them, but they knew that was not the truth. One so experienced could not be less than thirty.

Aragorn looked up to see Earendil shining brightly among the other stars.

He sighed and shook his unkempt locks, and straightened his captain’s uniform.

He had tried desperately to get a job tonight guarding the stewards chambers. Even guarding the gate.

But everyone said he should rest, he had been doing so much lately they all worried for him.

He was tired of Christmas. He was starting to hate the holiday.

It never resulted the same emotions with him as other soldiers and captains.

They all had families to go home to, houses. Somewhere.

” I miss you Ada.” he whispered gingerly touching a medal on his coat.

He remembered the time he had sent the medal of honor to his father.

Estel had gotten a letter back, but not from Elrond. It had been from his brothers.

He looked up as he came upon a sign at an inn.

Aragorn walked upon the porch and walked through the door, it had already been opened.

He came upon a barrage of warm and welcoming smells.

He frowned and came upon the inn keeper, a big brute. Who by the looks of things, had had much ale in his lifetime.

“Welcome to The Fire Brand. What will you be havin’ Cap’ain?” the man massaged his white/brown whiskers and watched Aragorn with a cautious eye.

“I would like a room, you got a free one?” he asked looking about the mostly empty tavern.

The inn keeper looked at him quizzically.

“What ‘ya mean? Of course we got room. It’s Christmas, mate! All the rooms are empty.”

Strider looked impatiently at the keeper. “Well then, I would like one.” he said in his dry voice.

“Righty’ then. What one? Got a specific-”

“Anything, I will only be needin’ it a few days. Just till the regiments pull out again.”

The old inn keeper nodded and grabbed a key from the wall.

“Got anything?”

“No thank you. I can carry all my things.”

The man shrugged and handed over the key.

“Room 32.”

Aragorn nodded his thanks and began to walk through the room, carrying nothing but his sword and the clothes on his back.

He leapt up the stairs, but hissed as a jolt of pain from his latest wound made his muscle tense.

But he paid it no other mind and ran up the wooden steps towards his temporary sleeping quarters.

He came upon the door and smiled sadly as his hand grabbed the handle.

He turned it cautiously and was surprised to see how nice it was.

Nothing was lit, and he frowned as he looked about the room, their was no food or water. He would have to ask.

But otherwise, the bed was quite nicer than most other inns, and their was an actual bathing tub in the corner along with a cute little fireplace that was not yet lit.

One window, a large one, sat lonely in the corner. It’s draperies were a little weathered. But nothing that would cause the sunlight to shine through in the morning.

He wanted to sleep, he did not care if he did the whole time he stayed in the inn. Just as long as he bypassed the holiday all together.

Sighing, he sat down upon the bed and began to pull the muddy boots from his sore, weary feet.

He looked at the toes and saw the small amounts of blood that came from spots were the boot had been too tight and rubbed the skin raw.

The captain pulled up his shirt to look at his side, which was bandaged with fine white linen. You could see blood seeping through, but he paid it no mind and layed back on the bed, closing his eyes so he would not have to look at the dark interior of the room.

~-~

Warmth emanated from all around the room as he came back to awareness.

He let his eyes slowly open , all around him soft candle light glared in his groggy eyes.

As the sleep induced fog cleared from his eyes, he could see a figure hunched over before the fire. It was stirring something and he could not tell who it was because of the dark green hood and cloak that covered it’s body and features.

He felt his hair atop the soft pillow. It was wet and so was his entire body.

He lifted his head up and looked down at himself to see with ultimate surprise that he had no clothes on.

His middle was bandaged with clean white linen and all the grime was cleared from his body. All that covered him, was a thin but warm quilt.

He sighed softly as he felt the soft material between his slightly shaking fingers.

The man knew he should probably defend himself from this strange person in his room. But at this moment he was still too groggy to care.

The figure rose gracefully to it’s feet sending the hooded face in his direction.

“You are awake.”

Aragorn raised an eyebrow and looked up at the being.

You could easily see that the stranger was inches taller than Strider, and seemed to hold an arrogance all his own.

“Who are you?” Thorongil tried to rise, but bit back a cry as hot pain sizzled through his side. He clenched his side with both hands and hissed in agony.

The hooded figure ran foreword and placed a caring hand on Aragorn’s chest, pressing him gently down upon the bed.

“Rest mellon nin.”

At these words, the voice of the man before him suddenly came clear and his eyes widened in surprise.

“Mellon nin?” he questioned the tall figure before him, growling slightly as the stranger did not show himself, but rather grabbed a glass of clear water and tried to hand it to the man.

Putting the glass back on the bedside table, the stranger put his hands on his hips and cocked his hooded features.

“Either you have forgotten the fair tongue mellon nin, or our bet has been broken and our friendship has been cut.”

The man before him grabbed the hood and pulled it back to reveal a cascade of pale blonde hair that fell down about the shoulders and the blue-silver eyes that connected with the gray.

Aragorn sat back, his heart hammering and head beginning to spin in confusion and pain.

“Legolas?”

The elf smiled, a mirthful smile and knelt down by his friends side.

“How? Why?”

Legolas pulled the blanket back from the bandaged side and let his fingers travel to the tied end. Slowly he unwrapped the wound and began to inspect it gently.

“Well,” the elf prince laughed lightly at the surprise that sparkled in his friends eyes. “I thought, since you could not possibly be home for Christmas, I would bring Christmas joy to you.” he smiled. “Have you forgotten the days long ago, we spent in Rivendell and Mirkwood in the falling snow.”

Aragorn smiled and nodded, finally getting over the shock of having his best friend at his side.

“And the times we would attempt to impale each other with snow balls.”

Legolas laughed as he probed the long and narrow side wound that ran from Aragorn’s ribs to his hip.

“We never mastered that did we?”

Strider hissed as the elf found a rather inflamed and tender piece of skin.

“No.” he hissed out through clenched teeth.

The elf prince sobered and looked down at the floor, instantly grabbing up a long strip of linen.

He began to wrap it round the captain’s painful middle.

“So, how did you achieve this lovely ornament, Thorongil?”

“Oh, just my normal human weakness.” he sighed and looked at the elf’s blue eyes. “I had not had food in a few days because I was so busy, and well my body failed me rather quickly.”

Legolas smiled and pulled th3e bandage tight, garnering a moan from the man.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Aragorn laughed against the pain, and smiled when his friends eyes gleamed with an undying mirth.

But it did not last long, the man turned his eyes away.

“Why did you leave your father alone, to spend this holiday with me?” he asked softly. Unbelieving that the elf prince would leave his father on a night such as this.

“Oh Estel, my father could care less. He loves me, I have no doubt. But this holiday…I have many more of it to spend with my father. I have not many years to spend it with my best friend. Who knows when age will catch up with you?” he eyed the mortal wearily.

He smiled broadly once more.

“Speaking of which….”

Aragorn watched as the elf crawled to the floor and grabbed a few small packages and a parcel from his small leather bag and dropped them on the bed.

The man eyed the packages, raising an eyebrow at the look of them.

They were small and wrapped in light brown paper, each had a small tag written in perfect elven script.

“What are these?” he asked looking up at the blonde elf with bright eyes.

“Well what else do you give on Christmas Estel? They are gifts for you.” Legolas smiled and handed a small one to him that read on the tag:

To Estel

With love, amin gwador, Elladan.

With a smile he gently unwrapped the present.

He looked with shock as beautifully carved elven knife tumbled from the packaging. On it was scripted elvish letters and beautiful designs. The hilt was black and the script silver and gold entwined together to make a beautiful silver-gold swirl in each letter.

Aragorn gasped and held the knife aloft in his hand a moment. It was perfect size to fit in the sheath of his old knife that he had lost months ago in a war.

“How did he know?” he asked aloud as he turned the knife about in his hands and looked to Legolas in question.

“I have been with you Aragorn. Some of those nights that you have been delirious in a tent and swore to have seen me but you were so sick you could not be sure.” he nodded. “I was there. You really saw me.” he smiled sheepishly. “I told my father that if you were leaving, I was going with you. Even if you did not know it.”

Aragorn did not know what to say, so he just let the elf continue.

“I would slip in to see how you were while you slept, and before anyone could return. I would slip out again. I have been telling Imladris of you when I would return for supplies. I told Elladan you lost your elvish knife that he gave you for your twentieth birthday. So he replaced it, and I watched him make it Estel. It is made with skill and craftsmanship beyond his years.”

Aragorn only sat wide eyed.

The elf prince tossed the second present his way. And smiled.

“From Elrohir.” was all he said.

The captain picked up the package and undid the wrapping and saw inside a small pack of lembas.

The man smiled, and opened the leather packet.

Gingerly breaking off a piece, he chewed it and smiled as the sweet sensation flowed through his mouth.

The bread reminded him of home and made him feel like he was there.

Legolas smiled on seeing that his friend was happy with the food.

“He made those himself.” the elf informed and the man smiled.

Aragorn placed the lembas on the bedside table next to his knife and smiled.

“They did not have to do it.” he added softly, picking up his old clothes from the side of the bed where they were lying.

He began to slip on the clothes and winced when his side protested.

Legolas shook his head, he could not believe this man sometimes. How he always felt like he had to be alone, and did not need anything from anyone else. It was a wonder that he had survived all those years.

“Of course they did.”

Thorongil picked up the new knife and sheathed it in the empty sheath of his old knife, but he did it slowly as not to make more burning in his already beyond painful side.

“They love you Aragorn. They are your brothers. They would die for you.” Legolas explained eyeing the man wearily.

He had never had any brothers so he did not know what it was like to have that kind of love in your life. He had a father, that was all, and sometimes he wondered if his own father even knew he lived among him anymore.

That was most of the reason why he had decided to follow his friend. He had nothing worth staying at his home, so he taken up Aragorn’s path. When battles had ensued, he had even done a little fighting. He would let his arrows on ones that were plotting to kill is friend, or near the forest’s edge. He would come from within and attack with his knives.

“I know that is an odd thing for me to say, of all people. But it is the truth. I have seen them. They have a shrine for you. They keep every letter you send, every souvenir. Every heartfelt note they cherish and keep, they keep it so they may still hope that one day you will return to them.” Legolas smiled and stood up from the bed, tears welling up in his eyes.

“So don’t tell me that they don’t love you.”

The man pulled his tunic over his head, the his overcoat.

He stopped and looked down at the clothes he was putting on, the clothes he had thought to have thrown away.

His leather ranger jacket and old black tunic and leggings clung to him nicely. He smiled and looked up at Legolas who was smiling broadly.

The elf prince nodded and smiled softly. “You look better in your old clothes.” he announced reaching in his pack and pulling out another thing.

But this time, it was only a small letter of parchment.

“And this-” Legolas let him grab it. “I from Elrond.”

Aragorn stared up at him wide eyed before tearing off the seal and reading the text below.

Tear began to water in his eyes and he smiled broadly, trying to hold back the sobs that choked him. He let his proud shoulder sink as he read the note.

Ion nin,

I hope you are well. Legolas told us that you are in great health and at the present only have one wound.

For this I thank Eru. Just think if Lord Legolas had to drag you home so I could patch you up once again.

He told me if he found need he would drag you home. But so far he tells me good news.

He says that you get stronger and wiser each passing day and that you are now smarter than the stewards son. I laughed when I heard this.

Aragorn, I wanted to tell you that I love you dearly. I know sometimes I do not show it, but it is the truth.

It matters not that you love Arwen. I only want what is best for her. You know this.

But at the same time, I want what it best for you. I want you to learn and grow. I love you ion nin. And I will never say otherwise. You are my son, and I love you so very much.

And I miss you as well, at times I wish to follow Legolas to see you. But nae, work has kept me busy here.

The other day I had to heal a few elves because of a warg problem to the East.

But that is getting off the subject. I just wanted you to know how proud your brothers and I are of you. Never loose hope Estel. Never loose courage. And fear not. I will always love you.

Namarie.

Love, Ada

Legolas could now see tears freely falling from the man’s face and trying to run again the stubbles that his small beard had made.

The elf prince bent down and hugged the young captain. Soothingly rubbing circles on his back.

“He meant it you know.”

Thorongil nodded letting the sobs escape him mouth and letting Legolas continue to rub his back.

“I-I kn-now he d-did.” the tears were now slowly stopping and he wiped them away gently.

He smiled up at the elven prince and placed the letter in the pocket of his rangers coat.

Aragorn stood up cautiously, checking all his weapons and pulling his old black leather gloves on.

He pushed Legolas playfully away as the elf tried to check his wound again.

“Come on.” he started to walk towards the door, his once weary feet anxious to show the elf his world.

Legolas looked around, his head lowering a bit.

“But Aragorn, what if someone sees me?” the man shoved it off.

“Who cares Legolas. Come on.” he grabbed the pale hand and pulled him through the door and down the stairs and into the now darkened room.

The pot on the fire bubbled and smoked.

The man ran out the door just to trick and plunge face first into the ground.

But he was surprised when his vision was clouded with white cold instead of dark warmth. He struggled to rise and he felt someone grab his collar and hall him up to his shaking feet.

He looked about in awe to see that the entire city of Minas Tirith was covered in thick white powder.

“Thorongil? Does it usually snow in Gondor?” the elf asked befuddle, but a smile was on his face.

Aragorn shook his head, the dark unruly hair settled around his shoulder, white dots scuffled in his hair.

“No. It is usually to far South.”

The elf prince quickly scooped up a ball of dazzling white snow and aimed it. Letting the ball fire, it smacked the numenorean right in the head.

Legolas laughed as the powder clung to the snow dampened hair and clothes.

Quickly scooping up his own, Aragorn let the ball fly. It hit the elf prince right in the face as he was laughing.

He coughed and sputtered, white snow falling from his mouth as well as drool and the other snow that had already melted.

“Ooooo! You are going to pay for the Estel!” he growled running and scooping up balls of white snow.

The man began to run, and when he looked back he began to run all the faster.

Legolas was catching up, and in his arms were a load of snowballs.

Aragorn skidded to a stop and grabbed some snow, rounding it in a ball he threw it at the elf. Hitting him square in the face again and making his crash into the white flurry.

“Ha! No ones better than I Taryalanca eldar!” the elf prince rose to his feet chuckling, he looked to his friend. Eyes gleaming with fury, but their was mirth trapped in their depths too.

From high in a window, Jeso growled and opened the shutters to yell at the hooligans who were ruining his sleep.

He looked down to see a man, he recognized the man immediately as his captain. But the other he did not, his eyes went wide as the figure approached Thorongil.

Jeso saw the fair hair and pointed ears, he hardly believed in fairytales any longer. But this, this was genuine. A real elf in the street of Minas Tirith making it a joyful Christmas for Captain Thorongil.

He watched a bit longer as the man dropped down to his knee, grabbed a handful of snow and chucked it at the fair elf.

It hit him in the side and he looked a bit mad, but Jeso could see the joy that he walked.

Jeso finally got up the courage and smiled down at the two beings, sticking his head out.

“Merry Christmas Captain Thorongil! Merry Christmas Master elf!” he called waving.

Both looked up and smiled, Aragorn waved back, his smile genuine.

“Marry Christmas Jeso!” the captain waved and looked back to Legolas. “Merry Christmas indeed.”

FINIS

Ok, all of you know the basic words I used for the elvish I think.

Ion nin- My son

Taryalanca eldar- Stubborn elf

Anyway, one more thing before I leave you all now. J

MERRY CHRISTMAS! And may the Lord God bless your holidays.

Thanks to all who review and no thanks to those who flame.

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAVE A HAPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!