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Subject: Rising

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Date Posted: 17:43:26 09/16/02 Mon

The sun filtered in through the heavy and unfamiliar curtains. The light pooled across her face and pierced the darkness behind her closed eyelids. Anawiel shook herself.

The dream seemed to have remained fixed in her mind as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Every blink caused another part of it to come rushing back to her, a stormy tide of freezing salt water that shook her to the bone.

As if it was a new thing to her, Anawiel noted she was on a bed. She could not remember going back to her room at all. She looked around, bewildered, as she took in the fine draperies and tapestry that hung from the stone walls; the soft thick rugs that lay on the floor; the velvet eiderdown beneath her crumpled green dress. To her side was a piece of parchment, scrunched up where she had obviously lain on it at some time during the night:

Iíll see you in the morning. Be in my study. This changes nothing.

The last three words almost scared her. She hadn't meant to fall asleep in his room, she hadn't meant to get him angry, she hadn't meant for any of this to happen. If she had known this a while ago she would've let the orc raiders kill her, then maybe none of this would be happening. But that was wrong and she knew it deep down. Anawiel had not yet made the fatal mistake of surrendering and she wasn't going to do that now. Whether or not she could make the king understand, she was right. He couldn't take that away from her.

Getting up she discovered the time was now 9 O'Clock, only an hour until she had to meet with Elessar again. Hurriedly she got up and pulled the bedclothes straight, smoothing them down with rough fingertips.


Anawiel had washed her hair - something she admitted to herself, she did not do often enough, judging from the dirty brown water now filling the basin on her table. She had even had a bath. Her pink skin now felt rough and sore from the forciful scrubbing of the maides who appeared out of nowhere whenever you ordered something in the palace.

She had never liked being treated above her station by people her own age. Looking in the large mirror she studied herself, crictically taking in her apperance.

What she saw was a pale skinned girl with an overwhelming flag of deep red hair that threatened to over-power her face. She wore a borrowed sea-blue dress in made in the elven style with long tapering sleeves reaching over her hands. It was perhaps a little small for her as it hugged her body tightly showing her disgustingly bony figure. She had lost a lot of weight since her arrival. Her eyes were soft green emeralds surrounded with thick dark lashes - a strange mix from her ruby hair - and small red lines pierced the milky whites of her eyes, leaving them bloodshot as though she had been crying.

After sighing deeply and re-arranging her hair yet again, Anawiel set off to find Aragorn.

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