Flame of Gondolin, novella: A Christmas Carol

Winter, 1 TA
Imladris

She wasn’t entirely sure why she had woken up, but she was certain it wasn’t because it was time to start whatever morning chores were waiting for her. Actually, Anárië couldn’t, at that very moment, recall any kind of pressing arrangement in need of her presence, but she did know she was awake. And something had caused her to leave the land of dreams, too.

Shifting slightly, in a hesitant manner since she was unsure whether or not her husband was still asleep or whether he had already left, she worked some feeling into her legs and stifled a yawn while poking her head out from under the covers.

The chamber was empty, save for the bed, which on closer inspection revealed a mountain of an Elf huddled under the furs, apparently still asleep.

Careful, trying not to wake him, Anárië sat up slowly, listening.

There were no actual sounds for her to make any sense out of, but considering the fact that she knew something had woken her, she supposed she would have to go and investigate at some point.

Blessing her own foresight for laying out the carpets the previous evening, she padded on bare feet into the bathing chamber where she wrapped herself in the first warm item of clothing she could find, before slipping out into the hallway.

Left and right there seemed to be nothing moving, but her instincts had rarely been wrong, which meant she was probably going to have to search a little bit longer.

Her slippered feet made no sound as she walked down the length of the inner hallway and passed out into one of the open ones, still in search.

The first thing she noticed was a bright, white light, which seemed intent on blinding her.

The elleth hissed and narrowed her field of vision so that she wouldn’t have to worry about any damage to her eyes. As she adjusted to the sight before her, she stifled a gasp.

They had received another snow-fall during the night, and the land looked like nothing would ever be familiar again.

The second thing she noticed when she finally moved again was Erestor’s rueful face.

"Did I wake you? I’m sorry. I was in a bit of a hurry and managed to slam my foot against a loose slab."

Anárië lifted her shoulders: "I’m not entirely sure what woke me, however, if you were cursing the way you normally do when you’re in pain, then it was probably you, but don’t worry. There is no harm done."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head: "Lucky me. But, if I may ask – did you skin a bear for this coat of yours?"

Glancing down at the warm outer garment, Anárië realized that it was Glorfindel’s winter coat she had taken, not her own, and it dwarfed her frame, dragging slightly. She probably looked more than a little comical.

"Actually, I think the unfortunate bear in question ran into Glorfindel at some point."

They both laughed at that; the cloak didn’t seem to be of bear fur, but its size certainly didn’t speak in its favour.

"He’s still asleep, I take it?" Erestor continued their conversation, "As any sensible Elf would be on a morning like this. The Sun hasn’t even risen yet."

"He was when I left," she confirmed, then shuddered despite the cloak and the fact that Elves were fairly good when dealing with the cold, "and I think I might go back and join him. Just looking out is making my limbs freeze."

"I’ll see you at breakfast," Erestor agreed, lifting a hand as he turned and walked away in the opposite direction, while Anárië retraced her steps quietly.

She needn’t have bothered; Glorfindel poked his head out from under the covers as soon as she was back in their bedchamber.

"At some point you’ll have to explain to me what I do overnight that makes you run off as soon as there’s any kind of light outside," he commented, his voice muffled, but the humour in it obvious, "Is that my cloak?"

"It was the first one I could find," she replied, shrugging it off and quickly climbing back into bed, sighing in content as she snuggled against her pillow.

"Something woke me and I went to investigate. Turns out Erestor is prowling the hallways but isn’t as careful as he should be. If he complains of a painful toe tell him he should watch where he’s going next time."

The bed shook with Glorfindel’s silent laugh: "The adventures you get yourself into while I sleep blissfully away."

Anárië rubbed a spot behind her ear: "I think you get the smarter and better part of this bargain, you know."

He chuckled, rolling over and lying on his back, his face relaxed and open.

But since they were both awake now, going back to bed didn’t seem like the smartest idea anymore.

Within a couple of moments, Glorfindel rose and stoked the fire a little bit, coaxing it to give more warmth. Anárië sat up and crossed her legs, watching him.

"Today is number two, right?" she asked him after he was finished, and he turned with a smile.

"Correct. But you’ll have to be patient with me. I have to fetch the gift."

"Gifts, you mean?" she corrected him, amused, which elicited another laugh.

"Gifts, yes. It shouldn’t take me too long, though. You can probably go back to sleep and I’ll wake you when I return."

The elleth watched him move around the room, gathering items he would need or something he wanted, wondering how it would have been had they been able to actually spend some time together as husband and wife before Gondolin fell. Had they been granted such, she probably wouldn’t have hesitated in reaching for him as he passed her.

As it happened, however, her hands stayed still, and she lowered her gaze.

A gentle finger under her chin forced her face up again.

Glorfindel was smiling.

"I would ask you what you were thinking just now, but I think I can guess."

His voice was gentle; Anárië felt heat infuse her cheeks slowly.

Her husband lightly caressed her cheek: "We have nothing to rush towards, Anárië; and all the time in the world, now. Think of this as a kind of courtship. ‘Tis a warped idea, I’ll grant you that, but I think it’s fairly apt, don’t you?"

He leaned in and kissed her nose before she could answer, and then he was gone with a swish of the heavy cloak, leaving her bewildered and flushed.

Men!

She did take his advice, however, and buried herself under the covers again to snatch some more sleep. It was slow in coming, but once she did catch it by the tail, she didn’t stir again until the door of the bedchamber closed.

Blinking like an owl, she lifted her head to see a smiling Glorfindel shaking off some snow from his broad shoulders.

"Is it snowing again?"

"It’s a blizzard," he informed her cheerfully, "which means I was lucky to get to these when I did. Otherwise, things might have been a bit different."

Eyeing him, trying to figure out what he was talking about, Anárië couldn’t see anything different, or close to resembling any kind of gift. Maybe that was a greedy thought, but her curiosity was certainly getting the better of her.

"What did you go out to get?" she asked, kicking away the covers and standing.

Glorfindel smiled a rather enigmatic smile, before shrugging his cloak open and reaching inside. There was a muffled sound she couldn’t make heads or tails of, and then two squirming, wet, yelping balls of fluff were deposited before the fire.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as they unrolled, wriggling and trying to find their footing, yipping and kicking out with their little paws.

"The mother was killed by an old elk," Glorfindel explained, draping his cloak over a chair to dry, "She had more, but only these two were alive when I found the den. They were a pitiful sight, but I’ve managed to fatten them up a little."

The two wolf pups managed to patch up their indignation and wounded pride at being transported as they had been, and were currently busily sniffing and licking each other out.

"They’re adorable," Anárië commented, lowering herself down beside them while Glorfindel sat on the chair. The two pups noticed her for the first time and sniffed, before tripping over each other to reach her. The elleth laughed, holding out her hands and allowing the two little ones to sniff and lick to their heart’s content, before letting them try and climb over her legs and into her lap in their exploration.

"They’re going to be an even bigger handful than the colt, though," she wondered out loud, looking up to her husband, who was watching the trio with a rather satisfied expression on his face.

"I doubt it. They accepted me readily enough; my guess is they’ll transfer their attentions to you gladly. After all, you’re a female, with a maternal instinct."

He had to duck fast as Anárië reached for one of the spare pillows and hurled it across at him.

The two pups decided they would want to join the fun, and happily yipped after the flying pillow, which ended in Glorfindel having to grab each of them by the scruff on their necks to stop them from tearing it apart.

"You were saying?" his wife commented, laughter obvious in her voice while he deposited their newest charges back in front of the fireplace.

"That I should listen to you more," Glorfindel replied, sending her a grin, "but in all effect, they’re yours."

Anárië looked at the two little things, happily pawing at each other now, and reached out to rub along their backs and bellies as they rolled.

"I can’t honestly have them both," she finally argued, shaking her head, "I appreciate the gesture, however. We should share; it’ll be easier, and I have a feeling they’ll turn out to be very good hunting companions."

"It is your gift, to do with as you wish," Glorfindel responded, "if you want this, then I’m glad; and I want the female."

Anárië laughed: "You planned this!"

Glorfindel tried looking innocent: "Maybe a little."

She rolled her eyes and nudged his shoulder, smiling as she looked down at the wolf pups.

"Did you think of their names too?"

He shook his head: "I thought I’d leave the honour to you."

She continued stroking their glossy pelts for a moment.

"Alana, for the girl; and Akela for the male."

Glorfindel smiled: "That sounds perfect."

The two pups christened the moment by attacking the carpet they were on.