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FOG 3.5: ACC, part VII

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I love thee Lord Jesus, look down from the sky


Winter, 1 TA
Imladris


Anárië lifted her head with exaggerated slowness, careful not to aggravate the neck, but she still winced slightly at the stiff feeling which followed the simple movement. Her shoulders, rolled ever so slowly and carefully, screamed a complaint, too.

She’d been stuck inside the Last Homely House for most of the day, helping Erestor with the rotations, and certainly making sure he didn’t accidentally assign Elves together who honestly couldn’t abide each other’s company, for one.

For another, it was simply better if she was near when he did this. Not that he couldn’t do it on his own, but sometimes … sometimes Anárië had a feeling he liked having her near when dealing with these kind of formalities.

The end result, however, wasn’t the prettiest when she considered herself and the way she felt entirely broken.

"Had enough for one day?"

Turning her head, and wincing at the sudden movement, Anárië rubbed her neck while glancing in Erestor’s direction: "I’m slowly getting there. Do we have many more to sort out?"

His black hair fanned out across his shoulders as he shook his head: "No, just a score more, and I only need you to give me pointers on these. They’re the last of the veterans and I have a feeling they might be the more ornery."

The elleth pulled a face, but bent her head over the parchment he unrolled before her, pointing out names.

He was right; they were going to be difficult to work with.

"Him, him and him," she pointed out, "and then the rest together. That’s the best option I can think of right now if we don’t want to have to deal with them too much."

Erestor quickly jotted down lines beside the names she gave him, and then rolled the parchment up again: "I’ll finish these after the evening meal. Thank you, Anná; I think you won’t need to help me again soon, but I really am thankful."

The elleth laughed softly and stretched, reaching out with her arms: "You’re welcome, and you also might be on to something there."

He patted her shoulder with a chuckle, then looked by her to one of the high windows through which they could see the snow, still falling.

"If I were you, I’d head out for a little bit. Preferably with those two monsters you keep hiding in your rooms."

Anárië gave a cheeky grin: "Are you having problems with my cubs, Erestor?"

"Just my ankles," he replied dryly, and she smiled brightly while passing him by.

Most of the Elves who were residents of Imladris were coming in after a day spent trudging through snow, if nothing else than by throwing it aside in the courtyards. The air was crisp, but the feeling of coldness wasn’t as strong as it could be when there was no snow. She inhaled deeply, feeling her body relax, and then made her way to her own chambers, greeting those she knew as she went.

Alana and Akela practically brought down their confided space when she appeared in the rooms, and she barely saved the construction in time.

"Here, you two, slow down!"

The cubs yipped and snuffled around her ankles, licking at her boots and climbing up her legs to reach her hands and try and nip her fingers in affection.

Anárië smiled and rubbed their ears, whistling softly: "I know, I know, you’ve been closed-off all day today, but we’re headed out right now. Let’s go find Glorfindel, shall we? He should be around here somewhere."

At the mention of his name, the little wolves ran in circles, and the elleth laughed when she let them out after grabbing her heavy cloak.

Normally, she would have considered the idea of two pups running around wild as not the smartest, but they were still so young that they had easily transferred their affections from their dead mother to herself and Glorfindel, and seemed perfectly content with following them around and whining when they weren’t near. Even now, Alana plunged ahead, but stopped at the first stairs to look back and beckon with a wagging tail, while her brother kept close to her heels.

"I’m coming, I’m coming," Anárië told them with a bright smile, watching them fondly as they careened down the stairs, slipping at the end and rolling over each other. She was going to have to thank Glorfindel for them again when she managed to find him.

It turned out she didn’t have to go far at all, and her wolfish companions were very good hunters already; they suddenly gave out little yips of excitement and barrelled over towards where three Elves could be seen in the falling snow just coming in from the main courtyard.

Glorfindel ducked quickly to grab one pup with each hand, just as a safety precaution, laughing as they wrapped themselves wildly around his arms, licking and nipping.

"Are these the cubs?" Anárië heard Rímallen’s voice from under one of the hoods, and Celebrían’s laughing confirmation from under another.

"Have you had a good day, your highnesses?" she asked, smiling as she stepped out, pulling the hood of her cloak up to cover her hair and then bending to take at least one of the pups off Glorfindel’s hands.

"Oh, it was splendid!" the youngest princess gushed, "We’re only sorry it’s over … what about yourself? Did you and lord Erestor finish the rotations?"

"At the price of my shoulders and fingers, yes," Anárië replied with a shake of her head, "If I have to look at one of those parchments again soon, I might want to burn it to cinder."

Her husband laughed right along with the two princesses, who passed under the archway so they could take off their hoods.

"Are you coming, lord Glorfindel?" Celebrían asked, turning back.

Glorfindel turned to Anárië: "What were your plans right now?"

"Apart from finding you? Simply taking these two out for a little bit," she answered, shrugging her shoulders.

Rímallen waved a hand: "You should go with her, Glorfindel, those two are a handful, I can see it already and I’ve only just met them."

Maybe it was her imagination, but Anárië would have sworn that the golden-haired princess nudged her silver-haired sister from saying something. Instead, Celebrían seemed to be in agreement all of a sudden: "We promised lord Elrond to dine with him tonight, and we should get ready, but he didn’t say anything about any other company."

"Then we will see you tomorrow at the morning meal, ladies," Glorfindel excused both himself and his wife, and turned his back on the house again.

The two pups, bored with talk, had already romped through a snow drift, and Anárië eyed them with an arched eyebrow: "They will be a menace to dry off."

Glorfindel chuckled, reaching for her arm to guide her around an icy patch: "We’ll manage. We can always hand them over to Erestor."

The elleth smothered a laugh at the imagined expression on their friend’s face, and shook her head lightly: "I fear that might turn out to be the end of our friendship with him, my lord."

Akela suddenly sniffed something and bounded ahead, which cut the dialogue short as both Elves hastened after their charges so they wouldn’t lose sight of them.

"Did you have a good day?" Anárië transferred her earlier question to her husband, who had just bent over to grab Alana by the scruff of her neck.

"It has been a long one, I will admit, but it was pleasant," he answered after shaking the pup out and dropping her again before straightening out, "Still, I would have offered to help you and Erestor, otherwise."

She eyed him from under the hood of her cloak: "You hate paperwork even more than I do, and that isn’t an exaggeration."

Glorfindel shrugged, some from simple gesture, and something to shake off the snow from his shoulders: "I would have been in your company, wouldn’t I? That would have made it good."

She was thankful for the darkness except for the few lanterns that were still glowing here, because she was sure her cheeks were burning by this point.

Everything was so confusing to her, except for the fact that she knew she wanted to spend more time with her husband, to reacquaint herself with him, and to hear him talk, and laugh. She missed him when he was gone, and worried when he had a dangerous errand to do.

What could she comment on that?

"I think I would have liked that," she finally said in a murmur, watching the two wolf cubs rolling around in front of their feet, after dashing all around in circles for a couple of moments.

His gloved hand found hers and gave it a squeeze, which brought a smile to her lips.

"You’re not planning any more snowball fights, are you?" she asked after a moment, suddenly suspicious.

Glorfindel threw his head back and laughed, the sound muffled in the snow, but still making the wolves lift their heads to look at him curiously.

"No, I admit I have no such plans," he answered her, still chuckling.

She was relieved: "Good. I’m not in the mood for one tonight."

They rounded a corner, and she stopped, eyeing the sight that opened before her.

There were seven snowmen spread out in front of them.

"Seven?" she asked, turning her head with a smile as she looked at her husband.

Glorfindel’s smile was absurdly pleased: "The princesses were more than happy to help me build these."

"And your little wolves are more than happy to ruin them," she commented, making him turn his head around rapidly to where Alana had just attacked one of the snowmen, toppling its head over and becoming buried in the snow.

Anárië burst out laughing at the expression on his face, and wrapped her arms around one of his: "It’s the thought that counts. Besides … this is the most fun they’ve had all day."

He turned to look at her with a rueful smile, and she briefly brushed her cheek against his shoulder.

They were interrupted by an indignant yelp, coming from one huge pile of snow.

"I think it’s time we came to the rescue," Glorfindel sighed, shaking his head.

Anárië laughed again, and then went to see if she could at least do some damage control, if she couldn’t save the dignity of two wet and bedraggled wolf-cubs.
On the seventh day of Christmas ...

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