Winterlights by Elleth

Never, Never, Never

For prompt #7: Blizzard. Aredhel and Elenwë on the northward road, and a terrible premonition.

If the storm grows any worse, it will tear away the canvas Írissë and Elenwë crowd beneath, arms slid around each other and fingers locked desperate for some warmth, steaming breaths mingling in the blistering air. Elenwë buries her nose in Írissë’s hair, pressing cold lips to her cheek. Her teeth are chattering; she is taking this the harder – for all her strength of spirit she is the frailer of the two, and Írissë pulls her closer, the gates to Mandos swimming in her mind, yet locked. “Never, never, never,” she murmurs, but the storm’s wild howl swallows it.