Yule: 2010

[Valandil]

Northern Mirkwood, the month called Girithron in Sindarin, Ringarë in the Quenya, and Yulemath in the Shire. The year was 2010, but King Valandil was not sure what Age it was. In fact, folk from all times in Middle Earth and Beleriand were expected.

He sure hoped his descendant Celepharn would come with some bacon from the Black Boar.

A light snow for this far north (no more than half a ranga) covered the ground, and lay on the evergreen trees. The clouds spoke of more snow to come.

His royal entourage from Annuminas was clearly the first group to arrive. A pity - for a King to be the first one present, and to not arrive fashionably late. Such are the trevails of traveling great distances and across all timelines.

But the Wood Elves had clearly come already - happy to serve as hosts. A large bonfire was lighted in the clearing, and torches were placed on the trunks of surrounding trees - although the sun had not quite yet set (as short as these daylight hours were). Snug little booths were set up, for guests to escape the cold, or to settle in for some sleep when they wished.

He and his attendants gathered first around the fire - noticing to their surprise that when they has seated themselves and begun to warm their hands - the presence of trays sitting beside them, filled with hot drinks.

"The Yule..." thought Valandil. "Sometimes we let our expectations run away with us - but I sure hope this will be a pleasant time."

[The last sane person]

Called from out of a memory, a handsome young man once known as Raendil, now known by many as Sane, rode forth upon his equally ancient steed Volricom. He dimly knew the year, though not the age; as time had long since lost any meaning to him, and wondered what exactly was drawing him to this otherwise unsuspected glen in northern Mirkwood. Or was it now Greenwood the Great?

It did not matter. The man once known as Raendil looked about him, as his soft breath of himself and his horse visible in the snowy air.

"I dare say, Volir, I think we're close to Yule! I've since forgotten of it, I wonder why we've been urged forth after all this time?" The man wondered aloud, as his horse snorted and pawed at the snowy earth. Kicking up snow with his great hooves, Volricom charged further through the snow, plowing through it to come to an abrupt pause as they caught sight of a certain royal personage. Raendil's mouth curved into a grin, and then into a smile as he recognized his long sundered liege lord.

[Tessar]

Somewhere in the Forest...

Tessar appeared with a bang. Also the sound of snapping branches, the surprised twittering of slumbering birds, and the sound of a shrieking girl that must have come from someone else. A shower of freshly-disturbed snow tumbled out of the swaying tree through which he fell, half covering Tessar in its frozen embrace.

As he lay on the ground, contemplating the tiny dragons and elves running in a dizzying circle around his head, Tessar began to regret his decision to scout for newcomers "The Mortal Way," by climbing a tree instead of using his palantir. Decisions had been made, and poorly. But there was a tiny part of him that wanted to try again.

"Ho there, what manner of evil stalks the woods! I heard a woman scr--Oh, Tessar, it's just you," one of the Rangers appeared nearby, breath steaming in the chilly, clear air. "Did you fall out of the tree?"

"I... I didn't fall!" Tessar protested, struggling to rise and only succeeding in creating a mangled snow-maiar. "There was a nazgul! He attacked me! WITH LASER EYES!!!!"

The Ranger raised a skeptical eyebrow, and stroked his goatee. "If he had laser eyes why isn't anything scorched?"

Tessar stopped struggling long enough to consider the question before replying. "Because he hit me? I'm actually quite seriously wounded, you just can't see... I mean... I look a lot better than I feel."

Sighing, the Ranger assisted the struggling elf to his feet. "You're retarded."

"Don't say that word!" Tessar hissed dramatically, seizing the Ranger's arm and gazing about intently with a finger raised to his lips. "We do not speak that language here! It is... flaming! Baiting! Even the Treebeards have ears, and you will attract the attention of the Moderating team..."

The elf and the Ranger stood poised for flight, watching the forest for a time with every sense stretched to the maximum. Eventually, Tessar sighed in relief.

"No ban this time," the elf whispered, "but we must be cautious. The Moderators would not allow us to ruin their Festival season by being lame."

"Tessar," hissed the Ranger, "aren't you.... an Administrator?"

"And?"

"... doesn't that mean the Moderators can't do anything to you?"

"Oh.... yeah."

[The last sane person]

Somewhere in the forest, far ahead, (Raendil? Sane? Sanedil!) snorted; sensing a disturbance of the doofus variety in the Force. Er, World Song. WorldForceSong. Whatever. Turning to his liege lord, Sanedil grinned largely and nodded towards the woods.

"I think more company is forthcoming, Valandil! I think I heard a scream of the female variety. Ten coppers says it was an elf."

[Valandil]

But Valandil was distracted by sounds of singing from the woods in the other direction:

"Love shack, it's a little place where...
WE can get to-gether..."

Suddenly into view through the trees came four Elves; two men laden with firewood, and two females carrying bowls of fruit. One of the men leaned forward behind an Elf-lady who then jumped with a start and squealed. At that moment, the other Elf male caught sight of the guests and said,

"Uh... Charlie, they've started to arrive already." nodding significantly toward the bonfire.
"Oops... sorry, Melvin." acknowledged the other, changing his mischievous expression for one of incredible gravity - even as the Elf-ladies winked back at him and his partner and scuttled off to one of the little huts.

The Elf who had answered to 'Charlie' cleared his voice and addressed Valandil and Raendil. "Greetings, guests - and welcome to Mirkwood! I am... Carchlos, and this is my associate... Melvanor!"

Valandil turned back to Raendil with a smirk that plainly said, "Can you believe these guys?"

"Makes me think of the old days... at U of Southern Arnor" said Rae.

"Yeah," replied Valandil. "Hey... is Marty coming?"

[The last sane person]

At the mention of their compatriot Marthalion, Raendil laughed outright. "Seriously, Val, have you ever known him NOT to show when there are women to be wooed? Do you not remember U of Tharbad at all? Vala! What a mess that was." He sighed with a mixture of love and regret.

The young King gave a half grin, half grimace, and half thought about asking Rae to stop bringing up the days at Tharbad, "All too true! Where have you been by the way, it's been ages?"

Raendil shrugged, "Chasing after a woman, tangling with Rings, then being forgotten. You know, the stuff that usually happens to minor characters. I've not seen Marty in just as long though, I'll wager his story is just the sa-"

Thwap! Thwap!

The sound-and impact- of two sizable snowballs connecting with the two young lords was felt as much as heard, over which a rumbling laugh was heard. Striding up with extra snowballs in his arms arrived the tall, lean and laughing form of no other than Marthalion.

"Ever did you two need such loving gestures, my friends! You are far too solemn for your own good at times. So. Where are the women, and where is the wine?" The irascible young Numenorean lord asked.

[Earniel]

In the Elven village amongst the swampy reedbeds of Nïn-In-Eilph, all was very quiet. Most of the canals had frozen over and not many ventured out. In one of the houses at the water, sitting by the fire, Eärniel was going over her mail.

Several frogs that hadn't found a good hibernation spot, sat in water-filled bassins at her feet. In the corner a couple of swans, whose injuries had prevented them from migrating, dozed off. The sound of an otter-family snoring came from under the table.

"Bills, bills, bills," Eärniel sighed. "Advertising, junk, more advertising. Life insurance, really? Since when do Elves need life insurance? Silly marketeers..."

She tossed the ads in the fire.

"I'm bored." she complained.

"Well, there's always that party..." One of the other Elves said. The others immediately tried to hush him up.

Eärniel's ears perked up. "Party? What party?"

"The one in Mirkwood," the Elf said, oblivious to the others' attempts at shutting him up. "The Yule Festival. I hear the whole Age is going to be there! Galadriel's brought whole barrels of eggnog and they say the Lonely Mountain provided all the decorations."

"And why wasn't I invited?" Eärniel asked suspiciously.

"Well... " Another Elf said carefully. "There was the incident with Arwen and the-"
"That never happened!" Eärniel snapped.
"... and the time you-."
"He asked for it!"
"... and then..."
"Wasn't me!"

The Elves looked at eachother.

"I see." One of them said diplomatically.

"No you don't see," Eärniel said as she stood up. "No time to see, we've got packing to do! Secure all frogs in the baskets, load up the boats and don't forget your mittens. We're going to that Festival. Oh, and don't forget to wrap up that drink I bought from that Southron merchant. How was it called again? Ah, hot cocoa. Let's give Galadriel's eggnog some competition. Party! Wheee!"

[Midge]

Midge finished up giving her thank-you speech in a lesser hall of the Lonely Mountain and she looked around at all of the Dwarves she'd met with her classmates (who were also her cousins) Prisca and Wilbur Took. Their six-week internship to follow in Uncle Bilbo's footsteps had been extremely educational and Midge was so glad she was able to be part of the very first trip. The University of Hobbiton was trying to plan another, longer internship which followed in Frodo's footsteps, but it was taking a while to get the funds together in the terrible economy. Also Mordor still wasn't the safest of places to vacation, or so she'd heard.

The hobbits were on their last day in the Lonely Mountain, which was why they were giving thank-you speeches. After Midge finished hers, she stepped down from the lectern and was greeted mostly by several old wizened Dwarves who were on the Middle-Earth Board of Education with Mayor Gardener, the Thain, the Master of Brandy Hall, and also some representatives of the southern kingdoms and Elves whom she did not know.

As she got to the end of the rather long line, a hale Dwarf named Balir approached Prissy, Will and Midge and took them aside.

"I know you are preparing to return to Hobbiton, and I assume you are going to go through Greenwood since it has begun to be cleansed and the Elves are amiable. I wanted to suggest stopping to see something that will be well worth your time."

"What is it?" Prissy and Will asked at the same time. Midge rolled her eyes. Twins!

"It is what I can only call a party in celebration of the month you call Yulemath, though they may have another name for it when you arrive, should you choose to attend. Something commercial-ish, like "Yule Want to Party All Night!" or some such ridiculousness. The Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain only received their invitation today and really, Man and Elf parties (especially combined) are not to our liking for they never have enough beer. You are welcome to take our invitation to see the festivities. Also, they asked if we would provide the decorations - as if we don't have plenty to worry about already. However, we usually keep materialistic party decorations on hand, so we'll be sending a midsize convoy to them. Some of our younger Dwarves have not had the opportunity to tire of Elven merry-making and they will go." He raised his voice. "But the convoy will be taking someone ELSE'S cart and litter this year! Last time this happened, the party-planner took one look at my luxury Balcony and ..."

Midge knew without even looking that Prissy and Will would want to go. Ever since they were young, their Tookish streak had been especially strong. She turned to them and sighed, interrupting Balir. "I know. I'm outnumbered. I'll see if my party outfit got cleaned before we leave." She grinned as the two hobbits cheered and the elderly Dwarf smiled his approval.

The next morning, the three hobbits set out, following directions which were handwritten on the back of a small piece of paper, with an elven escort and the Dwarven convoy, for the Yule celebration.

[Midge]

After a few days of traveling and a small bit of searching, the hobbits finally arrived at the party. They were a bit early, but that didn't seem to be stopping the slew of elves that were already there and the occasional human or two.

Prissy and Will, for all their eagerness to come to the party, seemed almost frightened at the strange people they saw there. Midge, though she felt nearly as scared as the twins looked, walked confidently towards the Elves. No point in letting them smell my fear, she thought.

They all held goblets of no doubt strong drink. Midge had no desire to have any. She wondered whether this group would be a merry drunk group as she'd always been told that Elves were kind and gracious. However, this looked to be a raucous group. Perhaps with their inhibitions gone, they would feel very free to make fun of her and her cousins. Perhaps they shouldn't have come to this...

She turned and looked at her cousins, who were still shaking in their knickers. She marched forward and said loudly, "There's no height requirement for this party, is there? Are you planning on playing limbo?"

[Earniel]

"Not if you brought cookies or any other snack," Eärniel said who arrived just a little behind Midge.

She surveyed the party clearing. "Good, I'm not late. Hate to be late, there are never any good chocolate chip cookies left when one's late."

[Valandil]

After brushing off the remnants of the snowball, Valandil greeted his old friend. But all the while wondering how Marty happened to appear just then - just when they brought him up.

At that moment, three tall Elves burst from one of the huts, each laden with a full tray, "Chocolate chip cookies, anyone?" they called out. Another Elf emerged from a different hut, holding a pole in one hand and a boombox in the other, "Who's up for Limbo?" he asked with a grin. And then... at the other edge of the clearing... who should break through the trees with the carcass of a massive wild boar on a litter... but his long descendant Celepharn!

"Rae, Marty... there's something funny about this place. I'm going to have a talk with these Elves!"

- - - - - - -

Valandil marched over toward the shelter that he thought 'Carchlos' and 'Melvanor' had gone into - when those same Elves suddenly appeared before him.

"How may we be of assistance?" asked Melvanor.

"First of all," replied Valandil, "tell us what IS this place?"

"And who are YOU?" continued Raendil, "You're no Elves of Mirkwood... or Greenwood... that's for sure!"

"Yeah," went on Marty. "And... 'Carchlos'... are you Hispanic? Mexican?"

The Elves held up both hands. Melvanor began to speak, "Please gentlemen... so many questions all at once. True, we are NOT Elves of Mirkwood - at least not those under the rule of King Thranduil. No, we are Sant..., er, that is, we are the Elves of Father Yule! This place is our workshop, where we make preparations for the Season to come. And, I don't know... Carchlos, ARE you Mexican?"

"Si, senor Melvanor" answered Carchlos.

"But why... how, do all these things appear, just as we speak of them?" asked Valandil.

"Why, and how... that is not always for you to know," replied Melvanor with a smile. "But it is so. In fact - you need not say it - you can merely think it!"

"Uh-oh... be careful everyone!" exclaimed Valandil. "Watch all your thoughts closely!!"

"I for one - would like to see what's in these shelters!" said Raendil, pushing past the Elves and advancing on the door to the hut behind them. Valandil and Marthalion came along right behind.

- - - - - - -

Rae pushed open the door and the three stood in the doorway, with their eyes open wide. The inside of the hut was MUCH larger than could be guessed from the outside. The center of the room was sunken, with seating all around, and a hearth in the middle. To each side was a fireplace at the wall. But the greatest surprise of all - was to see the room filled with gorgeous Elven women, in rather risque dress of the holiday season. On low tables sat glasses of wine, and seasonal holiday treats. Above the door post, and at other scattered locations overhead, hung boughs of mistletoe. In a corner, minstrels strummed softly on harps, or played lightly on their flutes.

"Rae, did YOU think of this?" asked Valandil.

"Uh... sorry, it was me," interjected Marthalion sheepishly.

[Midge]

Midge and her cousins clapped joyfully when the tall elf emerged bearing the necessities for Limbo. They played the game all night before Yuletide and when they awoke the next morning, they found stockings big enough for a troll foot stuffed full of things.

"OH MY GOODNESS!" Prissy screamed, waking Midge and Will from their sugarplum dreams. She held what seemed to be a small piece of paper in her hands and was looking at it as if it weren't real. "There is a $500 gift card to the Amaranthe store in Hobbiton! I LOVE their clothes!"

"Whoaaaa..." Midge heard Will exclaim as he held up his prize from the overflowing bags at their feet. "The ultimate RPG of the century! Ohhhhh... Sauron Down! I can't wait to get home to get my Nintendo!"

Midge just chuckled as she reached into her stocking and pulled out an iPod touch. "Do we get wifi here?" An elf whisked in with a satellite controller and a router. "Here you go. The password's 'mirkwood'."

AWESOMEST YULE EVER, Midge thought as she looked at her new friends sharing in each others' joy.

[Valandil]

"So... have you boys been nice? Or naughty?" asked one of the Elf maids, with a wink in her eye.

"What's that sound outside?" exclaimed Valandil. "It sounds like hoofbeats in the snow."

"Uh-oh... Val... I was thinking about the times back at Tharbad, and..." said Raendil, haltingly.

"The Headmaster? And those other creepy folks who were hanging around?" replied Valandil.

"Uh... yeah!" answered Raendil.

They ran outside to see nine riders on black horses pull up before the bonfire, each one heavily cloaked all in black.

"What do YOU want here?" asked Valandil in challenge, advancing toward them, as he grasped the hilt of his sword, Ithilmegil.

"Why..." laughed the lead rider, "Only to join in the festive holiday cheer!"

"Really?" asked Marty.

"Well... no!" replied the rider, and he laughed again, and his eight companions laughed with him.

[Earniel]

Eärniel sampled the food and yule item stalls. There were quite a lot of them, more than she had thought could possibly fit in the clearing and so it took her most of the night. She was collecting presents for her friends back home for the New Year Celebration.

It was a human custom she had picked up. Elves usually only celebrated the New Yén, but Eärniel had quickly learned that this way she could get 144 times as much gifts out of it in the same time. Humans customs did have their uses.

But it also implied that while getting more presents the human way, she'd have to also give more presents. She didn't really mind. Picking out gifts was almost as fun as getting them. And Eärniel was having a great time.

By now her sled was filled with wrapped gifts and her purse was decidedly lighter. She decided to spend the last of her money on some snacks for herself. The smells wafting from the stalls were enticing.

"And what is this? Waffles you say? *crunch* They smell good... And what is this whipped cream you mentioned? *nomnomnom* Oooh, not bad. Not bad at all. In fact I think I'll have the whole can, thank you."

[Tessar]

Somewhere Closer to Home...

The Ranger and Tessar walked through the woods jovially, fearing no danger now that they had completed the unspecified task that Tessar had set. Something about watching for guests. Or getting firewood. Or something. Tessar was light on the details of his old idea, and no longer felt as attached to it. It was Yule, and the time for celebration and cheer had come!

Suddenly, Tessar halted, his head tilted at a curious angle.

"What's wrong with your hea--" the Ranger began to ask, before being furiously shushed by Tessar.

"HIST!" Tessar shushed. "I sense.... a presence I have not felt in some time."

"Obi Wan Kenobi?"

"Wrong genera, dingbat," Tessar snorted. "No.... something far more.......... sinister."

The Ranger shifted uncomfortably. "Sinister?"

"Well no, not really. Actually it's just Earniel and Valandil. They're here."

The Ranger shifted uncomfortably again. "Look, are you going to keep doing that with your head? It looks.... really uncomfortable."

"We don't have time for that!" Tessar gasped, "We must away! They're in terrible, terrible danger!"

With a cry, Tessar leaped forwards with all of his might, sinews straining to carry him at top speed towards his friends, and directly into possible danger. It took him a moment to realize that he was running in a circle.

"HO! What trickery is this?" Tessar exclaimed. "I am unable to reach my goal, though I run with all speed!"

"Straighten your head!" the Ranger replied, already some distance ahead.

"Oh," Tessar replied, somewhat deflated, and curiously not noticing the juxtaposition of his surprised cry, "Ho," and his sad exclamation, "Oh," which are the same letters but backwards. Also juxtaposed because the emotions were backwards. You see? You see what I did there?

You're welcome.

[Valandil]

While facing down the Lord of the Nazgul, Valandil couldn't help noticing out of the corner of his eye, that Arwen suddenly emerged from the woods over by Earniel, grabbed the 'whipped cream' cannister from her hands and pressed the end in a sideways fashion that sent mounds of whipped cream spewing into Earniel's face.

"There!" Arwen screamed elatedly, "I've been wanting to do that for a LONG time!"

At that moment, Tessar and some Ranger-dude crashed unexpectedly through the forest's edge right behind the cloaked horsemen.

Valandil closed his eyes and concentrated really hard.

"Oh man... he's gonna pop a squat!" said the horrified Ranger-dude.

"Not exactly!" replied Valandil, opening his eyes at that moment.

Suddenly there appeared in the hands of all those surrounding the Nazgul, a cannister of whipped cream - Tessar, the Ranger-dude, a few curious Elves, Keebler Elves from The Hollow Tree (and Elf-maids - who had followed them out of the hut) - as well as Marty, Raendil and Valandil.

Valandil held his toward the Witch-King, depressed the tip sideways and filled his face with whipped cream.

Marty took the hint first and did likewise to the Nazgul nearest him, "Take THAT Khamul... I've been wanting to do THAT for a long time!"

The party surrounding the Nazgul sprang into action, all indiscriminately squirting the whipped cream into the faces of both horse and rider.

[Rían]

RÃ*an shook the sleep out of her eyes and managed to catch herself after falling down fewer branches than usual. "What in the world is going on below?" she wondered, pulling pine needles out of her long, dark braids and peering down through the branches. It looked like - was that whipped cream?

Elves don't need to sleep every night like humans do, but RÃ*an had been travelling a long time and had decided to take some rest at the top of a snow-decked pine tree. As she settled in for the night, she wondered again if her friend Eärniel was going to show up, especially after that incident at the pond (well, it hadn't ever been really confirmed that Eärniel and the frog had been behind it all, but come on! who else would it have been? And the frog had been fine, really - only a few scratches and a small scorch mark). She hoped that her friend would come, along with the other people she had come across over the long ages after the fall of Gondolin.

She dropped nimbly down onto the ground a little distance from the whipped cream goings-on and crept up slowly through the bushes to watch. A can of whipping cream sailed across the glen and landed right next to her, and with a whoop, she grabbed it and joined the fray.

"All we need now are some nuts and cherries!" she thought gleefully, as she skipped around - who was that, King Valandil?! - and filled the Witch King's crown with the delicious whipping cream. "No," she amended, "we already have enough nuts! We just need the cherries!" To her amazement, a bunch of cherries materialized right in her hand! and without even wondering how they got there, she topped the whipped-cream-laden crown with a trio of bright red cherries.

Dodging the Witch King's futile attempt at retaliation (his can only sputtered a few little droplets) she wondered, "Now how did those cherries show up like that?" This could get really interesting ...

[The last sane person]

Raendil looked about nervously at his liege-lord and friend (and everyone else with the dastardly dairy product in hand) as they gleefully splorted the rather confused group of Nazgul, all of whom were assembled save one. He shrugged and then joined the fray, wishing to get back at his former black clad bretheren for quite some time, running up and vaulting behind what appeared to his senses to be the notoriously arse-y 5th and shoving the canister in the black gap where he assumed the nostrils would be and let rip.

The 5th's horse protested violently at having two riders, one of whom was fighting the other in a vain attempt to get whipped cream out of his nether-nose, and the other holding on like grim fate in a desperate gamble not to get thrown off. Raendil laughed as he had not in ages, then emptied his canister on the wraith and leapt (or rather, went with the fling) off of the rearing beast and slapped it's rump, sending it careening back into the forest with it's rider trying more to rid himself of the pastry filling than controlling the horse.

Looking around for another target, Raendil conjured up two canisters, and twirled them in his palms.

"YEAH! Dual wielding for the win! COME GET SOME!" came his thunderous roar.

At the other end of the circle of cream-combatants, Marty was having his own time with Khamul and his mount, having first squirted a large puff of the confection into the horses mouth. Something that rather seemed to placate the animal more than anything else, as it was currently ignoring the dueling group and stood happily slobbering and mouthing the glob of cream.

"Haha! Howdoyelikethempies, eh Khamul? Lord of Black my arse! Not even your horse is listening to ye!" Marty grinned as he unleashed fluffy hell on the ringwraith, whose horse refused to budge despite his urging, allowing Marty to dodge around the flailing lordling and squirt him like no tomorrow.

[Midge]

As Midge and her cousins enjoyed their Yuletide gifts, they suddenly heard shouts outside. Prissy squirmed a bit, but all three jumped up and ran to the door of their tent to look out at the clatter.

To their surprise, they saw several people whom they did not know fighting several creatures whom they thought to be no longer in existence. Hmm..., Midge thought. What can we do to assist in this situation? She felt no danger because the large group seemed to be handling it, but she had a strange desire to contribute to the fun.

All of a sudden, she knew.

"Prissy! Will! Climb those trees with the red leaves. I'm going up this pine here." Prissy and Will caught her idea before she said anything more and were up the trees in a flash.

As the terrors were striking hunger into the stomachs of all those below, Midge, Prissy and Will were shouting nonsense words as they added the ultimate topper to what every Yuletide whipped cream treat needs:

red and green sprinkles.

[Earniel]

Arwen eyed the cream-covered Eärniel suspiciously. So far no retaliation had been forthcoming, no cries of horrendous rage or no curses up until the fifth generation back and forth down the line. Only smacking noises as Eärniel wiped the whipped cream off her face and stuffed it in one movement into her mouth.

It was unnerving.

"Well?" asked Arwen, somewhat annoyed. She had a date with Aragorn later and didn't want to miss it. He had mentioned there would be mistletoe...

"One moment," Eärniel said between the eating noises. By now she had licked her face clean and was picking off the small specks of whipped cream off her dress.

"There! Now let me think." She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked thoughtful. This was probably more unnerving.

"Hmmm... Sorry, one more moment." She pulled a small booklet out of her pocket and started leafing through it industriously.

Arwen found she was tapping her foot impatiently. She had planned this for months, looking for the right moment and thought the execution had gone rather well. The climax of it all was deeply unsatisfying.

Eärniel snapped the book shut and shrugged appologetically. "Sorry, I've got nothin'. I'm all out of witty repartees."

"Oh." Arwen looked decidedly crestfallen.

"But if you'd like, you can empty the contents of that can of whipped cream in my face and we'll call it even." Eärniel said after a moment. It was Yule after all, and there were worse thing to get in one's face.

"Hmm..." Arwen looked undecided for a moment. "Oh, what the heck," she said with a shrug and did just that.

Sometimes one had to be satisfied with a status quo, and Aragorn was waiting.

"Yewwelcome," said Eärniel, happily wiping and eating the new load of whipped cream of her face. It was darn good whipped cream, this...