A/N: I'm taking some liberties here – I have no idea how the Elves would celebrate Yule.

The new wing of the Last Homely House looked as though it had always been there. It jutted out from the family apartments; its roof tiles glistened with rain in the wan early morning sunlight. Yule decorations hung from every beam inside, and in each of the windows, red candles burned in brass holders. A holly and ivy wreath studded with winter berries was fastened to the outside door.

Elrond and his wife Celebrían walked out of that door, and stood outside, admiring the building. A crowd of people of various ranks and stations in the household of Elrond gathered around them.

“It is beautiful!” declared Celebrían. “I am as proud of this as you ought to be.”

Elrond smiled. “This is very good,” he said. “I am most pleased with it.”

“The best thing about it is how seamlessly it fits with the rest of the house,” opined Erestor, who had followed his lord and lady outside. “A job well done.”

“Thank you,” Glorfindel replied. “Losgael, Maerdess, Buiowen and Brethilgwen deserve some praise as well, for each of them made invaluable contributions.”

A snort drew the attention of the lords of Rivendell.

“The builders and craftsmen deserve the bulk of our approbation,” said Glorfindel diplomatically, “since they did all of the labour, working very hard in weather that was often inclement.”

“Indeed they do,” said Celebrían, beaming broadly at them. “We must reward them well for this.”

The builders and craftsmen all smiled back as their lords and ladies greeted them individually, and gave them gifts from bags carried by the ladies-in-waiting and household maids. Gasps of pleasure punctuated the chattering of the crowd as the people involved in the building of the new wing received bottles of wine, fancy decorated cakes, small barrels of beer and items of festive clothing. A few received purses of money. Each of the gifts were of equal value, for barter reigned in Rivendell, and coins were seldom needed there.

Losgael took particular pleasure in giving out the gifts, for she had seen for herself the great efforts made by the workers as the building took shape. With a smile, she handed out the last bottle of wine, then returned to her mistress as Elrond moved back to the door.

“My friends, for that is what you are,” said the lord of Rivendell, “this new wing is a work of great beauty, and I am proud to declare it complete. Tonight, we will have a feast in the great hall to celebrate the end of your labours, and the beginning of Yule.”

A smattering of applause followed that comment, and the crowd dispersed.

Losgael followed her mistress back into the house.

In the sewing room, Celebrían sat with Losgael, repairing a tapestry from the great hall. “You seem unhappy, Losgael,” she remarked.

“I am,” Losgael replied, frowning in concentration as she worked to pull out a broken piece of thread that stuck out.

“Will you not tell me about it?” Celebrían persisted.

“It makes me unhappy to think of it, my lady, and discussing it requires thinking about it,” snapped Losgael. Aware that she had been rude to her lady, she blushed and moved away. “I am sorry, my lady, that was unforgivable.”

Celebrían reached out and put her delicate hand on Losgael's shoulder. “I forgive you anyway.”

“Ai, my lady, Glorfindel likes Maerdess!” Losgael blurted out. Tears stung her eyes and she tried not to cry.

Half of Losgael wanted to slap her own face for being so foolish, while the other half craved the comfort of her lady's affection. This was so hard! She knew what the right thing to do was, but she needed to feel that she was desirable and special to someone, and no matter how much Celebrían did for her, that need could not be filled by her lady. Only Glorfindel could reach that spot inside her and satisfy her desires.

“How is she responding to this?” asked Celebrían.

“Every time he asks her to walk with him she tells him good things about me or makes excuses not to go,” replied Losgael.

“Ah, Glorfindel values loyalty,” said Celebrían gravely. “I want to find a way to make him think that way about you. How can we do this?”

“What if she is the one he is meant to be with, my lady?” asked Losgael, her voice piteous. She wanted to believe it was all a foolish dream. Then she could put it behind her as a flight of fancy rather than a serious love affair. The trouble was, as long as some hope survived in her heart that there was a chance of ending up in his arms, she would be caught like a fly in a spider's web as far as her desire for him was concerned.

“Nothing is certain,” Celebrían retorted.

“You seem to want this for me more than I do,” said Losgael with a sniffle.

“I want you to be happy, Losgael,” Celebrían replied with passion. “Besides, I think you would benefit from having a lover.”

“My lady!” Losgael squealed, and blushed.

Celebrían laughed. “Oh Losgael, we shall think of something. I know! Come, let me whisper in your ear. I do not want anyone else to know about this,” she said, her voice low.

Losgael moved closer. The expression on her mistress's face said this scheme was certain to succeed.

TBC...