[maikafanawen]

The moment news of their arrival had reached him; Ahret Ban had rushed to meet his former student. He ran into her as she was leaving the Hall. His ever-hard eyes streamed with tears of happiness as he embraced his pupil.

“I am so glad to see you again.” His arms were thick with muscle and held her like a father would a daughter that had been lost and recently found; which in his eyes, she might have been. Hating to excuse herself from dinner with Burzdol’s mother, she told Ahret Ban quickly of her agenda and promised to meet him afterwards. He nodded understandingly and bid her farewell.

Burzdol’s mother was a wonderful cook. The meal to Ani Dao’s hungry stomach was nectar and ambrosia. Excited, though, to meet up with her old teacher, she excused herself early. Thanking his mother royally, she told Burzdol to save her and Ahret Ban a place in the hall: she’d meet them there shortly.

She found Ahret Ban leaning up against a tree in the courtyard, working on a nocturnal dial pendant. When she entered he stood and bowed. Then, to Ani Dao’s surprise drew his sword. Almost of its own accord, her sword hissed free of its scabbard, and Ani Dao met the elf’s first lighting thrust with a two-handed parry. Relief flooded the arms master’s face.

“Oh good. Your reflexes are still good.” He sheathed his sword and extended his arm, as a noble man would any lady. Ani Dao smiled that he treated her with respect when the others had shunned her. She took it and they began their stroll around the garden.

During their walk, Ani Dao told in surprising detail, her life since her departure of Mirkwood. She included, Umbar, Rivendell, Lothlorien, the Shire, and everything else: people, feelings…etcetera. Ahret Ban listened intently to everything; soaking it up, and commenting where needed. When she refused to say more, Ahret Ban took a deep breath.

“You have led a busy life Ani. You have made many decisions that have been for the good. Your sage knowledge, and your wise friendships have implemented you with valuable connections and,” he said looking at the pouch that hung around her neck, “precious tools.” The rest of the walk, they talked about more pleasant things: the distaste of the new gardeners, and simple gossip, usually shared by old noble ladies. In the midst of their conversation, Ani Dao realized that Ahret Ban had led them to the Hall. She looked questioningly at him, and he winked.

“This was your final destination wasn’t it?” He took in her surprised look and remarked humorously, “I am your other half Ani Dao. Anything you would think of doing, I planted in you. You are my tool … my slave.” Ani Dao punched him. And looked down at her dirty clothes. She had been ashamed to wear them in front of Burzdol’s mother, and didn’t want to be seen in the Great Hall with them.

“I’m going to change. Find—”

“Burzdol. He’s saving you and me seats.” He entered magnificently, not giving a shocked assassin a second glance. She shook her head and went to change.

* * *

Now Ani Dao sat in a rich mahogany chair, elven crafted with leaf, and berry motifs. She had changed into a rich, festival-green colored jerken, held together with gold clasps in the shape of leaves. Her hair was let down, and fell in large curls down her back. Around her head was a woven crown of leaves and berries: appropriate for the time of year, and Mirkwoodian custom. On her left sat Ahret Ban, and on her right sat Burzdol.