In honor of this holiday season!

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The Drums of Yuletide!

The deep rumbling resonance of the large rounded drums was felt by the merry makers as they danced in honor of the winter solstice inside the grand hall of Thranduil’s cavernous palace. About this time the roots of the hill where Thranduil’s Halls were kept would settle and create deep rumbling sounds of their own which all Elves and living creatures learned to welcome as a sign of settling for the winter snows that came days after the solstice.

As the drums beat the dancers performed a joyous and playful dance where males and females vied for dominance. The male Elves wore holly in their hair which represented their immortal fate, and the women wore ivy in their hair and an ivy necklace which accentuated the female bosom, celebrating fertility.

The maidens would sing, "Ivy, ivy, I love you, In my bosom I put you, The first young [Elf] who speaks to me, My future husband he shall be", to which the males responded, “Like the garlands in my hair, holly shall forever be, as my love to thee!” (1)

And so the winter solstice celebrated the renewal of life, the rite of fertility, so fiercely defended by the wood Elves in these times of Shadow.

Legolas was jumping merrily in an out of the crowd, jingling as he went. Woven in throughout his hair was not only the holly, but small bells that created the most pleasant of jingles. Legolas was not alone in his bodily décor as it was a Silvan tradition to celebrate the Solstice with as much noise and merry making as possible.

Bodies swayed and jumped in rhythm with the mighty drums, aided by the delightful voices of minstrels who had indulged in a lovely and floral dessert wine.

One Elf was trying to lean inconspicuously against the stone walls which were layered in rich tapestries and evergreen garlands inlaid with dried spring buds, holly and ivy. The Elf admired the lovely smell of the décor but he was a little hesitant to join the Wood Elves in their merry dancing.

The Elf contemplated the mass of bodies converging in the large hall. The great hearth at the end of the hall was ablaze with a roaring fire which added its own voice to the music. Surrounding the area where the dancers converged were small trees, potted in large earthen containers. In the trees were hundreds of candles whose warmth caused a sweet fragrance to emit from the delicate leaves.

“It is amazing the entire hall does not catch on fire,” the solitary Elf thought. He watched, his shoulders tense as a wayward dancer almost tumbled onto a tree next to him. “Oh no,” the Elf thought, “these wood Elves are going to be the death of me.”

The Elf dressed in an elegant robe of velvet in the deepest of purples, covered his eyes, as if trying to hide from imminent disaster. As he breathed in deeply to calm his nerves the Elf felt the deliberate jingling of bells on his face.

“There is only one Elf in all of Arda who would do such a thing,” the Elf announced icily.

“And this Elf says that you Peredhil need to join in the fray! Here have some wine,” and with that Glorfindel sloppily handed Elrond a glass full of the sweet dessert wine, of Silvan make, and traditionally consumed during the Silvan season of Yuletide.

Glorfindel swung his arm over Elrond’s shoulder, and leaning heavily into him, whispered, “Remember you are here to enjoy yourself!”

Elrond smelled the strong presence of the sweet wine on Glorfindel’s breath, and realized that Glorfindel was now leaning on him for balance. Recognizing Glorfindel’s predicament, Elrond let out a hearty laugh, “The mighty Balrog slayer is rendered useless by mere Silvan wine?”

Glorfindel furrowed his eyebrows as best he could, but the result was more comical as his muscles were not cooperating.

Elrond slapped his knee with his free hand and doubled over laughing. It had been too long since he had seen Glorfindel so inebriated.

Glorfindel realized Elrond was laughing at his expense. “You,” Glorfindel shouted, pointing at the Noldo.

Elrond looked up towards the Balrog slayer, trying to contain the laughter that still consumed him.

“Yes you Half Elven, drink that glass in your hand,” Glorfindel demanded.

Elrond obliged and sipped the wine which was indeed deliciously sweet.

“No,” Glorfindel bellowed becoming more of a belligerent drunkard than an amusing one, “drink it all!”

Elrond noticed that a curious audience surrounded the two and in the crowd were his sons who now cheered, “Drink!”

Legolas who was also gathered to partake of the spectacle motioned to the Silvan drummers to start up a merry and pulsating tune worthy of taking in drink.

As the drums beat deeply through the crowd Legolas began to jump merrily in and around the crowd, shouting, “Drink, drink, drink!”

Soon Elladan and Elrohir joined Legolas jumping and shouting, “Drink!”

Glorfindel somehow found his legs again and joined the ruckus.

Elrond noted that it was probably the newly filled glass in Glorfindel’s hand that renewed his spirits. Elrond shook his head in mock disapproval and raised his goblet to the crowd which elicited a hearty roar of approval, and soon after that the lore master was downing the sweet wine which went down a little too easily. The crowd erupted in more merry madness and began singing a hearty song that celebrated the season.

Elrond felt warmth begin to emanate from his belly and looked sadly into his empty goblet, wishing to taste more of that fine drink, and to Elrond’s delight, his goblet was soon filled with the dessert wine once more.

“Thank you Thranduil,” Elrond acknowledged his gracious pourer. “Does this wine pour so freely year round?”

“Oh goodness no Elrond, now imagine that! No, no, the wine is made from the berries of a tree that begins to bloom during the time of the winter solstice. At the end of the winter we gather these berries and prepare this lovely drink you have before you. It is not ready to drink until winter.”

“Ah,” Elrond noted, “Now I understand the sweetness of the wine. The berries must be so dried by the winter weather, they retain a high sugar content, but ‘tis not all in this process. I know enough that these berries are probably fermented in small barrels made of, mmm, beech wood, of course,” Elrond noted smugly.

Thranduil slapped the lord of Imladris heartily on his back, “Only you and my kinsman Celeborn have such a knowledgeable palate.”

“But tell me Thranduil, what is the ingredient you add. I cannot put my finger on it,” Elrond mused as he finished his now third glass of the wine.

“Ah dear Elrond, though you are known as the master of all lore, this tad bit of knowledge I must say is a secret. I myself learned of it only after I became king. It is a highly regarded secret amongst the wood Elves.”

Elrond noted that Thranduil sobered upon mentioning this last bit of information. “Oropher, this was his favorite holiday was it not?”

Thranduil nodded as he looked at the hall full of merry makers.

Elrond raised his glass, “To Oropher then and his love of life and good times, and to our beloveds who cannot share these times with us!”

Thranduil looked surprised at Elrond’s gesture, but gladly raised his glass to his father and departed wife, “To Oropher, an Elf who enjoyed only the best of wines, and to our dearest loves!”

And with that the two Elves drank merrily into the night, Thranduil soon managing to see that Elrond was dancing the night away.

In another corner of a large hall, Glorfindel was leaning against another wall.

“You do enjoy holding up the walls in my Adar’s halls. Do not worry Glorfindel, this solid hill will not come down on you,” Legolas chided the elder Elf. Legolas positioned himself so he stood mere inches from Glorfindel

Glorfindel raised a single eyebrow at the younger Elf, “You think I am done in for the evening?”

Legolas shrugged and raised his own eyebrow in response to the other. As Glorfindel managed to straighten himself up from off the wall, Legolas, attempting to take advantage of Glorfindel’s state, pushed heavily on Glorfindel's shoulder, trying to topple him over, but the Balrog slayer did not budge, nay not even an inch.

He gifted the young Elf with a wicked smile and whispered into Legolas’ ear, “You will have to try better than that sweet prince.”

“Try, you say,” Legolas responded, “pray tell, how can I try better?”

Glorfindel threw his head back and laughed, then with all his might pushed Legolas, causing him to topple backwards and land solidly on his backside.

Legolas sat on the floor looking startled.

Glorfindel was now dancing merrily to the deep beat of the dreams and accompanying fiddles, laughing at the prince’s oh so misfortunate accident.

Legolas was not to be out down and in one swift graceful move swung his leg out from under him, catching Glorfindel’s feet and throwing them out from under him. Legolas spun upward in a balletic move. Now he was staring down at the golden haired Noldo who was sprawled out on his back.

Glorfindel swiftly jumped to his feet and dusted himself off, throwing a dagger like glare the Prince’s way.

Legolas simply raised his shoulders and grabbed the hand of a very pretty maiden kissing it softly and seductively, all the while locking vision with Glorfindel.

“Shall we dance,” Legolas purred in the ear of his blushing companion. The maiden nodded demurely, batting her lashes towards the Prince that now swept her away amidst the many bodies of the dancers. Legolas toyed with his partner’s necklace of ivy, singing softly into the beautiful Silvan maiden’s delicate ears, “ Ivy, ivy, I love you, In this bosom I put you, The first young maiden who plays with me, My solstice lover she shall be", to which the young maiden responded, not to be outdone, “Like the garlands in your hair, holly shall this evening be, as my lust for thee.”

Glorfindel straightened his hair out and smiled evilly in the direction of the Prince.

“What do you think he intends to do,” Elladan asked his brother.

“When it comes to Glorfindel, expect anything,” Elrohir added, “and let us make sure we are not around when it does.”

“Agreed, now let us go find some delightful company!”

And so the darkly handsome twins found equally beautiful maidens who were clearly willing to provide the kind of delightful company the two sought. Soon the two couples were caught up in the playful but suggestive dance of the winter solstice.

Legolas led his partner from the dance floor, casually glancing around him, looking for a conspiring Glorfindel. Fortunate for him, Legolas thought, Glorfindel was no where to be seen.

“Shall we my lady,” Legolas whispered as he pressed his lips against the young maiden’s neck.

“We shall,” the dark haired Elf named Rhîwen replied, pressing her hands into Legolas’ lower body. This elicited a large and voracious smile on the part of Legolas. The two snuck out into the night where they were greeted by falling snow.

“See my lady, the Valar themselves have seen to it that we have a fresh and white bed on which to lie,” Legolas whispered hungrily into his companions ear, allowing his breath to linger on the sensitive tips.

“Yes, my lord, what better way to celebrate rhîw’s [winter’s] renewal than by honoring the ancient ways. On this night may you serve your Silvan heritage.”

“Rhîwen, maiden of winter, I will honor thee tonight, beneath the stars of Varda,” Legolas spoke softly caressing his partner’s cheeks.

Soon the two were lost in a kiss, with nothing more than a cloak serving as a barrier from the snow beneath them.

“My lord,” Rhîwen breathed heavily…

Legolas put his hand on her lips, “Legolas, my lady, simply Legolas.”

Legolas hands deftly maneuvered the many buttons that impeded his way towards territories he longed to touch and kiss. He felt not the cold as his body was consumed in the fires of passion. He felt nimble fingers doing the same and soon the two lovers found their paths unobstructed and free to explore with hungry kisses.

Rhîwen held a piece of holly and ivy in her hands and crushed the leaves between her fingers and whispered the ancient words that hearkened to their Avari origins, “Life anew, I share with you.” And so the two were as one on a winter’s night, and the stars they twinkled as if delighting in the joy of the Firstborn. (2)

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(1) The line recited by the maidens is not of my own making, but a traditional saying concerning the use of ivy and women in Christmas lore. I simply changed a word from man to Elf! The male response is however, wholly my own. But the idea that holly represents immortality is not, as an evergreen, it has represented immortality in many cultures. Here’s a great tad bit of information concerning holly and what else, Elves! “Holly was taken into homes when winter began to shelter the elves and fairies who could live with mortals at this time without causing injury (maybe they get trodden on at other times?). Holly was regarded as an excellent form of protection for all manner of things but specifically against evil spirits, poisons, thunder and lightning.”

(2) I would like to point out that having Silvan practices with Avari origins is not an original idea of mine. There are many authors out there that delve deeply into this idea and if you would like to read more stories that deal with this, just e-mail me and I will direct you to their stories. I would mention them here, but I have not asked for their permission : )