Written for Akallabêth in August at The Silmarillion Writer's Guild.
(Prompt 70: Storm)
Clouds chased the sky, wind rattled the shutters, trees danced a wild roundel in their colourful garb.
Inside, Elrond warmed his hands over the fire, relishing in the warmth and enjoying the absence of wood smoke permeating a dwelling without a flue.
After much labour and more than one setback, the main house was finally habitable. This winter, they would have warmth and comfort, and live again a more normal life with joy and merriment even when the weather is at its worst.
Storms, finally, were no longer a cause for unease or worry, but a delight in nature's diversity.