Yuletime Journeys: Our Annual Essay Contest.

[Lindariel]

It is finally the First of Yule, and here is the final installment of my story:


Although the Master Healer of Imladris had every confidence that Halmir would make a full recovery, nonetheless, it was a tense and watchful night for Elrond and his attendants in the infirmary. After sending his weary sons off to their rooms for a long, hot bath, a good supper, and a well-earned rest, he summoned Lord Glorfindel with orders to take several scouts to the Angle and bring back Halmir’s wife and son to be with him as he recovered.

For the next several hours, they carefully tended the injured Ranger as he tossed fitfully in his fevered sleep, washing him down with cool water and packing his swollen ankle in snow from time to time to help reduce the swelling. Lord Elrond also prepared and applied poultices to draw the infection out of the wound, as well as a special herbal decoction for purifying the blood, which he had mastered during his studies with the Avari healers during the War of Wrath and later on during his time in Lindon.

Throughout this process, Amarthalion, the Chief Bard of Imladris, along with a small chorus of singers from the Hall of Fire, supported the physicians in their efforts with powerful songs of healing and comfort for those in pain. At midnight, the great Bard, who had served Turgon in Gondolin, Idril and Eärendil in Sirion, Gil-Galad in Lindon, and now Lord Elrond in Imladris, raised his bright tenor to the heavens and led the chorus in his beautiful polyphonic setting of the Hymn to Elbereth. Lord Elrond and the other healers and attendants joined them in this familiar setting, sung nightly in the Hall of Fire to honor the Blessed Lady of the Stars.

As the glorious strains wafted through the air, Amarthalion joyfully immersed himself into the Far Plain, and above his raised hands coalesced the mystic apparition of the Vala Elbereth in her guise as Fanuilos, the intercessor. From the slopes of Mount Oiolossë she appeared, a radiant vision veiled in sparkling, snowy white, her arms raised to receive the supplications of the Children of Ilúvatar. About her shining figure, a glistening web appeared as the individual voices from his choir wove their intricate strands of melody in a bright cascade of visible sound. When the lovely hymn ended, the vision slowly faded, and Halmir groaned softly, lapsing into a peaceful sleep. The fever at last had broken.

After making Halmir as comfortable as possible, leaving instructions with his fellow healers, and thanking Amarthalion and his singers for their help, Elrond took the hobbit’s package and retired to his room for a hot bath and a few hours of much needed rest until his duties as Master of the Last Homely House would once again require his complete attention. Before dimming the lamps and taking to his bed, the great elf-lord studied the hobbit’s package and its many spots, scars, and stains with a touch of amusement and murmured, “If a brown paper wrapper could talk, I imagine you would have quite a tale to tell.”

*****

Several hours later, with the sun well above the horizon, the Master arose, feeling refreshed and ready to face the day. He dressed quickly and spent a few minutes conferring with Lord Erestor about the duties before them that morning, and then stopped briefly by the infirmary to check on Halmir’s progress. The man was still sleeping peacefully, and his wound appeared much improved. With a few quiet words to the infirmary attendants, Lord Elrond left the man in their excellent care and went in search of his morning meal and the package’s small recipient.

The dining hall was mostly empty when he arrived. His weary sons no doubt were still asleep, or had requested to have their morning meals in their rooms. But off in a corner window seat, the elf-lord spied a small barefoot figure, wrapped in a blanket, nose pressed against the window, peering out eagerly over the snow-covered landscape, with a mug of hot tea in his little hands and a plate of half-consumed, raspberry jam-besmeared scones beside him on the seat cushion.

With a fond smile, Lord Elrond quietly approached his enraptured target and whispered softly, “Good morning, little one. I have a surprise for you.”

The beloved face with its bright eyes and infectious grin, topped by a mop of curly hair, lit up at the sight of the elf-lord, and then the eyes goggled at the rather bedraggled package. “Good morning!” cried the small Master, offering the elf-lord an enthusiastic hug and causing Elrond to thank his lucky stars that the mug of tea was nearly empty. “Please, come sit with me! Isn’t it a beautiful morning?” gushed the charming creature. “Is that package really mine?”

“It most certainly is!” laughed Elrond, as he carefully moved the plate of scones and accepted a seat beside the little one. “Ranger Halmir brought it with him last night. It has had quite a long journey to get here from the Shire just in time for Yule.”

“Is he all right?” asked the small Master, his expressive face suddenly a mask of concern. “I heard from the attendants this morning that Elladan and Elrohir rescued him from a pack of wolves and that he was badly injured.”

Elrond embraced his tiny companion warmly and murmured, “He will be just fine, otherwise I would be at his side, and I would not be here to wish you a blessed Yule, my dear.”

The little fellow breathed a great sigh of relief and burst out, “Oh, I am so GLAD! Halmir is always so very nice to me whenever he comes here on patrol.” He then sipped down the last swallow of tea and set his mug aside in favor of turning the package over and over with his small hands. “Goodness! Look at all the stains on this wrapper. There’s a tear here, and that’s a burn!”

“Yes, indeed,” laughed Elrond, “And I do believe you have added your own smear of raspberry jam as well.”

“Ooops!” giggled the small Master, as he wiped his sticky hands and the package with a napkin. “Oh well, I’m going to be removing the wrapper now anyway. No harm done!”

And that’s how the package got its last stain on the First Day of Yule, bringing the total number of marks and stains to twelve – raspberry jam, wine, tea, mud, a tear, boot black, a scorch mark, grease, blood, salve, miruvor, and finally another smear of raspberry jam.

The little hands trembled with excitement, as the small Master cut through the twine, removed the valiant and dutiful brown paper wrapper, and unfolded the protective oil cloth to reveal the brightly wrapped Yule gift with its beautiful green brocade cloth and red and gold ribbons. “How lovely!” enthused Master Elrond. “You should save that wonderful cloth. Mistress Wilwarin and her ladies will surely be able to make something marvelous with it.”

“I certainly shall!” the small one replied while gently untying the ribbons and carefully unfolding the pretty green cloth. “Oh, look!” he exclaimed joyously, “It’s a book!”

Indeed, nestled within the brocade wrapping was a small, brand-new book, covered in fine, bright blue leather with the title and decorative scroll-work etched in silver leaf.

“And there’s a letter inside!” he shouted eagerly, as he drew forth a folded piece of creamy-white stationery, fairly quivering with anticipation to read the following message written in a familiar spidery hand:

The 20th of Foreyule
In the Year 1343 of the Shire Reckoning
And the Year 2943 of the Third Age

To my dearest young friend Estel,

Greetings and my best wishes to you and your kind and gentle mother Gilraen for a happy and blessed Yule! I have been thinking of you with great fondness ever since I returned home from my adventures in the Wild.

It has been a tumultuous year for me, to say the least, coming back after my long absence to find that I had been declared dead! Would you believe I actually walked in as my relatives were auctioning off my things in order to take possession of my smial? It took quite some time to convince them I really was back, and not an imposter, and most certainly NOT dead, and several months to acquire and even buy back my own belongings! It’s actually quite funny to look back on it now, but at the time, as you might imagine, it was a tremendous headache!

I cannot begin to express how very much I enjoyed getting to know you during my two visits to Lord Elrond’s wonderful Homely House and learning a bit about your people and their noble efforts to keep the North-lands safe. I was also much honored by the eager curiosity expressed by you and your little elven friend Lindariel to learn more about my beautiful home in the Shire and the ways and customs of hobbits. And so, as my gift to you for this Yule season, I have prepared the enclosed little book, Tales of the Shire, containing many of the stories about our folk that we tell our own children, so that we can maintain our ways and remember where we came from and how the Shire was established.

The beautiful illustrations you will find inside were painted for me by my talented young cousin Primula Brandybuck. She is still just a young tween, but I think you will agree that she has a remarkable gift!

I do hope you and Lindariel will enjoy these stories and cherish them in remembrance of our brief but wonderful time together. Perhaps, when you grow into the wonderful man I’m sure you will be, your own journeys might bring you one day to my beautiful country. If they do, please know that a warm welcome awaits you at Bag End.

With fondest regards, I am,
Your friend always,

Bilbo Baggins
The Baggins
Master of Bag End
Hobbiton
The Shire

THE END

[serinde]

Merry, absolutely lovely!

[serinde]

Lindariel, thank you for such a wonderful story. I did at the very beginning wonder if it was Bilbo sending a present to Estel, but over time I lost the thought. and such a wonderful present, children's tales from The Shire ~~ is this in your portfolio, also?

I'll have to find the other writings ....

Serinde ....

[Merry]

Lindariel, what a triumph! You kept us guessing until the very end and included such a wealth of detail, both from the Professor and your own creative work. Well done indeed! I enjoyed that.

[Lindariel]

Thanks so much, Merry and Serinde! So glad you enjoyed my magnum opus! It was a lot of fun to write, and quite a challenge to figure out how to compose that final day without completely giving away who the "small Master" was until the very end.

By the way, Merry, if you guessed that "Hal" was the young Halbarad, you would be correct. I debated leaving the son unnamed, but couldn't resist dropping in that little bit of a hint. Clearly, anyone who picked up on it would have to figure that the hobbit in question must be Bilbo, not Frodo, because Frodo would not even have been born when Halbarad was just a young man. Once the destination was revealed as Rivendell, then the recipient could easily be narrowed down to either Elrond or Estel. And finally, once the recipient was identified as the "small Master," it could only be Estel. But I hoped I could slip that little detail by a good number of readers and leave them wondering if the sender was Bilbo or Frodo, and the recipient Estel or Bilbo up to the very end. I thought mentioning that the small Master was barefoot in the final scene might help in that cause!

By the way, "The Brandybuck" is Rorimac "Old Rory" Brandybuck, Saradoc's father and Merry's grandfather. In 1343 of the Shire Reckoning, Saradoc would only be 3 years old. None of the beloved hobbits of LOTR have been born yet! The "Mr. Butterbur" in my tale is Barliman's grandfather.

Serinde, you can find all of my little Lindariel stories, which include a great deal of a very charming young Estel and details from one of Bilbo's two visits to Rivendell, in the Members' Art, Prose, and Poetry section, in the thread entitled Lindariel: Visions from the Hall of Fire. I haven't composed any of the Tales of the Shire, but that's actually a rather tempting idea. I just might see if I can give it a go!

Thanks again for all of your kind words! The greatest pleasure of writing a story is knowing that your readers enjoy it!

[marbretherese]

Wonderful story, Lindariel, many thanks! I think Tales from the Shire deserves your serious consideration

And Merry, your poem is so moving: worth waiting for!

to you both.

Is Meliel going to post her story? there's still time, I believe!

[Lindariel]

Meliel has become frustrated with her story. She doesn't have quite the single-minded focus we do on the Professor's tale, and when she brought her story to me, I pointed out some rather serious timeline inconsistencies she would need to deal with (Eowyn and Faramir did not marry until AFTER the War of the Ring, and they lived in Ithilien, not Rohan after their marriage, etc.). That plus the fact that school is back in session (she's a freshman in high school this year, and it has been a BIG transition for her), leaving her less time for creative writing, leads me to suspect that she will not make a submission this year. She may surprise me, but the last time we talked about the contest, she didn't think she'd have time to deal with the problems in her story before the deadline.

[Iolanthe]

I'll have to come back to read the last of your story tomorrow, Lindariel, when I have a bit more time!

Merry - you always say you are not a poet, but your poems are always very good! I think it's just as well we drag one out of you every year. It's very moving to share that moment before leaving, when Aragorn sits with his head bowed. The simple and fragmented phrases do it justice, they seem, well.... real!

[Lindariel]

I agree with you, Iolanthe, about Merry's poem. It is wonderful. You may recall that I chose that same moment for the poem I submitted for MeJ's first ever Yule Poetry Contest. It is a moment that stood out for me the very first time I read LOTR back in 1974, and the image it evokes, of Aragorn bowed under the enormity of what he is about to undertake, never fails to move me.

At this time, I would like to propose that we dispense with the rule stating that Moderators may contribute creative entries in response to the Yule challenge, but are ineligible for the contest itself. I don't see that being a Moderator confers any kind of undue advantage, and since we have such a small selection of entries, and since our Mods are also exceptionally talented and their work is just wonderful, I really think that Iolanthe's and Merry's poems should be included in the vote. In addition, I really hope Marbretherese will reconsider and allow us to include her marvelous poem in the contest as well.

Finally, I should point out that we did not have this rule for the first Yule contest -- and Iolanthe won with her wonderful "Christmas with the Balrog" poem.

Thoughts?

[Merry]

You make some convincing arguments, Lindariel! We'll talk about it in the 'back room' and get back to you.

Thanks for the encouraging words! I firmly believe that we should try to do things, even if we are not good at them. It was an interesting experience and puts me in touch with some of what you 'real' artists talk about: when I sat down to do this yesterday afternoon, all I knew was that I wanted the poem to be about that moment--and it all came out in finished form in about twenty minutes! No wonder people talk about Muses.

[Lindariel]

For anyone who might be curious, the Word document for my story (1 inch margins, single-spaced, Times Roman 11 pt type) came to just over 27 pages long, 16,458 words. This is, hands-down, the longest continuous story I've ever written! Thanks so much to Riv and the Mods here at MeJ for issuing the contest challenge that inspired this result. It would never have occurred to me to write such a tale otherwise!

[Iolanthe]

It was an interesting experience and puts me in touch with some of what you 'real' artists talk about: when I sat down to do this yesterday afternoon, all I knew was that I wanted the poem to be about that moment--and it all came out in finished form in about twenty minutes! No wonder people talk about Muses.

Now if that doesn't give you the creative bug, nothing will. Don't wait until next Christmas to give us another poem! And.... you are a real artist. Everyone's a real artist it's just that some people don't know it .

Lindariel, I've finally managed to catch up with the last of your story. It's been such a pleasure reading it, a real Christmas and post-Christmas treat. You deserve several rounds of for entertaining us so well. There are so many details that I loved, espcially the way that both the first and last stain were raspberry jam. I'm also relieved to know that Rivendell has hot tea. It just wouldn't be pefect without it. It's beautifully written and - as it's almost a book - I think it should go in its own thread beside your 'Lindariel' story in the Members Art, Prose and Poetry forum, once this competition is over.

We'll have a think about the whole Mod/competition entry thing. You do have several good points there.

Once the destination was revealed as Rivendell, then the recipient could easily be narrowed down to either Elrond or Estel. And finally, once the recipient was identified as the "small Master," it could only be Estel. But I hoped I could slip that little detail by a good number of readers and leave them wondering if the sender was Bilbo or Frodo, and the recipient Estel or Bilbo up to the very end. I thought mentioning that the small Master was barefoot in the final scene might help in that cause!

It had me fooled. I thought it was Bilbo and my delight at discovering it was Estel was HUGE .

[Lindariel]

Thanks so much for your kind comments, Iolanthe! When I first started writing the journey, I hadn't initially considered that it could very easily be a sort of side-bar to my stories about little Lindariel and little Estel. But once I decided to bring the sons of Elrond into the picture, I realized that it would fit quite nicely. I would welcome having it occupy its own thread alongside Lindariel: Visions from the Hall of Fire so folks could easily "revisit." I do have it saved as a Word document with each day marked as a subtitle, i.e., "The 20th of Foreyule," etc. Riv, if you set up the thread I'll be happy to drop the story into it in one-day installments.

I'm so glad to hear that I had you fooled about the recipient right to the end, Iolanthe! The only way to figure it out is to make the assumption that Halmir's son "Hal" is actually young Halbarad from LOTR. If you miss that tiny clue, then arguments can easily be made for the sender to be either Bilbo or Frodo (the only hobbits to have been named Elvellon "Elf-Friend" -- Bilbo by Thrandruil and Frodo by Gildor Inglorion). YAY! I have successfully written my first "mystery," as well as my own somewhat twisted take on the 12 Days of Christmas!

[Merry]

Greetings, all! The deadline for entry in the Yule Contest has come and gone, and we're still trying to decide how to conduct the voting. One of our moderators is having computer problems, so we're a little slow in deciding. Hang in there! We'll post a decision soon.

[Philipa]

The contest is indeed now open to MeJ's moderators. Though I'm not to sure how many of us have time to participate the contest is an ever moving event and now has no real deadline.