Hark! The sounds of jubilation. Of cheer and love and peace.

Across the lands of Middle-earth the joyful tidings ring: Merry Christmas!

*Merry stumbles through the door carrying a pile of presents* Did someone call my name? *staggers off without awaiting a reply*

As the end of the year approaches, realms and races prepare for the final rush until Christmas. (A Middle-earth Christmas? WHY NOT!)

In Hobbiton

Hobbits bustle to and fro, turning the Shire into a veritable anthill of busyness in preparation. Wood is chopped, fires blaze, pots simmer with the promise of a delicious fare for the grand day.

Gandalf can hardly move about as children flock around him, bursting to add last-minute items to the lists that in some cases stand taller than they do. His beard and jovial manner are his downfall. No one seems to notice the distinct absence of a belly that shakes like a bowl full of jelly.

According to rumors, the special day will consist of an extra handful of meals, much partying as only the Shire folk can pull off, and copious amounts of ale. When asked about such prospects, Pippin reportedly said, “It’ll be grand. Best day of the year. I can’t wait.”

Elf on a Shelf

An age-old holiday tradition, which the elves guard as though it’s an untainted forest pulsing with enchantment. As Christmas draws nigh, in the elven safehavens the best-looking of their race, as chosen by popular vote, take turns posing on natural tree-bough “shelves.”

The reason? Allow elven artists to create masterpieces—drawings, paintings, sculptures. The tradition celebrates the natural beauty and creativity of the elves. Each model is given a copy of the artistic piece that depicts them.

Often, the art pieces are displayed in prominent places as a mark of honor.

Important note: The elves are decidedly not interested in mass-producing enough toys for Middle-earth and have made such desires quite clear.

P. S. They do not advocate the wearing of pointy shoes or hats. In fact, they heartily denounce it as a practice of “uncultured vagrants.”

Elves: a noble, proud race, who decidedly do not approve of sitting on shelves… image via lotr.wikia.com

What would a Middle-earth Christmas be without a few songs?

A Wraith Lament (to the tune of We Three Kings)

We nine kings of Middle-earth are
Were deceived, our greed went too far,
Sauron snaring, now despairing,
Wraiths our lot is for e’er.

O rings of wonder, rings of might,
Sauron’s craftsmanship of spite,
Spread his power from his tower
On the lands bring ruin, night.

Nazgul king of Angmar am I,
Bringing terror when drawing nigh,
Sauron serving, most deserving
Seeing all with his eye.

O rings of wonder, rings of might,
Sauron’s craftsmanship of spite,
Spreads his power from his tower
On the lands bring ruin, night.

The ring I took, it is my bane,
Fealty I offer again,
Dark Lord ever, ceasing never
Middle-earth his domain.

O rings of wonder, rings of might,
Sauron’s craftsmanship of spite,
Spreads his power from his tower
On the lands bring ruin, night.

King I was, no fearer of doom
Now—my life a living tomb,
Servant, sighing, never dying,
Shrouded in cloak and gloom.

O rings of wonder, rings of might,
Sauron’s craftsmanship of spite,
Spreads his power from his tower
On the lands bring ruin, night.

Come, all lands, allegiance swear
Let the Dark Lord give you care
Death and ruin, death and ruin,
May be your lot—beware!

O rings of wonder, rings of might,
Sauron’s craftsmanship of spite,
Spreads his power from his tower
On the lands bring ruin, night.

Note: There is a discrepancy of wraiths to number of verses. According to scholars, this is due to the unimaginative and non-musical mindset of the other six wraiths.

Dwarves’ Feast Song (to the tune of Jingle Bells)

Tables are spread thick
With a feast to stir the heart
Let us all come now
And onto benches dart
Plates and tankards full
Making spirits bright
What joy it brings to eat and chomp
On roasted pork all night.

Oh, meat and ale, bread so pale
Do a soul right well
Every day and every night
Our thirst and hunger do they quell
Meat and ale, bread so pale
Do a soul right well
Every day and every night
Our thirst and hunger do they quell.

When mealtimes come ‘round
We celebrate our food,
With laughter and with cheer
We gorge ourselves right good,
Though stout and plump we are,
Our feasting never dies
Our stomachs growl and groan and howl,
Then feasting—let food fly!

Oh, meat and ale, bread so pale
Do a soul right well
Every day and every night
Our thirst and hunger do they quell
Meat and ale, bread so pale
Do a soul right well
Every day and every night
Our thirst and hunger do they quell.

What else would a Middle-earth Christmas include?

*This post was published in original form on zacharytotah.com in December 2016.