Imladris, winter morning, present day

On the banks of river Narog, a group of elves stood guard around an entourage of Nargothrondim including princess Finduilas and Lord Celebrimbor. It was the princess' idea that they would take a breath of fresh air, away from the heat and smoke of the forge for him and away from court intrigue for her, away from any dark thoughts that the recent turmoil caused by the death of King Finrod might bring. Said group of elves from the city had spread towels, picnic baskets and were enjoying the chill of the water, some swimming, a couple fishing.

Aicasicil’s mansion, Forlindon, winter morning

Of recent I had cause to amend with a friend of old, and through the rigour of our reunion - tempers and joys which flared and cooled by the hour - we calmed one night in the course of our sojourn by deep-night candlelight, and shared tales - as we may here, now.

A heavy, cold, icy veil of dread covered the fair city of Ondolinde, the sky colored steel grey barely let any sunlight in, clouds black as storm loomed ominously near, yet no sound of thunder could be heard. Even the wind stopped blowing and the Echoriath looked like jagged teeth of steel. The only gust of wind the people of Ondolinde felt all day had been Thorondor, the King of the Eagles bearing the body of High King Nolofinwe to them. He deposited their late King on a mountaintop overlooking the city, telling the tale of his bravery and recklessness to Turukano.

II 

Carniquesse didn't like the city. She didn't like any city, not Nargothrond not the ones on the coast and not even the citadel-fortress of Dorthonion her homeland. Cities felt constricting for someone like her grown up in the vastness of mountain pine forests and while yes, she did call Nargothrond "home" what she really meant was the land surrounding it, not the system of caves themselves.