It was a day like any other, boring and quiet, Fion stepped into the Prancing Pony and kicked the door closer in the usual way, as if to announe himself, or irritate those in it, as he glanced around with a smirk. There was almost no one there, as always lately, one or two folk as always, he took his tankard, filled with fresh ale and wandered around the inn. He exchanged some words with Eillyne and stood in front of the fireplace, where a Halfling also stood, playing music. Fiontann stood motionless for some moments, enjoying the melodies coming from the Hobbit's instruments when he heard a familiar face, it was Nellye. He had seldom seen her after returning from the Misty Mountains, and now it was time for them to talk for a little, instead of the usual nodding, but bot for too long, the door of the inn opened and a hooded man entered, his posture was familiar too Fiontann, and when he took the hood off he revealed to be Eniredir. He returned from Meluinen as it seemed and Fiontann beckoned him closer, his face now growing serious, Nellye perceived that it was time for work and left, she knew too well that Fion would be looked for after being quiet for some time. Eniredir gave him a a piece of paper wrapped in a cloth, Fiontann read it several times and threw it into the fire, he waited for it to get burned and, ordered a bottle of whiskey.
"There is no force setting out of Angmar, but some men, fifteen or twenty, some emissaries and their guards. They are to be intercepted. The task is yours, we need our numbers elsewhere. We don't know when yet."
The two men left the Prancing Pony and went somewhere quiet to discuss the matter, once again Eniredir was to set out to Meluinen and carry and bring back one last letter. This time he was to stay there until the date when the Angmarim are to set out was known. Fiontann gave him some coins for the trip and what was to happen there and the two men made their way to the Prancing Pony again. Their steps were quiet on the stone road leading to the inn, the only thing heard was Eniredir's proposition of sparring, which delighted Fiontann greatly, he had still had the bottle in his hands when they saw Martie, playing outside the inn. Fiontann rolled the bottle towards the man, who started shouting merrily, and the two proceeded towards the North Gate. It was a good and enjoyable fight, with Fiontann winning this time, the count was one victory for each. "Next time it will be more interesting." said Fion when they made their way back. Eniredir went to the Prancing Pony, to get some rest and drink, before his departure and Fiontann went home.
It was after midnight and Fiontann was still awake, he had spent his evening in his office, looking at the maps and the papers. Trying to guess a possible route for those Angmarims, trying to find who was suitable for the task, trying to think if the employers were trustworthy. Two candles were lit, one on each side of the desk, shedding light on it. Fiontann was leaning on his elbow on the desk, his head resting on his fist as his eyes were moving on the maps and the papers. Along the lines of the paths, in and out of Angmar and along the sentences, with the names and specialties of the Dawners. At last he stood up to let the blood flow in his veins and make a cup of tea, to help him relax and clear his mind. He took a cup from the shelf and walked into the main room, he leaned over the fireplace and hung the pot over the fire to boil. He straightened his body and stretched his limbs, when he heard a light scratching on the door, he turned his head towards it and narrowed his eyes. "Can it be assailants? Can they have followed Eniredir and are now after the one who read the letter?" he thought and quietly walked into the office, he took his greatsword in hand and made his way to the door, he stood behind it and smiled, keeping his senses sharp and listened... He heard the scratching again and immediately opened the door and gripped the sword with both hands, ready to swing it against anyone that was there. No one was there, leaned closer to the doorcase to check the sides and still nothing...
A sigh escaped his lips, half relieved and half disappointed as he expected something interesting when he felt something on his foot. His gaze lowered and he saw a cat, leaving a smaller one on his foot, he looked at the sight puzzled and took both in his left arm, as he set the sword near the door. He locked the door and went inside again, a smile appeared on his face when he realised that the big cat was Annsuel's. "She remembered." he thought and poured some of the milk, he bought from the market, the day before in a bowl so that the black cat would drink. "Where is Annsuel?" he asked Honey as he leaned over her to pet her. As he hand moved over her head towards her back Fiontann felt something, something was attacked to her collar. It was a piece of paper, he unrolled it and read:
"For whoever my cat goes to, who I dearly hope is someone I care for, I ask that you take good care for her. My days are up as I have finally fallen too ill to walk, and will die any one of these days. But my cat is my most treasured possession, so whoever my dear Honey comes too, please take care of her. That is all I ask for.
With love, Annsuel."
An uneasiness grew into him as he read the letter over and over again. He couldn't believe what was written in the note and took Honey into his arms and rushed to Annsuel's house, it was close, so it didnt' take him too much time. The door was unlocked as always and he entered into it looking for her, but she was gone... He sank his head in his palms and rubbed his face, not able to think where could she be, he heard that she left the Dawn, but where could she be, he thought many times, until he said that aloud, "Where are you?" and at that moment Honey started making sounds and ran outside the house, Fiontann ran after her, following her into Chetwood. They ran North into the forest, until Honey stopped near some bushes and started looking intently at them, almost afraid to get close, Fiontann stood there, not sure what he was about to see, but he had to do it. He approached, only to see Annsuel's dead body, curled up in a ball, cold and alone. He fell on his knees and cursed at that, at the way she died, all alone, in a dark forest, with no one to care. She could have told him, he would be there... He was sure that she knew it...
He took the body in his arms and carried it to her house, there he lied her on the bed and using a piece of cloth and some water he cleaned her off the mud and blood. Around her waist was a bag, as he was removing it from her a journal fell from it, as his hands shook at the loss of his friend, or more than a friend... He took it and saw that it was her personal journal, her drawings and writings where inside, he put it aside for the moment and wrapped the body in a cloth. Into the night he walked and found a place suitable for her to be buried and dug up a hole, not too deep, nor too shallow, carefully he put the body inside and covered it. Under the light of the moon he searched around and found a bush of blueberries, carefully he dug it up and planted it on her grave, she loved berries, it was the smallest thing he could do. He stood over the grave for some moments and left, he took her journal from her house, where he left it and went to his. He started reading it and looking at the drawings, he smiled and even laughed at some, but he never shed a tear, he knew that she wouldn't want that. Eventually he hid it, he will treasure it as long as he is going to live.
Eventually as the night went by the small black cat crawled up on him and rubbed its head on his chest, he took it in his arms and smiled, he had to name it, he was never good at giving names. He thought of Despair, the state he found Annsuel and the manner she wrote the note, but Annsuel lacked one thing in her life, she was succumbed in the difficulties and accepted everything that came in her life, sadness, happiness, pain, joy. Fiontann wanted to convince her that there is hope left in this world, but he failed, once again... He raised it and smiled, "You are Hope!" he said, in memory of Annsuel.
