Jubilant Potluck by Grundy

Snow over my heart

Prompt from Anna (IdleLeaves): A thousand feet of snow over my heart. 

“It won’t be like this forever.”

Gildor’s eyes, when they met Círdan’s, were red-rimmed, full to the brim with both fury and grief.

“Really? You think the Valar that told my father they wouldn’t hear even the echo of his lamentations will somehow undo the destruction of his people?”

Círdan sighed.

“Lad, that wasn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

“They’re dead. All of them. And it doesn’t matter if they someday walk again on the blessed shores of the West, they still died. Horribly.”

“No winter lasts forever. When the snow melts, the green returns,” Círdan said softly.