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The Snow of Caras Galadhon	By : kathmco Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 1851 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Title: The Snow of Caras Galadhon

Author: Emmess

Rating: R (NC17 in later chapters)

Summary: Haldir must confront the return of someone from his

past.

Genre: Romance, Haldir/OFC

Chapter Three

The Last Homely House was nothing like the Golden Wood of Lorien, Nee thought, sitting on the broad white steps of Elrond's House, looking out over the city. Here, the houses were all stone, not wood, and sat upon the ground like squat rocks rather that high in the trees. The only trees here were thin and scraggly-looking to her eyes, some pine and birch, but none of the majestic gold and silver mellyrn that had once been so familiar to her. There were some pretty gardens, but none as pretty, as far as Nee was concerned, as the Lady's gardens.
The Elves here were dark for the most part, sleek black hair and dark eyes, a sea of ebony. A few had golden hair nearly the color of the mellyrn leaves, but she had not seen any with silver tresses, other than her mother and father. She knew that she stuck out like a white rat among a pride of black cats, and felt more isolated that she ever had, even in Lorien. Part of her loneliness was the loss of the newfound friendships she had had with the Galadhrim, and she missed them all terribly…but she missed Haldir most of all.
Sighing, she fingered the small bow in her hands, her tiny fingers tracing the scrollwork carved into its sides. Intent on both her bow and her misery, she didn't hear the Elf approach, until he sat down next to her on the stair.
" Suilaid, pen neth."
Nee looked up from her bow, startled at the appearance of her visitor. Looking down at her was a dark-haired Elf, a gentle smile on his lips. She bit her lip and forced her eyes back down to the bow in her hands.
"That is a lovely bow…may I see it?" he asked, holding out his slender fingered hand.
Nodding, but still remaining silent, Nee placed her precious bow in his outstretched hand.
Gently, he examined the bow, commenting on its fine workmanship. Handing it back to her he asked, "This is a bow of the Galadhrim, is it not?"
"Aye. It was made for me by my friends, Rumil, Orophin, and…Haldir…" she told him, her voice cracking as she said her best friend's name. Unbidden, the tears she had held back since arriving in Imladris filled her eyes, sliding down her cheeks to drip onto the bow.
"Ahh…it is always difficult to leave behind friends. I know well the brothers of Lorien…they are fine warriors all. I am Erestor, Lord Elrond's Advisor. Am I correct in thinking that you are Nefredil?"
"Aye. Everyone at home called me Nee."
"Nee it shall be then. Nee, I know of someone who would be most interested to see your weapons. Would you care to walk with me to meet him?" Erestor asked, wiping her tears with the hem of his sleeve.
Slowly the elfling nodded, standing to take Erestor's hand.

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" Lólindir! What evil possesses you?" Glorfindel bellowed, striding quickly across the field to the spot where one of his recruits stood with a small, white-haired elfling who held a tiny wooden sword in her hand. Lólindir froze in place, his arms stretched out stiffly before him, his legs in mid-stride as his commander's voice reached his ears.

"Um…I am a balrog, Captain."
Glorfindel looked as though the vein that throbbed in the center of his forehead might actually burst. "A balrog? A BALROG?"

"Yes, Captain."
Glorfindel opened his mouth to speak again, but his eye caught sight of the youngster's eyes filling with tears as she turned to walk away. "Do you know nothing of balrogs? They do not walk stiff-legged like that! They are much more fluid in their movements. You walk as an elfling with full pants! Watch me…young one," Glorfindel continued, addressing Nee, "might you aid me in demonstrating the proper technique for my recruit?"
Turning back swiftly, a broad smile replacing her tears, Nee joyfully brought up her sword in a salute to the Captain of the Imladris Guards.
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"Erestor?" Elrond said, as he stood in his study looking out of one of high windows, the curtains blowing gently around him, at the open expanse of the Guard's Training Grounds.
"Yes, Lord Elrond?"
"What is Glorfindel doing?"
"Ahh…I believe he is dying, my Lord," Erestor dutifully answered, peering over Elrond's shoulder.
"Oh. Would you please see to it that he reincarnates himself in time for our briefing this afternoon?"
"Of course, my Lord."
Elrond, with an amused smile on his face, watched the trio far below for a while longer, as the small, white-haired warrior-in-training, watched by one of Elrond's higher ranking Guards, repeatedly struck blows upon the prone form of the Balrog…Slayer.
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"Aim just a bit higher, Nee…to your left a bit more…keep your arm straight…now, release!" Elrohir said, squatting behind the tiny archer as he instructed her in her technique. "Excellent! That would have been a bullseye for certain!"
"They juth keep bouncing off, Elrohir…they aren't tharp enough to thick!" Nee complained, watching her arrow bounce harmlessly off the target.
"I know, pen neth, but sharp arrows are much too dangerous. You might hurt yourself, and then Glorfindel will send me out on patrol into the wilderness until I am too old to find my way back!" Elrohir replied, stifling the grin that threatened to spread across his handsome face.
Elladan stood nearby, and nodded in agreement with his brother. "Tis true, little one…Glorfindel would not be pleased if we allowed you to injure yourself…perhaps next season, when you are older…"
Nee frowned, but continued to doggedly fire her dulled arrows at the target.
"Do not look now, but the Balrog approaches…" Elladan whispered to his brother and Nee.
Looking over her shoulder, Nee grinned a broad smile, showing the gap where her two front teeth should be. "Glorfindel! I made three bull theyeth today!"

"Three! Perhaps I should have you instruct my new recruits, Nee…they might learn much from you," Glorfindel replied, smiling down at his snowy haired protégé.
"I am going to be the beth archer in Imladrith!" she said proudly, turning to once again fire her dulled arrow at the target. The three elves behind her exchanged bemused smiles at the young elleth's determination.
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"Elladan! I cannot seem to fletch these arrows correctly! Look…they will never fly straight!" Nee complained, holding up the offending arrow.
"Nee, they are fine! You seek to make each quill in each feather set perfectly, and that is nigh impossible! Yrch do not care whether each feather lies perfectly straight on the arrow…they care only that the arrow pierces their hide!" Elladan laughed, taking the arrow from the elleth and examining it. "This is fine…it will fly straight."
"It is not fine. I will not allow any of my friends to risk themselves because one of the arrows I fletched was imperfect!" Nee stated, pushing her long, white hair out her eyes for what seemed to be the hundredth time that morning. She was sorely tempted to cut it off…braids or not, her hair still got in her way when she did close work, like fletching.
Elladan put the arrow down on the table, and picked up a length of Nee's hair, quickly braiding it. "If you took as much care with your hair braids as you do with your arrows, you would not find it always in your eyes."
"I hate my hair. It escapes the braids, no matter how tightly I bind them."
"Do you remember the time you sought to dye it?" Elladan asked, laughing as he held up a length of her snowy tresses.
She had to smile, although the story still made her blush. "Aye. How was I to know that the dye from the berries would turn it purple…they looked black to me! I wanted hair like yours and Elrohir's…"
"I still do not understand why, Nee…your hair is lovely. And it smells like lilacs…" he said, bending to take a better whiff.
"Kindly remove your nose from my scalp, Elladan," Nee said, pulling her head away from the young Imladris Lord.
"Where shall I put it then? Ah, I know…" he replied, bending to nuzzle her neck.
"Elladan, stop…now is not the time nor place for such nonsense…I've arrows to fletch!" Nee laughed, pushing him away.
"Tonight then, after dinner…we can stroll through the gardens…"
"I will not stroll anywhere alone with you, Elladan…the last time I did you tried to…well, you know what you tried to do."
"Aye, and received three broken ribs for my trouble!" he laughed, wincing at the memory. "Methinks letting you train along side the Guards was not the most well-thought decision Glorfindel has ever made."
"You are just jealous because you can no longer best me!"
"I can best you any day I please…it just has not pleased me to do so lately."
"You haven't been able to best her for the last fifty years, Elladan," a deep voice rumbled from the doorway. Turning, Nee smiled at Glorfindel as he entered the room. Elladan quickly snapped to attention as his commanding officer approached them. "Elladan, your father wishes to speak with you. We are expecting visitors soon."
"Aye, Glorfindel," Elladan replied. Turning to Nee, he asked, "…after dinner?"
"Leave her be, Elladan. Go to your Adar, time grows short."
"Aye, Glorfindel," he answered, casting one more look at the fair haired elleth whose attention had returned to her arrows. He left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
"Who comes, Glorfindel?" she asked, as she ripped the offending feathers from the arrow and began to glue new ones in their place.
"Many come, Nee…'tis trouble as we have not seen it in many centuries. Emissaries from Men, Elves, and Dwarves have been summoned…"
Nee suddenly froze at the table, her hands trembling as her eyes clouded. Glorfindel, recognizing the signs, squatted down next to her chair. "What do you see, Nefredil?" he asked in a soft voice.
"Nine will leave. A ring is the root of much sorrow. A mountain of fire. Nine will leave."
Her visions had started with the onset of her puberty, serving to further set her apart from Elflings her age. They whispered 'witch' behind her back, and Glorfindel had thanked Eru many times for the foresight he had had to allow her to forge closer friendships with members of the Guard, or the poor thing would have had none. He allowed her to train beside them, even though many felt such training was wasted on an elleth, who would not see battle. Privately, although he would never admit to anyone, he thought her battle-ready.
She blinked, looked at Glorfindel worriedly. "What does it mean, Glorfindel?"
"I know not, Nee…time will scatter the shadows, and reveal all."

TBC…

Translations:

Suilaid…Greetings

Pen neth…young one
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The Snow of Caras Galadhon