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Life was happy, life was good, Elrond thought. Life was also tinged with a new cheer in the form of a hobbitish custom.
Bilbo had found his life satisfactory in every way since retiring in Imladris, though once in conversation he had expressed regret that he could no longer celebrate Christmas, a singularly hobbitish holiday.
Christmas shared many similarities to Yule; or so Elrond had discovered on further questioning, and promptly he sought to integrate some of the customs Bilbo was familiar with with ones commonly celebrated in the last Homely House. He had commissioned a pine tree to be placed in the Hall odd Fire and adorned suitably, and had contracted several craftsmen to construct and deliver small trinkets under the tree, to be opened by Bilbo on Christmas, small gestures that doubtless would bring happiness to the old hobbit.
Bilbo had been delighted when he saw the tree and had thanked Elrond many times over, until Elrond had secretly considered gagging the old fellow 'til his adulation ebbed.
"Oh, but this means I shall have to get you a present too!" Bilbo said, hands clasping together, his brows furrowing anxiously.
Elrond regarded him with a fond quirk of the lips. "That is unnecessary, Master Hobbit."
"But I must! What is something you want most?" Bilbo blurted before he could stop himself. The words were rote, having been asked thousands of times over in the Shire, mostly to hordes of children, and on occasion, Frodo.
Elrond smiled, something sad and small, and quite missed by Bilbo. "Unfortunately, nothing you could give, Master Hobbit." What Elrond wanted the most out everything in Arda, he was sure was now beyond his reach forever.
But Bilbo was not to be deterred. Hobbits were remarkably stubborn creatures, and Bilbo intended to get and give Elrond a present, despite hell or high water. If what Elrond wanted was something that Bilbo could not get, perhaps another elf could, or so Bilbo finely reasoned after having several drinks of the spiced egg, cream, and brandy mixture that Lord Elrond specially commissioned the cooks to make for him.
Which was how Bilbo found himself knocking on Glorfindel's door late at night. The door opened almost immediately, and bright eyes peered down at him. "Master Hobbit," the balrog-slayer greeted cordially, "What brings you here?"
"I seek aid in getting a Christmas present for Lord Elrond." Bilbo said, wondering if he would be laughed at. But Glorfindel only grinned, displaying perfect white teeth.
"Come in." he held the door open, and Bilbo stepped into the elf's chambers. "Yours is an unusual request, not many in Imladris have the cheek to give a gift to Lord Elrond."
"It's not cheek, it's simply Christmas spirit." Bilbo objected, casting a precursory look about the richly furnished room, perhaps wondering why it appeared to be slightly swaying.
"Ah, yes of, course. The famed Hobbitish generosity." Glorfindel shut the door and turned to swiftly pour out two glasses of wine from a decanter set on a nearby table, handing one to Bilbo. Bilbo accepted it - perhaps unwisely- taking a sip, rolling the sweet wine in his mouth.
"You must know that Elrond is not in need of anything, nor does he want for anything." Glorfindel said, perching on the table to sip his own wine.
Bilbo shrugged. "I know Lord Elrond has no want for most material things, but I was bold enough to ask him and he told me what he wanted was not something I could give him."
Glorfindel regarded him curiously. "Then why come to me?"
Bilbo let a few moments pass. "I hoped...what I could not give, an elf might."
Glorfindel smiled. "I would not dare presume to know what Elrond desires." Bilbo's face dimmed, but he was quick to hide it by taking a longer sip of his wine.
"But Erestor might." Glorfindel said, downing his wine and saluting the hobbit with the empty glass.
"No." Erestor said shortly, slotting a book into its place between to others. A goblet and decanter peeked from a shelf two paces down, looking rather forlorn and empty. "I do not know what Lord Elrond would want as a gift."
Glorfindel and Bilbo shared a look. "You must have some idea, you are his chief advisor." Bilbo pleaded. Erestor turned from the bookshelf to look at them both, his eyes darting between Glorfindel and Bilbo before appearing to come to some inward conclusion.
"Master Hobbit, I am sorry, but I am not privy to my Lord's innermost wants." Erestor said, fixing Glorfindel with a piercing look. "Now stop this foolishness Glorfindel, and leave the hobbit out of whatever schemes you are concocting."
"This was Bilbo's idea!" Glorfindel spluttered. Erestor raised his brows briefly, then made to move on. Glorfindel caught him around the waist with one strong arm as he attempted to skim by him, pulling him flush against his chest.
"Now, my dear, be reasonable. Bilbo only wishes to make a gift to Lord Elrond in honor of his beloved holiday. Surely, you cannot refuse him that?"
Erestor sighed, prying Glorfindel's arm off his waist. "Very well." he conceded.
"A map." Bilbo said in confusion, staring at the map Erestor had presented to him and Glorfindel. "Forgive me, but is this map a priceless artifact? One that Lord Elrond has been searching for?"
"No, it is not the map itself, but rather what the map leads to, that is Lord Elrond's desire."
"Ohhhh," went Bilbo and Glorfindel in unison. "So what is Lord's Elrond's desire then?"
Erestor briefly appeared to be contemplating murder. "This map leads to the dwelling of a person who has been hidden for many, many years. I was given this map by that person, with strict instructions that I would not seek him out, or allow anyone else to seek him out, unless Lord Elrond was on his deathbed."
"So, who is this person?" Bilbo asked, ignoring the last bit of Erestor's sentence. "You said the map leads to Lord Elrond's desire, so, does Lord Elrond desire this person?"
"Yes, he does, very much." Erestor said, evading Bilbo's first question, rolling the map back up with precise motions and thrusting it into Glorfindel's hands. "Glorfindel will go seek out this person and bring him to Imladris, and he will be your gift to our Lord Elrond."
Glorfindel set out secretly a few days later, carrying with him the map. Bilbo, who had thoroughly studied the map beforehand, knew that Glorfindel's journey would take him to the sea and back, though Bilbo was none the wiser to what personage Glorfindel was supposed to find there, a connoisseur of rare seashells, perhaps?
Bilbo spent Glorfindel's absence pestering Erestor for details of Elrond's 'gift', but Erestor remained steadfastly tight-lipped.
Glorfindel of course, had already won the knowledge from Erestor by means of several underhanded tricks in the bedroom, and since Bilbo had not the same capacity to do, the hobbit was doomed to suffer in curiosity.
Glorfindel returned the night before Christmas, and met Erestor and Bilbo at the empty stables. He was not alone, and carried before him on Asfaloth an unconscious figure.
"He put up quite a fight." Glorfindel said, dismounting with his limp burden. "I finally had to knock him out and drug him with the elixir you sent with me, love."
Bilbo shot Erestor a faintly scandalized glance, then hurried forward, stretching up on his toes to try and catch a glimpse of the figure's face, which was obscured by a dark hood. Erestor gave a long suffering sigh.
"I'll prepare the antidote, you two get him inside."
Glorfindel and Bilbo did as they were bid, stealthily entering Imladris carrying the dark clad figure, who they took to Bilbo's chambers. Erestor mixed his brew and rendezvoused with them there, where he promptly administered the antidote.
"He will be waking in a few hours time." Erestor said, setting aside the antidote's empty vial and looking down at the figure that lay atop Bilbo's bed. The hobbit, who had previously been indulging in the substance he had christened eggnog, nodded. "Then we haven't much time, it will be midnight soon, and then Christmas morning. We need to wrap him, and stuff him under the tree."
Erestor and Glorfindel shared amused looks over Bilbo's head.
"It is a good thing he is unawares, I do not believe any son of Feanor would willingly let himself be wrapped in tinsel and stuffed under a tree." Glorfindel said.
Bilbo's ears perked.
"Son of Feanor?" the hobbit squeaked, he had spent much time in Imladris's libraries, and knew what the name Feanor denoted. "This is...is this...?"
"Yes, this is Maglor Feanorian." Erestor said, brushing aside the figure's dark hood and revealing a face too lined and sorrowful to be called beautiful. "Last living descendant of the house of Feanor, the last living foster-parent of Elrond Peredhel."
Bilbo quickly backtracked. "We won't wrap him in tinsel, or put him under the tree."
Elrond carefully deposited the packages containing Bibo's gifts beneath the tree, tweaked a lopsided ornament, then left the Hall of Fire to journey back to his chambers, wanting to fetch himself a fresh robe before the festivities of the day started.
He had not seen the inside of his chambers in two days, and would likely not see them again for the duration after he had fetched his robe. It was Christmas day, and he must be present to act as a host to Bilbo, for whom the celebrations of the day were intended for.
Elrond entered his chambers, noting that the lanterns and chandelier had been lit, a strange thing, for the servants were meant to come later in the morning. Stripping off his outer robes, Elrond made his way into bedchamber to retrieve a new set, and stopped in shock as he stepped over the threshold.
A figure, swaddled in a cloak of black lay upon his bed, a small red bow perched atop the figure's head. The figure's face was turned towards him, although the eyes were closed in sleep, most uncommon for an elf.
Elrond knew that face. Knew the sleeping posture of the figure. How many times in his childhood had he seen Maglor like this, when he and Elros had come to his chamber to wake him on the start of a new day?
What in Arda was his foster-father doing here? Elrond had believed Maglor to be dead, or worse. A sudden maelstrom of confusion, sadness, anger, then joy welled inside of Elrond, and watching Maglor's eyes flutter open, Elrond did not know which to display first.
So, he settled for flinging himself bodily upon the bed, and by extension Maglor, a thing he had not done since he was an elfing in the care of Maglor and Maedhros; a bright, cheery cry leaving his lips.
"Wake up, Ada, it's Christmas!"