Morwen and Gilraen by Zdenka  

Chapter 1

It was the time of the midwinter feast. There was scant merriment in Dor-lómin, but Morwen stalked about the house with grim purpose, setting garlands of greenery in place as if fortifying a keep against the Enemy. She sat in silent vigil through the night, Nienor asleep in her arms.

Gilraen remembers when she came from her father’s house crowned with flowers, how Arathorn’s stern face lit at the sight of her. Now she has the child he left her, and a scant four years’ worth of memories. Their long watch must not falter; but the price seems too high.