Rivendell. Noldor

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.

Gibberish; that was all it was. Braigion did not care what they said, and immediately walked up the stairs in the room where the two guards had brought him. It all started so well...and apparently it was true: he belonged no where; no one seemed to want him here anyway.

He never asked to be here.

That tall one...he was intrigued, and then took on that prideful look, and even called Braigion a 'deformed creature'. He held back...though the dark head held Gileryn in a way the Avar did not like at all. Already being peeved didn't help...

The day was full to say the least: wandering in an extremely hot hall, observing some of the people that were in there. I even saw a couple of ‘followers’. There are mortals even here? Strange…well, it did not surprise me too much. Not all of those strange people followed my kind around like wolves; some remained for a bit, and then vanished. They were their own people; they were not pets. I guess that seems to have changed, many ages later…