Estel Chel

Author's Note: This is one of two stories that were originally written for the Naked Yule challenge. It was to include: Legolas, Glorfindel and Aragorn, a naked elf, snow, a horse, a confession, and a real-world Christmas symbol or reference that could be adapted into a Middle-earth culture.

****

"Well?" Aragorn said, trying not to smirk and failing miserably.

Legolas stared at him with cool disdain while Glorfindel pretended to be interested in a nonexistent piece of lint on his deep blue velvet cloak which was lined with white-rabbit fur.

"It was your idea to begin with," Legolas finally said, sounding petulant.

Aragorn raised an eyebrow at his friend, beginning to suspect that the Prince of Ithilien-in-Edhil had been spending too much time around Mortals lately. No elf in his memory had ever sounded petulant.

"But you lost the bet," Aragorn said reasonably and had the pleasure of seeing the elf grimace, though his expression smoothed out almost at once into what Gimli was wont to call Legolas’ ‘elf-lord look’. Aragorn did his best not to laugh out loud, though the twinkle in his eyes reflecting the starlight above them, gave him away.

Legolas ignored his friend for the moment and turned to Glorfindel. "And you agreed to this?" he asked.

Glorfindel stopped picking at his velvet cloak to look up at the other two. His expression gave nothing away, neither yea nor nay. The memory of the Two Trees shone from his eyes and he stood there under the stars, a soft silvery light all about him, the gems of his warrior braids glittering coldly in the moonless winter night. He smiled slightly at the two children (as he thought of them).

"Asfaloth has agreed," he corrected the other elf mildly. "I merely stand as witness to this... venture." He had almost said ‘fiasco’ but had changed his mind at the last moment. Let the children play, he thought to himself. The Valar know they’ve had little chance for it lately.

The betrayal of one of the Gondorian lords high in Estel’s councils had shocked and saddened many and the subsequent events which followed had been harrowing for all involved, especially these two who stood beside him in the front courtyard of the King’s House. Glorfindel had welcomed the idea of Estel and Arwen finally coming North with their children for a time now that Annúminas had been rebuilt. He hoped being surrounded by the love of their brothers and the Periannath would help heal the emotional scars they all carried. No, this little jest would be good for them both... and for others, as well.

Legolas sighed. "I think I’ve been around Mortals too long," he muttered to himself though his two companions heard him.

Aragorn grimaced at hearing his own thoughts being echoed aloud by his friend, and Glorfindel’s mien went solemn. He placed a solicitous hand on the younger elf’s shoulder. "Child, wouldst thou wish it otherwise? Art thou not the richer for having known the Mortals around thee, whatsoever the pain it cost thee?"

Legolas, son of the King of Eryn Lasgalen, Prince of the Elves of Ithilien, looked deep into the eyes of the once Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, the Balrog Slayer, the only Reborn to return to Ennorath, and saw two lifetimes of sorrow and joy, of terrors faced and pain accepted, of wisdom gained and peace of soul hard-won within those depths. There was the sense of ages uncounted behind that bright and merry gaze with which Glorfindel faced the world and Legolas felt... young, very young.

"Nay, hîr nîn," Legolas said formally. "I would not wish it otherwise, yet...."

Glorfindel nodded, aware of the conflict in the young ellon’s heart. "It is our special sorrow and joy," the Seneschal of Imladris said, "we who choose to have dealings with the Younger Children of Ilúvatar. Dost thou regret having known them as friends, and more than friends, penneth?"

Legolas shook his head. "Nay, I do not." He gave them both a wicked smile. "Though sometimes Gimli...."

Glorfindel and Aragorn laughed, both understanding what Legolas meant. The elven prince loved the dwarf-lord, but there were still times when they needed space between them, which was why Gimli was celebrating Yule with his kin in the dwarf-halls of Ered Luin, rather than here in Annúminas.

"Then you will do it, mellon nîn?" asked Aragorn, suddenly doubting the wisdom of what he and Glorfindel had planned.

Legolas gave Aragorn that smile that was reserved for him alone, and nodded. "Yes, I will do it, as I have pledged, little though I like the idea of...." He sighed and gave an elegant shrug.

Glorfindel took the younger elf into his embrace. "There are worse fates, child," he whispered into Legolas’ ear. "Remember this, penneth: no one can make you feel humiliated without your consent."

He pulled back and gave Legolas a brilliant smile born of long experience and hard-won acceptance of all that life offers, both the good and the bad. Legolas nodded, going suddenly shy before this ancient elf-lord. Aragorn then clapped a hand on Legolas’ shoulder.

"Then, I must leave you now," he said softly, "to prepare my own part in this."

The two elves nodded. "I will see this one does not fail in his resolve at the last minute," Glorfindel said with a laugh.

Aragorn gave his friend one more smile, bowed to the two elves with respect, then left to join his beloved Arwen and the rest of the court for the Yule ceremony that would be starting soon. Legolas and Glorfindel watched the King of Men leave, both looking fondly upon Isildur’s Heir. When Aragorn was out of sight, Glorfindel turned to Legolas.

"Come. We need to prepare you for your part," he said, softly whistling to Asfaloth to follow them.

As they walked along the colonnade of the front courtyard leading into the Great Hall of Annúminas, snow began to fall gently from an errant cloud, though the sky was otherwise clear and star-strewn. Legolas sighed. "I cannot believe I drank so much Dorwinion that I cannot remember the bet that I made or that I lost it." He gave Glorfindel a rueful look. "I still don’t know what the bet actually was about, only that I lost."

Glorfindel stopped, his expression gone inscrutable even to Legolas. "I think I need to confess something to you, Prince of Ithilien-in-Edhil."

Legolas went perfectly still. Indeed, had any Mortal, be he Dúnadan, Hobbit, or Dwarf, wandered by, they would have sworn up and down that they were looking upon three exquisitely carved statues wreathed in starlight and snowfall. Even Asfaloth, elf-trained horse that he was, stood unmoving, waiting on his beloved master’s smallest desire.

"What confession?" Legolas finally asked.

Glorfindel sighed and cast his eyes to the flagged courtyard, debating just how much to reveal to the ellon. Finally, he nodded to himself, coming to a decision. He raised his eyes, dark in the nearly lightless night. "There was no bet," he said softly.

For a moment Legolas wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. "No bet?"

"No, child," Glorfindel’s voice went even softer than before. "There was no bet."

"But..." Legolas paused, not sure how to take this news. "I was drunk..."

Glorfindel nodded, a smile wreathing his ancient-young face. "Oh yes, you certainly were. Do you remember the discussion we were having just before you passed out, though?"

Legolas closed his eyes, trying to remember. The Dorwinion had been flowing rather steadily three nights before to celebrate the birth of Aragorn and Arwen’s daughter, Gilraen. He remembered feeling a need to not care anymore. Too much heartache and the Sea Longing....

He opened his eyes, and shook his head. "I think we were discussing the upcoming Yule festivities and Aragorn was saying how sometimes he wished the ceremony could be less tedious." He paused, and his expression went distant. "I think I said something foolish..."

Glorfindel was tempted to agree with him, but forbore to embarrass the ellon any more than he needed to. "You said something about having someone ride naked into the Great Hall with a wreath of candles on their head and then you passed out."

Now Legolas emitted a slight groan and put his head in his hands. Then he looked up at the older elf, his expression wary. "You said there was no bet."

"Nay, there was not," Glorfindel said with a shake of his head. The gems of his warrior braids flashed with dark brilliance under the starlight. "It was when Estel and I were helping you into your bed that we conceived the jest, wondering how long it would take you to realize that it was but a jest." His mouth quirked slightly at the corners and his ancient eyes brightened with wry amusement. "Only you never did."

"I..."

"Aragorn was betting on the fact that your own sense of dignity and honor would forbid you from asking for the details about the bet and thus learn the truth," Glorfindel continued.

"And what were you betting on, hir nîn?" Legolas asked, his eyes narrowing.

Glorfindel smiled warmly and leaned over and took Legolas’ head between his hands and gently kissed him on the forehead. "I was betting that your love for Estel would hold true, best beloved," he whispered, "and that trust has not proved vain."

Legolas stood there for several moments, running what he could remember of that night through his mind, piecing things together from what Glorfindel had just revealed and suddenly saw the absurdity of it all: the nonexistent bet, his own reluctance to look foolish for not remembering, and the predicament in which he now found himself. And above it all was the heartfelt gratitude to the Valar that Gimli was not there to see his humiliation. He could just imagine what that hirsute annoyance on two legs would have said if he’d been there.

He looked at Glorfindel and the Balrog Slayer’s expression of mingled humor and regret tipped the balance and suddenly, to his utter horror, Legolas found himself laughing and then crying, crouching on the snow-covered courtyard with his arms around his knees and rocking himself. Glorfindel knelt beside him and took him into his embrace and held him through his tears.

"You are such an elfling, penneth," Glorfindel admonished. "Hush, now. You don’t have to do this. Estel will not think you a coward or esteem you any the less. No one will."

Legolas shook his head. "Nay, I gave my pledge. I will not back down." He forced himself to calmness, wiping the tears from his face on the sleeve of his tunic. Then he held out a hand and Glorfindel pulled him up. "Come, let us end this."

He began walking towards the mithril doors that led into the Great Hall where all were awaiting him. Before the doors they found a table upon which was a wreath of holly and ivy in which were set four thick candles. Ribbons in red and green were entwined in the wreath. Beside the wreath was a clay pot in which was the coal from Aragorn’s own hearth with which the Yule candles would be lit. A silver drinking bowl with a covered ewer stood to one side and a staff made of ash lay there as well. There was also a chair. Legolas undid the clasp of his cloak and laid it across the seat of the chair, then silently began to strip until he was completely naked.

Glorfindel had in the meantime lit the candles and poured the heady Yule wine into the bowl. When he turned around and saw that Legolas was now unbraiding his hair, he gasped slightly and his eyes went dark with a memory of an earlier time and place. He had to force himself not to flinch at the sight of this proud Sindarin prince removing the very symbol of his office and status in elven society. Truly Legolas meant to go completely naked before all the court of Annúminas.

The final braid was undone and then there was nothing left to do save to mount upon Asfaloth who looked upon the entire proceedings with equine equanimity. Glorfindel took the wreath and carefully reached up with it and Legolas just as carefully took it and placed it on his head, letting the satin ribbons flow free.

"Remember, child," Glorfindel said as he laid a hand on the prince’s knee. "No one can humiliate you without your consent."

Legolas looked down and nodded. Then Glorfindel went to the table and picked up the bowl. He handed it to Legolas before taking up the ash staff and, going to the doors, rapped upon them three times. Almost immediately the doors opened and with a single soft word to Asfaloth, horse and elf went forward while Glorfindel walked solemnly beside them.

The Great Hall was in darkness, for it would be from the candles on his head that all other lights would be taken. As Legolas rode slowly up the nave, people with wicks on long poles would light them from the candles and then pass the flame to the people holding their own tapers. It would be in this wise that the Hall would be lit.

All the while as he and Glorfindel paced the Hall, Legolas kept his gaze resolutely before him, staring at a spot just past Asfaloth’s nose, refusing to acknowledge the presence of the court. Somewhere a small drum and a lute were playing the traditional Yule tune. Then, Legolas began to sing verses that had become traditional these last sixteen years of the United Realm, his voice clear and strong, ethereal in all its elvish tonality. He sang the first verse in Sindarin as well as the chorus, then switched to Westron. When he came to the chorus again, all in the Hall joined him.

"Sí na cherth hen minui heriatham,

An hogad i nest-en-Aran be chaew nîn.

Hi nan Chîr sogatham nest vaer în

Gerim estel guinatha nam mronweg a galu Belain.

          As sen nonesteb lîn,

          A sen nonesteb mîn,

          A le gell a gelir nonesteb.

So here is to Elessar and Arwen and all their household,

May Elbereth send our King much silver and gold,

May she grant us peace and joy in all that we see,

With this wassailing bowl, we’ll drink to thee.

          As sen nonesteb lîn,

          A sen nonesteb mîn,

          A le gell a gelir nonesteb.

And here is to Manwë and his eagles on high,

Pray Elbereth send our King wisdom and a good eye

For seeing the true, and the love that can be,

With this wassailing bowl, we’ll drink to thee.

          As sen nonesteb lîn,

          A sen nonesteb mîn,

          A le gell a gelir nonesteb.

And here is to Ulmo and his broad horn,

May Elbereth send our King those who are forlorn

That he may comfort them with good cheer aplenty,

With this wassailing bowl, we’ll drink to thee.

          As sen nonesteb lîn,

          A sen nonesteb mîn,

          A le gell a gelir nonesteb.

And here is to Béma and his horn of beer

Pray Elbereth send our King a happy New Year,

And a happy New Year as e'er he did see

With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee.

          As sen nonesteb lîn,

          A sen nonesteb mîn,

          A le gell a gelir nonesteb.

And here is to Tulkas and to his bold tales

May Elbereth send our King he never may fail

To win our hearts and souls. I pray you draw near

And our happy wassail it's then you shall hear.

          As sen nonesteb lîn,

          A sen nonesteb mîn,

          A le gell a gelir nonesteb.

And here is to Yavanna and her merry dance,

Pray Elbereth send our King this second chance

To order our lives in plenty and peace,

With the wassailing bowl, we’ll drink without cease.

          As sen nonesteb lîn,

          A sen nonesteb mîn,

          A le gell a gelir nonesteb.

Come, Faramir, bring us a bowl of the best,

And we pray that your soul in Mandos will rest.

Or if not, then may you at least fill our bowl

So we ne’er come dry when we reach our goal.

          As sen nonesteb lîn,

          A sen nonesteb mîn,

          A le gell a gelir nonesteb."

With the final chorus, the two elves and the horse reached the throne dais. Asfaloth stopped with a silent command from Glorfindel, then the elf took the bowl from Legolas’ hands so the other elf could dismount. Once on the ground, Legolas took the bowl back from Glorfindel who then moved off to one side after giving Asfaloth another command at which the horse gave a nod, then turned around to trot back out of the Hall. By this time the Hall was awash with light and for the first time Legolas noticed something odd.

Arwen was not there beside her husband and even more odd was the fact that Aragorn was not standing. Instead he remained seated on his throne and a long cloak covered him from throat to toe. He gave Aragorn a quizzical look but his friend merely smiled. Resisting a sigh, he advanced towards the throne, aware that every eye was upon him and seeing him in the light of their candles in all his naked glory. He had a fleeting urge to throw the bowl of wine in Aragorn’s face, but stopped himself in time. He had only himself to blame for this after all.

He took two steps forward and bowed. Straightening he held out the bowl from which the King would drink, symbolizing the acceptance of what the New Year would bring for all of his people. For a long moment Aragorn did not move and Legolas wondered how much longer he would be made to endure the prurient stares of these Mortals, when the King suddenly laughed and stood up, throwing the cloak aside to reveal his own nakedness. Then, there was laughter all around.

Legolas did a slow turn and now saw in the flickering candlelight that only males were ranged around him. Nowhere could he see any females, nor any children, and he thanked the Valar for being spared that particular humiliation, though he was at a loss as to the reason for their absence. He had fully expected to have to bare himself before all. He turned back to Aragorn who was now holding out his hands to accept the Yule bowl which Legolas in his befuddlement had completely forgotten he still held. Belatedly he handed the bowl to the King, but the traditional words had fled his mind and he could only stand there mutely.

Aragorn gave him a compassionate look. "No annathar 'alu ammen iMelain nedin dolel idhrinn," he intoned clearly before drinking, then passed the bowl to Faramir, who was standing next to him.

Then, and only then, did Glorfindel step forward and take Legolas into his embrace and hug him. "We decided not to humiliate you any further than necessary, mellon nîn," he said to the younger elf. "Arwen forbade any of the ladies of the court or the children to attend the ceremonies until after you were dressed."

Before Legolas could respond to Glorfindel’s words, though, the Seneschal of Imladris stepped back and gave them all a wicked grin. "However, I think that will have to wait a little while longer." Then he reached up, undid the cloak pin, and calmly let fall his cloak to the floor. Without taking his eyes off of the Sindarin prince, he began to undress. In minutes the Seneschal of Imladris stood as naked as Legolas and Aragorn. He smiled broadly and then he laughed and the sound of it was like a summer’s breeze wafting through green boughs and it was as if the Sun herself had risen. He began to twirl in an impromptu dance and his warrior braids sparkled in the candlelight.

As they watched the former Lord of the House of the Golden Flower dance in all his glory, Aragorn leaned closer to Legolas and whispered, "Happy Yule, mellon nîn."

Legolas looked upon his friend and smiled, his eyes bright with mischief. He reached up to remove the wreath from his head, handing it to Pippin, who was acting as Aragorn’s guard, before grabbing the king and pulling him into the dance with Glorfindel, who laughingly took their hands. The three of them danced wildly together as the rest of the men looked on. Pippin suddenly started to sing the song Legolas had sung into the Hall and soon all were joining in.

Thus, the New Year was ushered in with naked hope for a better year than the previous one through which many had suffered, not the least the three who continued to dance to the delight of all.

****

Estel Chel: Naked Hope/Trust.

Ithilien-in-Edhil: Ithilien of the Elves, to differentiate the elven colony from Faramir’s princedom.

Hîr nîn: My lord.

Ellon: Male elf.

Penneth: Young one.

Mellon nîn: My friend.

No annathar 'alu ammen iMelain nedin dolel idhrinn: "May the Valar give us blessings in the coming year".

Legolas’ Yule Song: This is based on several versions of the Wassail song, namely, the Cornish Wassail, the Gloucestershire Wassail, and the Somerset Wassail. The following is a literal translation of the Sindarin verses:

Here at this household first we will [suddenly] begin

For the purpose of drinking the King's health according to our custom.

Now unto the Lord we will drink his good health

We have hope he will live with steadfast faith and the blessings of the Powers.

          For this is your wassail,

          And this is our wassail,

          And joy be to you and a happy wassail!

Nonesteb: A reconstructed word, literally, "be healthful" [no: imperative of ná "to be" + nesteb: from the noun nest "health" (itself derived from the verb nesta- "heal") + -eb: adjectival suffix indicating something that is "full of", thus "full of health". Wassail is a corruption of waes hál "be healthy".