![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
Prompt 24: Snow
It was snowing when Findekano brought me down from Thangorodrim, although by then I was too weak to notice. Later, when I was stronger, he stood at my window watching the flakes fall, and he wept. I put my arm around him. "Why do you weep, meldonya?"
"Because I never wish to see snow again as long as I live," he replied. And he told me then, how his father had led the host of Nolofinwe to cross the Helcaraxe; the Grinding Ice that connected Valinor with Beleriand in the far north. They had crossed on foot, because they had no other means of transport, and many had been lost along the way. A hundred, including the wife of his brother Turukano, had died in one incident alone, when a bank of snow gave way and they plunged into a gully. When he spoke of Turukano, and the loss of Elenwe, his weeping intensified.
"Poor little Itarille," he sobbed. "She lost her mother and now she may die, or may lose her..." Findekano's voice shook, and he looked at me, his face as pale as the white sky outside. "...she may never walk again, Timo. Her feet, the frost got to her feet..." I held him while he wept, and I looked out the window at the falling snow, and cursed my father for having caused all of this, for had he not burned the ships at Losgar, Elenwe would still live, and her little daughter would be unharmed.
It was to be many, many years before Findekano could look upon snow again without trembling, without closing his eyes, without having to try to force himself to forget. Itarille survived, and the healers who worked on restoring the life to her frozen feet had such success that not only were her feet saved, but as she grew she was able to run and dance and skip as though nothing had ever happened. The only sign of her ordeal was that ever after, her feet remained white, and so she was called Celebrindal, Silver-foot.
Celebrindal danced under moonlight in the gardens of Hithlum, her silver feet skimming the snow, her face upturned to catch the falling flakes on her hair and her eyelashes and her tongue. She ran to where we were sitting and tugged our hands. "Come, uncle Findekano, uncle Nelyafinwe. Come and dance with me!" She looked up at the sky, her face as bright as the moon that shone in it. "Isn't it beautiful? It's snowing!"
Character: Maedhros
Fandom: Silmarillion
"Because I never wish to see snow again as long as I live," he replied. And he told me then, how his father had led the host of Nolofinwe to cross the Helcaraxe; the Grinding Ice that connected Valinor with Beleriand in the far north. They had crossed on foot, because they had no other means of transport, and many had been lost along the way. A hundred, including the wife of his brother Turukano, had died in one incident alone, when a bank of snow gave way and they plunged into a gully. When he spoke of Turukano, and the loss of Elenwe, his weeping intensified.
"Poor little Itarille," he sobbed. "She lost her mother and now she may die, or may lose her..." Findekano's voice shook, and he looked at me, his face as pale as the white sky outside. "...she may never walk again, Timo. Her feet, the frost got to her feet..." I held him while he wept, and I looked out the window at the falling snow, and cursed my father for having caused all of this, for had he not burned the ships at Losgar, Elenwe would still live, and her little daughter would be unharmed.
It was to be many, many years before Findekano could look upon snow again without trembling, without closing his eyes, without having to try to force himself to forget. Itarille survived, and the healers who worked on restoring the life to her frozen feet had such success that not only were her feet saved, but as she grew she was able to run and dance and skip as though nothing had ever happened. The only sign of her ordeal was that ever after, her feet remained white, and so she was called Celebrindal, Silver-foot.
Celebrindal danced under moonlight in the gardens of Hithlum, her silver feet skimming the snow, her face upturned to catch the falling flakes on her hair and her eyelashes and her tongue. She ran to where we were sitting and tugged our hands. "Come, uncle Findekano, uncle Nelyafinwe. Come and dance with me!" She looked up at the sky, her face as bright as the moon that shone in it. "Isn't it beautiful? It's snowing!"
Character: Maedhros
Fandom: Silmarillion