More Light by Grundy
Fanwork Notes
I'm slightly late, but I did not have the brain cells any sooner. Anyway, it occurred to me that Willow might want to celebrate the holidays in Middle-earth
- Fanwork Information
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Summary:
Erestor learns about a new holiday, and thinks on an early memory.
Major Characters: Erestor, Other Fictional Character(s)
Major Relationships:
Genre: Crossover
Challenges: Festival of Lights Fest, Jubilee
Rating: General
Warnings:
Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1, 127 Posted on 6 January 2025 Updated on 6 January 2025 This fanwork is a work in progress.
More Light
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Erestor hadn’t had much chance to get to know Anariel’s – he will not call any elven child Buffy no matter how attached she may be to her odd mother-name – mortal chosen siblings. Usually they are all to be found in a group.
But the twins whisked their little sister off to the tailor to have her measure taken for a new outfit they meant to present her for Yestarë. Tindomiel and Estel were still being tutored by Elrond. Tara and Anya were compounding something in the kitchens, an attempt at recreating a seasonal food from California made from late berries, and Xander had been commandeered as what they referred to as a guinea pig.
So it was that Willow sat alone in the library room the children had claimed, staring out the window somewhat forlornly.
“Am I intruding?” Erestor said, feeling it impolite not to break the silence.
The girl startled slightly, then made an attempt to look more cheerful.
“No, sir-”
“I know Elrond has explained I need no title from his family.”
“I… But.. I guess so.”
Erestor was not the most skilled in osanwë, but with a bit of concentration, he got the impression that this was a matter where the etiquette of California the girl had been brought up with clashed with what she was trying to accustom herself to here in Middle-earth.
“I grant you I am somewhat older even than Anariel’s brothers, but I assure you none of them would be so respectful as to call me sir at this late date,” he assured her drily.
In point of fact, he was older than Anariel’s father, but mentioning that was unlikely to help.
“Fine,” Willow said with a mock huff. “Erestor.”
“Better,” he nodded. “You were looking less than happy. May I be of some help?”
“No,” she said slowly. “At least, I don’t think so. I’m just missing California a little is all.”
“The weather?” Erestor offered cautiously.
Quellë had just ended, and while snow would not normally come to the valley so promptly, Elrond had discovered his youngest daughter had rarely seen it. With his encouragement, winter was having its way with Imladris earlier than usual. The valley wasn’t thickly blanketed yet – but Erestor had no doubt it soon would be.
“No, more missing the rhythm of the year there.”
“A particular festival?” Erestor asked shrewdly.
The children have mentioned holidays of California in passing, but never in detail. In truth, he was surprised none of them had complained sooner.
Willow nodded.
“I don’t know if it’s the right date for it, but it feels like the right time of year.”
“We could reckon when it should properly fall” he suggested. “I am aware the seasons do not line up exactly, but the calculation cannot be too difficult. Then you could hold your festival.”
Willow brightened for a moment, then her face fell again.
He did not fully understand her explanation of the alternate calendar in use in California that determined when the festival fell, but he did gather it was lunisolar. He still did not think the calculation beyond him – and probably not her, either.
“You might simply pick a time to celebrate,” he offered. “I leave it to you if you wish to do that rather than calculate the date or determine how that calendar relates to the reckoning of Rivendell. What is needed for the celebration?”
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Willow was surprised that Master Erestor was taking an interest in her – he usually stayed out of the library room they had appropriated. Though, in fairness, that might be more about avoiding Buffy. Dawn had gleefully shared the story of Buffy accidentally damaging manuscripts in Sunnydale…
She was even more surprised when he started asking questions about the holiday. She knew she’d missed Hanukkah once already – it would have been not quite a month after they’d left Sunnydale. There had been so much going on, so much new and different that she hadn’t realized until the seasons passed and what would have been the right season in Sunnydale came around.
She supposed Erestor had a point – she could pick a day and call it the right one. But it sounded like he’d help her figure out the relationship between the calendars if she preferred. If she’s calculating the calendars, she’ll also have to remember when to add leap months to keep the holidays in their proper seasons… (For a moment, she wondered what an elven sukkah would look like.)
But for now, it would be nice to have Hanukkah. It was a good time for a festival of lights. Winter was setting in, the nights were dark, and lighting candles and eating comfort food was just the thing.
“I’ll need a particular kind of candleholder,” she told him. “It has to hold nine candles. I could draw it, and then you could tell me which of the craftspeople to ask? And if I explain some of the traditional foods to the cooks, do you think they could make them? It’s nothing really fancy, and it wouldn’t have to be for everyone…”
But Tara definitely would, and Buffy usually joined in some nights. Xander always spent at least one night of the holiday with her. He had declared when they were little that it was only fair he get to play dreidel if she was going to watch the Snoopy Christmas special. (He only cared about the “gold” if it was chocolate, and they always split the pot no matter who actually won. He’d also listened to her father explain the holiday every year, and for the first few years the added explanation that it was not “Jewish Christmas”.)
“I believe the kitchens will make enough for any who care to sample – and many will wish to. Your holiday is new to all here. And I suspect Elrond will be happy to celebrate with you.”
Willow paused. She hadn’t expected to be hosting a big holiday.
“What does the festival commemorate?” Erestor asked.
At least that was an easy question.
“Light. Resilience. Miracles.”
Erestor smiled.
“Such a festival will be welcome here. I look forward to it.”
“You do?” she asked in surprise.
He hesitated.
“I’m sure Elrond has explained to you children by now that I was separated from my parents at a very young age. I do not even know who they were. But I do remember my mother lit candles in the darkest part of the year. There was light in every window. That I remember. It may not be the same as your festival, but I will enjoy seeing the lights all the same.”
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