[maikafanawen]

The beauty of Swan Wood and its Lady’s house was overwhelming. The trees like towers of silver were just the beginning of its wonder. Never had Annanoldowen seen such a marvel for no books could tell the splendor of this part. The only other place whose majesty ran close was that of Lórien. The elf’s booted feet tread lightly over the ground splayed with gold and silver reflections.

The company was greeted by swan maids who led them inside and to beautifully furnished rooms. Annanoldowen laid her things on the creamy silk that covered the large feather bed in the center back of the room and a maiden parted the curtains that hung over wall length windows, letting in mystical beams of sunlight that broke through the forest canopy. Bowing respectfully, the maid left, closing the intricately designed laurel doors behind her.

Annanoldowen changed into a dress of Rivendell style that was the color of the rushing Gwathló River. Elegant sleeves billowed out to her slender hands and the bodice was woven delicately from silver threads and clasped in the back with silver leaves. The elf let down and brushed her wavy hair, pinning it loosely in the back with a fanciful ornament of blue making. Upon her feet she wore slippers of the lightest fabric, and her feet passed as a silent whisper upon the marbled floors.

She met the rest of Laurel’s recruits in Taralphiel’s hall. The Swan Lady had changed much since Annanoldowen had last seen her. She had withered slightly, but still held the noble aura of power and regime. The scholarly elf bowed deep and listened as she addressed the newcomers.