Why...
Her hands were stiff and numb with coldness. Snowflakes swarmed the landscape like pesky insects. Boots pushing through the towering inches of snow, she shivered as she held the warm wine bottle in her hands.
Why... in tarnation...
... had she stayed in Eriador this winter?
That stupid elven ball was one thing. Her pesky family begging her to stay in Imladris for once was another reason. Desperately working her uncooperative hands to open the bottle of her glorious warm wine, she continued to march in the snow.
That pointless bet she made with Frimsi Gembeard, that dastardly dwarf! She was going even further north in a month or so for that bet! Why had she agreed to Thorin's Hall of all places! The Blue Mountains were freezing! By Manwe, she despised the cold!
She finally turned the corner, to the housing where her best friend was staying. She hated winters in Imladris. One would think the paths would be cleared! A blonde high elf turned to her with a gleeful look on her face. Her cheeks were rosy in the cold, but she did not seem to care. Wearing a cozy winter outfit, expertly woven in a fanciful design, she beamed. "Aurthiel!"
She darted forth, powdered snow kicking up around her. Nightmarish snow! "You came! You actually came! For once!"
Aurthiel paused, her pale hand still grasping the bottle she was unable to open. "Mythrenniel..."
Mythrenniel reached out and gently took the bottle. She popped it open and handed it back to her, "There is more inside, friend! Come on in!"
That... gentle care. Mythrenniel always had been this way. Always. She reached and grasped lightly at the black scarf around her neck.
Helcaraxe. The grinding ice. Blistering cold weather. With nothing but a thin summer dress, young Aurthiel's feet bled as she suffered through a frozen over hell. The teenaged Noldo closed her eyes, this bitterness was colder than death. Freezing, she paused when she felt a fabric, a warm fabric, wrap around her neck. She opened her eyes, eyes locking on a young hiril only a little bit older than her. She smiled softly, apologetic as she spoke, "You look cold. I am sorry, I need to sew more on our breaks to give you more..."
Aurthiel looked down at the hastily woven black scarf wrapped around her neck. It was... warm... This person... she was... warm...
She pulled the scarf over her nose, "It's fine..."
Now, thousands of years later, here they stood again in a snowy landscape. Far less hostile, yet still a reminder of crossing that Vala forsaken glacier. But she pulled her black scarf up to her face, and she saw the reminder of something softer, something warmer, before her.
Perhaps... she just realized why she wanted to stay this year after all.
She still hated winter though.
