Frozen Heart by Kaylee Arafinwiel

Frozen

All words are Quenya.

Ammë - Mama, shortened form of Amillë "mother"

Atto - Papa, shortened form of Atar "father"

Perelda - Q. version of Sindarin "peredhel" "Half-elf". 

Read Frozen

“Ammë! Ammë!”

The sound of her little boy’s voice made Idril’s heart soar. She opened her eyes, smiling faintly to herself as the little golden-haired whirlwind flew through the bedroom door and landed with a thump on the centre of the bed, waking Tuor. “Well, yonya. You are awake early, I see.”

“Ammë, the windows! Come see the windows! Atto, come see!” Eärendil tugged Idril and Tuor’s hands persistently.

“A moment, my son. Let your ammë and I get up,” Tuor laughed, and Eärendil dutifully hopped off the bed, trotting to the door and waiting outside as his parents dressed. Soon, though, he was back to lead them down to the living room the royal family shared.

“See the windows, Atto, Ammë!” Eärendil said, running to peer at them. Tuor smiled as he joined his little son. “I see, my son. They were painted silver by Father Frost.”

Idril paled as she caught sight of the whiteness, a shiver passing through her. She hated winter – she always had. Only her beloved and her little perelda could make the season hold any joy for her. Snatching Eärendil to her breast, she buried her face in his hair.

“Ammë, see the frost,” Eärendil said impatiently. “It is so pretty.”

“I see, yonya,” she whispered, but her heart quailed. When she had been no older than Eärendil, the Ice had claimed her own ammë’s life. Never, yonya, never shall you suffer such a bleak  fate.

Never again could she truly love the winter.