3. Ice Queen
Snow. She just couldn't like it, no matter how pretty it looked in the sunlight.
"Come out here, mother! It's fun!" her daughter called, waving to her.
No. She did not mind them playing, but they would have just as much fun without her. Likely the memory of the Grinding Ice coloured her perceptions, yet she had no desire to confront this particular dislike. Yet it felt churlish to stay inside as her husband and daughter frolicked in the freshly-fallen snow.
Again, an insistent wave and a call to join them.
With a sigh, Galadriel gave in and went outside.
Written for Aruthir's birthday, January 2012
The request: [...]might I request tales involving snow in some way? Looking out of my window at all this rain is really rather depressing...