Main Characters: Aragorn, Arwen, Éowyn
Rating: PG
Pairings: Aragorn/Arwen, Aragorn/Éowyn
Genre: Humor
Length: Short Story
Summary: Three short stories that center on the delights, or lack thereof, of getting caught under the mistletoe
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I. A Ban on Mistletoe
If someone going along the hallway were to peek through the huge double doors leading into the ballroom, one would see a great number of couples: humans, elves, dwarfs swirling across the floor. Merry music danced about the room, making one unable to stay still. And tables lining the walls were weighed down with drink and food.
But the two children did not reach the doors. Instead, they halted, and both tipped their heads back, their eyes full of puzzled curiosity. For a long moment they stared at the unusual sight.
"It is a funny name."
"What, mistletoe?"
"Yes."
Éowyn raised one eyebrow as she studied the plant dangling high above her and Aragorn's heads. The seven-year-old tilted her head to one side. "It is a bit silly to hang it up like that," she mused, jumping and stretching her arm up, but she came nowhere close to touching it. "What do you suppose it's there for?"
Aragorn also attempted to touch the mistletoe; but despite being a little taller, the nine-year-old could not reach high enough when he leapt up. "Don't know," he sighed, staring up at it, his hands on his hips. "Maybe it has to do with it being almost Christmas." He took a step forward, almost bumping into Éowyn, and narrowed his eyes.
"OH, MY!"
The loud exclamation startled the two and quickly turned their attention away from the mistletoe. They discovered Arwen, standing before them, gaping at them with wide owl-like eyes. For a long silent moment, the three children stared at each other. Slowly Arwen's expression turned to one of annoyed expectation; she impatiently tapped one foot.
"Well, get on with it!" she said with a wave of her hand.
"With what? What are we to do?" Aragorn asked, puzzled.
Éowyn's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Arwen rolled her eyes. Surely they must know! "The mistletoe." She pointed upwards.
The others briefly glanced up at it, then back to her with blank expressions on their faces.
"You're standing under it," Arwen went on.
"Obviously!" Éowyn laughed.
"So, you have to kiss. It is tradition." She smiled mischievously, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
With a speed that surpassed the famous swiftness of the elves, Aragorn and Éowyn separated, trying unsuccessfully to put more distance between themselves by pressing against the hard stone walls. They looked at each other in horror and then gazed up at the innocent-looking plant with disgust.
"That is not very funny," Éowyn exclaimed, glaring at the howling elf-girl.
"I am not joking," she said in between laughs.
"What kind of tradition is that supposed to be?" demanded Aragorn hotly.
"Well, it has only been around for several hundred years. I believe it is to bring more romance to the season." Arwen fluttered her eyelashes at the boy.
"Kissing, that's disgusting!" Aragorn said, ignoring Arwen's look.
"I will not kiss him," Éowyn put in. "Do you realize how strange that would be? He's my friend!"
"Yeah, we can't do it because we're not adults and not... in love," Aragorn choked.
"Oh, stuff and nonsense," Arwen dismissed their objections.
Aragorn gave her a death glare. "You wouldn't like it if you were in one of our places. Admit it!" He glared at the mistletoe. "The first thing I'll do when I am king is put a ban on this tradition," he spat the words, "of kissing under mistletoe."
"You were under the mistletoe, and you must kiss." Arwen stated, ignoring Aragorn's comments and starting towards them.
Éowyn and Aragorn bolted, racing in opposite directions down the hallway, afraid for their lives – and of one certain she-elf.
II. Crazy Mistletoe Manufacturers
Aragorn saw a flash of gold as Éowyn disappeared around a row of tall bushes. Grinning, the fourteen-year-old raced along the other side of the bushes. He was faster and could cut her off at the end of the row.
The teenager was brought to an unexpected halt when his feet suddenly fell behind somehow and he started to fall. He hit the ground with his hands keeping the rest of his body up. He was puzzled to discover his feet seemingly stuck flat where they were, side by side. He could not move them an inch. With a grunt he pushed himself up, standing upright again and took in more of his unexplainable situation.
It was as though he was frozen in place; no matter how much he tried to move his feet to the side or lift them up, they would not budge. It was particularly strange since he could move about freely from the waist up.
He looked about and happened to glance up to see a shrubbery of pointy, green, leathery leaves, with waxy red berries. "What in Middle-earth... ?!" he trailed off, staring back and forth between the plant (which seemed to spot a wicked grin) and his immovable feet, which he tested yet again.
From nowhere, or maybe the mistletoe, a small piece of paper floated down into Aragorn's hand. Hoping to be given some answers, he read the short message: Welcome to the Enchanted Christmas Mistletoe. Enjoy your experience!
Aragorn blinked at the paper. That was it? The blankness of the other side confirmed that was indeed it. "A lot of help that is!" he grumbled.
"Is it timeout?" Legolas appeared at his elbow.
"Ahhh! I hate it when you do that to me."
"Sorry." The elf's eyes twinkled.
"No, it is not timeout. I'm stuck under the mistletoe," Aragorn explained.
"Whoa." Legolas backed away a few steps, his eyes wide as he took in the full scene.
"Hey, why didn't you get stuck?" Aragorn demanded.
Legolas shrugged. "Maybe it is picky."
Aragorn attempted once more to move his feet without success. Even when Legolas helped and nearly pulled off Aragorn's arms nothing happened. By now a crowd was gathering as word had spread that the tag game was unable to be continued.
"Looks like you really got yourself into a fix this time, mate," grunted Gimli, hiding his grin behind his hand.
The hobbits did nothing to mask their loud snickers. Figwit and Haldir shook their heads while Legolas unconsciously chewed his nails in an attempt to hide his growing amusement.
Our future king was getting more embarrassed with each passing second. He would never be able to live this down – he just knew it. Everyone except the girls appeared to be gathered. But then he did spot Éowyn.
She was standing off to the side of the crowd; her arms were folded in front of her chest, a bit of amusement in her eyes. When she met his gaze, her smile held some pity. Aragorn weakly returned her smile and then realized with surprise that her brother wasn't with her. On either side of her were Grima and Faramir, while Boromir stood behind her, over a head taller than she. Where is Éomer? Aragorn, a bit worried, wondered, not finding him among the faces in the crowd. She shouldn't just hang out with them by herself; she wasn't even thirteen yet!
"Oh, Aragorn!" a shrill voice rang out. "Are you hurt?" Arwen burst through the crowd and ran up to him. She grabbed his arms and pulled, only to discover, like Aragorn, her feet refused to move. "How strange," she murmured, looking down at her feet.
Aragorn also stared, gaping in growing horror. No, no, no, no, oh... NO!
Another paper drifted down at this moment, and Aragorn snatched it out of the air. This message was a bit lengthier.
Do not be alarmed about who you are stuck with under the Enchanted Christmas Mistletoe. This mistletoe is designed specifically to match you up with the one you most despise. (Surely you have heard many of the stories about how the two people who hate each other are the ones that always end up together!) Thus, this is the first step in resolving your differences and getting to your happily-ever-after. Kissy, kissy!
P.S. Please use reverse side to write your comments, questions, and suggestions.
Aragorn was full of stunned shock. He barely noticed when Arwen plucked the paper from his hand to read it herself. This was worse than anything he had ever experienced, even in a nightmare.
"Well, then," Arwen said cheerfully after reading the note. She turned her face up towards his.
"What, what are you doing?" he gasped, leaning back a bit, his eyes wide.
You could have heard a pin drop. Everyone was silent, staring at the two stuck under the mistletoe.
"What we're supposed to do, silly!"
"But I can't kiss you!" Aragorn shouted. "I... I..." He could not, would not confess he had never kissed a girl before. "You are old enough to be my great-great grandmother!"
"But you wouldn't think I'm four-hundred ninety-eight just judging by my appearance, would you?" Arwen purred, running her fingers through her thick, shiny black hair. "Your subjects would never know."
"My s-subjects?" Aragorn was terribly uncomfortable and confused.
"Yes, when I'm your queen – our happily after." Arwen waved the message in his face.
"No! It must be a mistake of some sort. You don't despise me; so it cannot work," he tried to reason.
"It is half true; so it must be good enough. Besides, this could cause you to have a crush on me," she said hopefully.
Aragorn had no chance to start forming an objection. In one swift moment Arwen wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing his head down, and kissed him, catching him off guard. His eyes widened to the size of saucers while hers closed. He heard the loud chorus of gasps from the crowd, followed by a few cat calls. Then out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a flash of gold surrounded by black and brown...
He pushed Arwen away forcibly and went sprawling backwards himself, landing on the ground. He gulped in some much needed air, his face a bright red hue.
He ignored the laughter and clapping that ripped through the crowd as people started to drift off. Aragorn was relieved that Arwen was dragged away by some of her friends. Glancing about, he met Legolas's smiling face and then continued to watch the others leave. His eyes lingered on a girl skipping off with three boys; the small group was laughing.
Where are big brothers when you need them?! he wondered. He narrowed his eyes at his elf friend, whose smile had widened to a knowing grin and who shook with silent mirth. With what dignity he had left, Aragorn got to his feet and cautiously approached the un-enchanted looking mistletoe. A third paper appeared. He wearily caught it.
Enchanted Christmas Mistletoe is a product of High Sanity Faldnag eht Yerg INC.
A crazy-eyed, wild grey figure doing rolls on a broomstick, issuing in a loud high pitched voice something between an excited shriek and wicked crackle, zoomed by the teenager at lightning speed, disappearing into the night.
Aragorn stared after the figure and then glanced down at the note. "Only someone who's had too much sugar would spell their name backwards. Crazy mistletoe manufacturers!" he muttered.
III. Come Round Full Circle
"Mistletoe is a curious thing, no?" Aragorn commented, glancing up at the plant hanging from a lantern.
Éowyn looked at him in surprise and nodded silently. She watched in mounting bemusement as he stood under it and raised his feet one at a time.
"It's not an Enchanted Christmas Mistletoe," he claimed with relief.
Éowyn giggled, not expecting him to say that.
"I've had several bad experiences with mistletoe. And you have either been a part of or at least witnessed some of them," Aragorn defended his behavior.
"Indeed," Éowyn agreed. "There was the time we nearly became innocent victims at such a tender age," she recalled with a chuckle.
"If I recall correctly, you were not very amused by the situation yourself at the time."
"Of course I wasn't. I didn't lavish the idea of kissing my best friend," she said, coloring.
"And then don't forget when me and Arwen..." Éowyn burst out into laughter. "A great friend you were," Aragorn raised his voice to be heard, "just contentedly watching me suffer public humiliation with Faramir and Boramir and Grima. And you were amused by my predicament."
"And several times you attempted to murder Gandalf, according to certain rumors," Éowyn said.
"If only he hadn't kept doing his disappearing act, I would have got him," Aragorn grumbled.
She only smiled.
"And now perhaps I've come full circle."
"Full circle?" Éowyn repeated.
"I was nearly forced to kiss you, and then Arwen was my first kiss. I think I deserve to have a pleasant experience under the mistletoe," he said, looking at her softly.
Éowyn lowered her head and gripped her dress tightly. Was he implying... ?
"Or have I somehow not been obvious about it?" Aragorn asked uncertainly.
"About what?" she whispered, unable to raise her gaze from the ground.
"That I like -- no, love you."
Éowyn's startled gaze met his. Half expecting to see jest in his eyes, she only found intensity. She swallowed hard. "You... well..."
"As a young boy, love would have been the last thing on my mind. And if someone at the time had told me I would fall in love with my best friend, I would have thought they were jesting. As a youth approaching manhood, it took me a long while to discover where feelings of friendship ended and of love began," he confessed with a slight shrug. "I've loved you for a long time, and I always will."
"Oh." Éowyn's face was flushed. "I think you were obvious, but I ignored the hints, for I doubted it could be true," she said quietly. With slow steady steps, she joined him under the mistletoe while he stared at her. Slowly their hands met and fingers laced together.
"Are you sure this is the way you want it?" she could not resist teasing him lightly, breaking the heavy silence.
"Éowyn," he said in a deep tone, and then his lips on hers in a gentle kiss drove all thoughts from her mind. They reluctantly parted when the need for air could not be ignored.
"Merry Christmas, Éowyn," Aragorn breathed, resting his forehead against hers.
"Merry Christmas." Éowyn pulled him into another kiss.