Flame of Gondolin, novella: A Christmas Carol

Winter, 1 TA
Imladris

"Will you stop fidgeting already?"

Anárië’s exasperated voice was directed towards Akela, who had somehow managed to get himself caught in one of the rose bushes which grew in the winter under Elrond’s careful supervision, and she was currently trying to pluck out the remaining thorns from his fur.

Of course, the little wolf couldn’t sit still, and tried more than once to wiggle free of her grasp.

His owner, however, was having none of it.

Her grasp on the scruff of his neck was firm as she pushed him down, just as his mother would have done to ensure his obedience, and proceeded with her ministrations. Akela growled as though there would be no tomorrow, but it didn’t honestly help him.

"If you wouldn’t fight me so much, this would have already been over," she told him while she continued plucking as quickly as she could, understanding it was a nuisance.

The pup growled and tried to turn so that he could catch her wrist between his teeth.

Anárië applied more pressure and was satisfied when he rumbled something and then went still, the only indication of his current annoyance that of his slowly-swishing tail.

"Serves you right," the elleth admonished, "I told you not to go down into the hot garden, but you just had to explore, of course. At least your sister had enough sense not to fall head-first into the roses."

Alana was looking mighty pleased with herself where she was seated behind the wooden gate, her expression almost smug for a wolf pup while she licked her shoulder.

Anárië chuckled softly and then bent over Akela with the pincers again just to make certain she hadn’t missed any thorns; she had already worked over his paws and snout and ears, and his back seemed to be thorn-free. Now all she had to do was turn him over and finish with the tail, but she had a feeling it would be easier said than done.

As she had predicted, once she adjusted her grip Akela started fighting her again and snarling, trying to get free and at the same time understanding, in a way, that he would be in pain when he got to his corner again.

His mistress plonked him down unceremoniously, however, and simply continued with what she was doing.

The wolf pup snarled, his dignity ruined completely, while Anárië promptly inspected his stomach to see whether she had missed any wayward thorns, and then allowed him to roll himself upright again so that she could get a better grip on his tail.

That proved to be one lengthy kind of battle, however, because Akela was having none of it; eventually, after two nipped fingers and a cuff across his snout, however, the pup was subdued enough for the elleth to check over the bushy fur, and it was just as well, because it looked like a hedgehog had been nesting there.

"And you would want to impress the ladies this way," she admonished him, shaking her head and stroking along the length of his back as she spoke. Akela seemed to have given up on trying to escape, and simply whined a little.

The procedure was almost finished when Anárië heard steps coming along the hallway towards them, but she didn’t move, recognizing her husband’s step immediately, and also because both the pups seemed suddenly to be incredibly too happy for words, their tails wagging and tongues lolling out of whining mouths.

Glorfindel opened the door and slipped through, smiling at the picture of his wife grasping one of the cubs by its tail while she looked up to greet him.

"Akela got himself into mischief again?"

"More like getting himself into the rosebush," she responded with a small smile, shaking her head before she looked back down at what she was doing, only to frown as Glorfindel stepped across the room to take off his cloak.

"Your walk is wrong; what happened?"

Her husband seemed chagrined as he glanced in her direction, but he couldn’t hide the light sheen of perspiration on his forehead when he turned to finish what he was doing.

Anárië immediately let go of Akela (who made a dash for Glorfindel and then generally got in the way underfoot all around) and went to her husband’s side.

"Glorfindel?"

"It’s nothing," he sighed, but judging by the look on his face, she didn’t believe him.

"Do you honestly think I believe that?"

He chuckled, and sighed again, letting the cloak fall; Anárië pressed her lips together when she saw the torn sleeve on his left side. She was sure further inspection would prove that the body of the tunic was mauled as well.

"What happened?"

"It’s embarrassing," he admitted, reaching down to rub Akela’s head before seating himself with a wince, "and I don’t know if I want to talk about it."

Anárië gave him a dry look while she went around to his side and gently pulled the torn edges apart further to see the extent of the damage.

Glorfindel held his breath for a short moment while her fingers danced across his skin, closing his eyes.

"This looks aggravated," she commented, peering closer, "and like you brushed against something. Did you get slammed into a tree?"

"Close, but not quite."

She tore through the remainder of the sleeve and let it drop so that she could see his arm better. There was angry, red skin all along the outer arm, and it definitely looked like he had managed to have a meeting with some strong tree bark.

"What was it then?"

Glorfindel decided he might as well get it over with: "The path from the aviary down to the house has frozen over again tonight, and apparently there hasn’t been enough time to properly salt it yet."

Anárië groaned when she realized what she was looking at: "Valar, you slipped on the ice and fell."

"And while we’re at it, I also slid down a couple of steps," he added in an undertone, his voice dry.

His wife shook her head and took her hands away: "I’m going to get some water heated and clean this. It’s going to sting, but we’ll be able to apply that cooling salve Elrond made a while back after I’m finished."

Glorfindel didn’t move, realizing the futility of arguing with her, while she went to get what she needed.

"Is it just the arm?" she called from the bathing chamber.

"Judging by the amount of pain I would say it’s my whole left side, and I’m lucky I didn’t break anything," he commented in reply as she returned. Akela got in the way, and she sighed before promptly dumping him in with his sister.

Glorfindel’s amusement showed: "The men in your life aren’t giving you an easy time today, are we?"

"No," she replied tartly, before shaking her head as she knelt down to stoke the fire. Within moments, she had the bowl of water on and happily burbling away while she went in search of clean linen.

Glorfindel hissed when the first wet strip touched his skin, and Anárië winced.

"Maybe I had better get Elrond."

"I’d never hear the end of it!" her husband replied, turning his head to look at her, "The discomfort will pass. It is simply painful."

She bit her lip and nodded, before resuming her work and trying to be as fast as she could.

It didn’t go entirely smoothly, however.

"Sit still!"

Glorfindel grit his teeth together, forcing his muscles to lock into place so he wouldn’t accidentally move again, and Anárië was able to finish with his arm and move to his side. Luckily, however, it seemed like his arm and hip had taken the brunt of the fall.

"In all honesty, you really did get lucky," she commented while she applied the sticky paste to ensure the skin would cool down and heal faster.

Glorfindel sighed: "I know. I could have broken an arm at least. Or banged my head."

"That would have been unfortunate," she agreed, making him roll his eyes, but stay still while she wrapped his arm up, "I think your side should be alright without any bandage, it doesn’t look too bad."

Once she was finished, he stretched the offending limb to see whether or not he would be hindered by the wrap, but to his satisfaction, it responded well.

"Thank you."

Anárië tossed the water away and cleaned up after herself while her husband went in search of clean clothes. The two cubs whined in their enclosure, and she reached in to rub their soft heads, murmuring gently.

Glorfindel came back to see her cuddling with Alana in front of the fire.

"You’re going to spoil them both," he commented, smiling.

His wife lifted her eyes: "I’m fairly sure I spoil you too, but I never hear you complain."

She had him there; as short as their time together seemed to be between all their duties, she did try to help him with whatever he was doing whenever she could, if nothing else.

"You win."

Her smile was serene as she let Alana go to greet her proper master, who reached down only after tossing a wrapped package at his wife: "Day four."

Anárië caught the soft item and shook it, feeling a grin come to her face while she went for the wrapping: "If you choose to throw it like this, I’m guessing it isn’t alive anymore."

"No," Glorfindel laughed, shaking his head.

Once she was done unwrapping the package, Anárië smiled when she saw four pairs of gloves, two tougher, made of leather for everyday use, and two as soft as gossamer.

"I doubt I’ll ever wear these," she commented.

Glorfindel shrugged: "It is your gift."

He would have said more, but a knock to the door interrupted them, and they both looked up to see Berien’s head peek into the room: "I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a cranky Elf who slipped on his way to the aviary. Anná, I could use your help."

Exchanging an amused look with her husband, the elleth stood and nodded: "Let’s go see if we can make Lachuí drop his long face."

Berien chuckled and withdrew. Anárië gently touched Glorfindel’s cheek as she passed him, and leaned in to kiss his forehead when he turned his head.

"Thank you," she murmured, smiling.

He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers, then watched her go. Sighing, he turned to see two pairs of lupine eyes staring at him.

"What?"

Akela yawned, and Alana stretched lazily in his hold, but Glorfindel couldn’t shake the thought that they knew exactly how he was feeling.