[Annunfuiniel]

Annanoldowen rode off an hour before the sun rose to noon. Annunfuin felt curiously relieved; as if half of the work had already been done. In the next moment, however, he came down to earth, realizing how absurd this thought was. They couldn’t rely solely on this new hope, they stood still on the very brim of destruction. There was a blank look on Annunfuin’s face as he walked across the yard to the stables. Shortly he bid the stable boy to make sure Fëadûr would be saddled three hours past mid-day. No reason to delay the departure any longer; all must be made ready by then. he mused while pacing briskly back to the House.

The air inside felt cool after the heat of the sun. Still, after the days he had already spent at the Swan House, Annunfuin felt lost at once as the walls circled him. I’ll be damned! How on earth will I ever manage all that needs to be done if I can’t even find my way from the back door to my own chamber? His frustration erupted in a flow of curses that luckily went unheard by the children of the House. In an attempt to put more weight to his words Annunfuin clenched his fist and slapped it against his right thigh.

He managed to hit himself right to the still fresh wound. The Gondorian winced and his face twisted with pain. But the sharp twinge flooding over him gave him a heavy reminder of why he didn’t know his way around the house: he had laid in bed for the better half of the time. “Better go back outside…” he grumbled to himself and straightened his back. But before he could take even one step a familiar voice addressed him from the left-hand corridor.

“Sir, may I help you?” Annunfuin recognised the maiden that had lead him and the three girls through the house just that same morning and a hint of smile rose to his lips as he spoke.

“Aye, indeed, Briana! I must get back to my room… But before that: could you take me to the study, or wherever the Lady Taralphiel keeps the maps of her realm?”

The girl gave Annunfuin a questioning eye but did not speak her reflections out loud. She has probably stood there longer than is desirable… Annunfuin thought and wondered if he should apologize his vulgar wording. But the maiden just nodded and beckoned him to follow, obviously advised to fulfil the guest’s every wish. They took to the left and disappeared into the shadowy passage.

* * * * * * *

Annunfuin sat on a bench in an embrasure and studied the scroll that lay unfolded in his lap. With his right index finger he once more traced the route from the Swan House across the Wood towards west; towards the cover that the hills would offer to the residents of the House. Finally his finger rested on a handful of round marks drawn to indicate small caverns the hunters from the house and village had used if the night had caught them too far from home. He tapped the spot a few times before raising his eyes from the map. They will be safe there he sighed. While glimpsing out from the window he marked that the sun’s ascent had ended; the day was beginning to grow old.

A creak of the door made Annunfuin turn from the sight of the sunny garden back towards to dimly lit study. The maid Briana stood in the door way.

“The elf Rudchamion is here, Sir, as you requested.”

“Well, let him in, let him in!” Annunfuin exclaimed, allowing himself to laugh inside at the girl’s odd ranking order: he would never have thought of letting an elf wait for his leave to enter a room. Outwards his expression changed only little as the dark elf entered the room and the two greeted each other courtly.

“With Lady Taralphiel’s consent I’m organising the evacuation of the Swan House.” Annunfuin began and pointed at the map that he had placed on a dark-wooden table. Rudchamion quickly took in the plan and nodded his approval. “I will need your help, friend. The road is long and rough – if there indeed is one – and we must get going as soon as possible. We are 50 strong, but with a vast number of wounded, or very young children.” Annunfuin’s eyes grew darker with the image of suffering faces teasing his mind. “First I thought of dividing us into two groups but now I see that won’t work… The stronger must carry those too weak to walk, though it’s a great strain to them. Would you take the lead? You are more used to the forests than I am. My place will be in the rear.”

Rudchamion needed no time to come up with an answer: “I will do all that I can to help you, Annunfuin.”

* * * * * * *

Before the third hour after noon had arrived the Swan House had become empty. Lady Taralphiel stood under the arched doorway and watched as her household bustled on the yard, ready to leave for their refuge. But many were reluctant to take the journey without their dear leader; murmurs rose while others tried to drown their sorrow in to the feverish preparations.

Annunfuin watched the Lady from the corner of his eye. He perceived the mask of graveness that veiled her inner feelings; the mask that was slowly cracking. Suddenly she raised her hand - and everything was silent.

“People of the House of the Swan” Taralphiel began, in a strangely low tone; “The Forest is your friend as you know; it will let you pass and it will hide your track. Fare in peace! I will wait for your return here…” She raised both her hands into a blessing, then turned and walked away. The silence remained.

Annunfuin stood still a moment, then gave a sign to Rudchamion to order the group forward. With the elf’s call stretchers were raised and soon the vanguard vanished from Annunfuin’s sight into the shades of the forest. He waited in the ground until the very last pair of the line limped under the laurel trees. Then, with an effort, he hauled himself to the saddle and let Fëadûr take the road after the others.

* * * * * * *

A soft twilight surrounded the slowly trudging group as it entered the forest. Once again Annunfuin felt like he had passed into a whole another world with different light, time, all. The birds in the trees… their chirrup was like humming. And the other animals, big and little; they were silent, it almost felt if they were watching that no harm came to the travellers. No-one spoke and the enchantment rested over them.

Fëadûr’s hooves made no sound as they met the mossy ground. But yet it was the riding that kept Annunfuin in close contact with the reality. Sitting in the saddle stretched his wound and made him grit his teeth harder with every move.

It was against his nature to give in but finally he had absolutely no other choice than to pull his stallion to a halt and dismount. While limping in the rear he truly felt like part of the hapless gang: tired and miserable.

The lashing twig caught him unguarded. But a sharp slap in the face was just what the Gondorian needed. Straighten up man! he told himself like to the young soldiers under his command; Things could be worse – and they still can turn that way unless you pay attention. Annunfuin adjusted his posture accordingly and peered over the odd line of bowed heads and stooped shoulders. While straining to catch a glimpse of the van and Rudchamion he suddenly found himself sneering. Admirable obedience! he remembered to commend himself.

But there was no time for sarcasm. The sun was still high but so was their way still long and their trudge slow – for the weary travellers the day was growing old. Annunfuin counted the hours by the golden rays that peeked through the boughs and leaves. Four hours before sunset. That isn’t much... The flash of dark grey eyes signalled resolution. But it’ll be enough.

Chased by haste Annunfuin picked up some speed and soon reached the last of the robed figures in front of him: a girl. A familiar girl.

“Hello…Rian, wasn’t it?” The girl raised her head in alarm but relaxed with seeing the old man’s friendly smile. Annunfuin couldn’t read any recognition in her empty eyes; only a weak nod answered in affirmative. He nodded back and for a while they walked side by side in silence.

“You look much better than the last time I saw you. I hope you’re feeling better too?” Annunfuin’s words were again answered with a barely noticeable motion of head. Undecided about how to continue a conversation that alarmingly began to resemble a monologue Annunfuin rested his left hand on his sword hilt while his right slowly ran through Fëadûr’s black mane.

A voice not much louder than the sound of wind circling in the bushes gently pulled the Gondorian’s wandering mind back to present.

“Hmh, sorry?”

“He’s beautiful.” The voice was now clearly audible though still a bit thick due to lack of use in the past few days.

“He is, isn’t he? And guess what?” With coloured graveness in his tone Annunfuin cast a bait – and the girl took it. As the ‘what’ formed on Rian’s face he gave her the bridle, stepped aside and grinned broadly; “He knows that himself too!” Fëadûr whinnied softly at this and chafed his muzzle against the girl’s shoulder.

Annunfuin walked slowly forward and breathed a silent ‘thank you’ into the wind. For without turning, without looking he knew it, he felt it: Rian was smiling.

[ October 04, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]