"There is nothing in this waste except ice and silence.
The wind upon the ice sings. We instruct the little ones not to listen, though many adults must also be reminded not to do so. To listen is to be lost, for the voices of the dead are in the wind. They clamor to be heard, always. They are maddening, the voices. They speak of love lost, of trust betrayed, and of blood split. So much blood."
These words are from the wonderful fanfic "Cold Fame" written by the very talented zeen.
I liked that story a lot, too.