Anneth has long clung to her dreams, though sorrow has threatened to murder them again and again. There was a time when sorrow made her hopes only sweeter, but as Sauron grows yet stronger in the East, she feels everything she has ever held dear fal...
My times are in thy hand: deliver me from the hand of mine enemies, and from them that persecute me.
- Psalm 31:15
The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.
- Mark Twain
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With arms crossed rather disrespectfully, and eyes trained on a nearby bird angrily, Anneth Voronweiel pouted without shame.
She was nearing her twentieth birthday, a fact she delighted in, but still she sat like a dejected child, all for a childish and foolish reason.
It was so terribly ridiculous and foolish for her to act so, in the manner of an elfling who was lectured. Her brother walked past her, shaking his head at his sister's actions.
The royal family of Mirkwood had just arrived in Imladris, and Anneth had begged her mother to see them, but of course Lindeth rejected her request. Anneth wished to see them, for she found it exciting, and the prospect of seeing high standing elves was, she believed, deeply rooted in her heart. She found herself very angry to know that she would not set eyes on the Elvenking and his son.
Oh, it truly was horrible of her to pout so over such a minute thing, but Anneth refused to show that she knew her actions were laughable. Stubbornness had proven itself in her this day, which partly was the cause for her mother ordering her to her room, where she was to stay until even came.
In her hand Anneth held a small pebble, and in her anger and vexation, she hurled it toward her wall. It bounced off unsatisfactorily.
With sluggish movements, she walked over to the pebble and then threw it out of her window.
Truly a bore did she begin to find her incarceration, regardless of her being alone for a mere five minutes. There was naught that she found fascinating in her surroundings, for as she longed for was to see a king and his prince. 'Twas such a interesting spectacle, she thought, and her childhood dream of marrying a prince did naught to appease her growing irritation.
Soon her door was unmercifully flung open, and in walked Voronen, wearing the expression of a smug winner. He slammed the door behind him, to be met with a piercing glare from Anneth.
"What is it you want, 'Nen?" asked Anneth, anger evident in her tone.
"So, how do you enjoy the jail that is your room, Anneth?"
"Ai, close your mouth, Voronen, there is none who find joy in your remarks."
"Sour. Why are you so sour, little sister? Is it due to your missing out on seeing the Prince of Mirkwood?" He chuckled quietly, with the thought his sister heard him not. She did, and lashed out, catching his ear and twisting it.
"Nidh! Why do you find yourself so violent now? It should be beneficial for Mirkwood's prince to never set eyes on you. He would both vomit and possibly be abducted by you, for you are truly insane, sister."
