Rating: G
Warnings: none
Genres: Fluff, Friendship
Length: triple drabble

Summary: Finrod tries to sell the idea of the Undying Lands, truly he does.

Notes:
A gift for Gre3nleaf, who requested for this one. (Enjoy! And sorry for the nearly year-long delay.) And for all readers, I hope you all like it. :) I'm needing some cuteness in my life, myself, especially this semester.
by the way, "Lindarin" means the same as "Avarin/Nandorin." Only that, I don't think Finrod would ever call someone "Rejector/Turned," especially regarding cutie-pies. :)

45. Valinor
After All is said and Done

"Is there trees in Valinor?" The little Lindarin Elfling perked up.

"Lots!" Finrod, seated beneath his swinging little feet at the lowest branch, smiled with bittersweet memory. "Huge trees, with yummy fruits and beautiful flowers. They make for nice forests, don't you think so? And there are lots of fields with springy green grass to run about in, too."

The little boy scrunched up his nose. "Snow?" He pointed at the very, very thick carpet of the white stuff piled under the tree, maybe for emphasis.

It was Finrod's turn to scrunch up his nose.

There was no winter in Valinor, at least not when the Two Trees had still been there.

The elfling sighed, as if knowing the answer already. – Or maybe he did, the cheeky little tyke.

And in the next instance, forewarned only by the minuscule shudder of the tree-trunk, Finrod found himself falling down fast under the Elfling's weight thumping on top of him,

Straight into the snowdrift.

It was worth the bruised pride and root-struck ribs, though, to listen to the little child's peels of laughter at his snow-capped head.

Well, but he was a king. Retaliation was due…

The snow surged, as he tackled the tiny form and brought the flailing prize into his arms. "Now, little one, you have just pushed a king into the snow," he informed the giggling boy in his most ominous voice.

And then, his long fingers danced lightly, nimbly along the Elfling's sides, armpits and neck. There were smacky kisses in the ear, too, for good measure.

He played all kinds of musical instruments, but this was by far his favourite.

Beleriand needed more of this kind of music, too: that of a child's gales of laughter and shrieks of glee.

And Valinor needed snow.

Lots of snow.