For some days and nights Annuviel laid at the edge of the river. She knew not how long, for there was little in the way of light in the blackness of the tree limbs and none of it came from the sky. The morning dew never sat upon her cheek, nor did the twinkling of the stars in the late gloaming break through the canopy. She laid in silence, and a sort of quiet peacefulness kept her in a pleasant place between waking and slumber.
"Rin-" she had murmured, and even the wispy sound of her breath amidst the silence of the forest was enough to call the attention of a passing elf. He was wandering, though he would later explain himself a fisherman of an unusual sort, having fished many other careless travelers from the dreamy shores of the Black River.
He checked her wounds, but with gratitude she refused his offer of healing and so he bore her to the hall of his Lord, the Elvenking Thranduil, where she soujurned for a time.
There was merriment to be had in the company of these elves who loved it so, but Annuviel took little of it for herself and drew unfavorable looks for her standoffishness. A few others understood her sobering disposition, either through empathy for her plight or from knowing her quiet mood was an ode to her thoughtfulness.
Often she would stand alone in a flowing gown, as light as a spider's silk, that seemed to dance and play in the dim candlelight with every turn of her wrist. Unchanged by time, she continued to prefer solitude to camaraderie, and she held company in her own thoughts. Eventually, her whispering presence piqued the Elvenking's curiosity, and he summoned her hence.
"What business do you bring to my halls, Glingaerel?" He asked, with all the formality of a king addressing his serf. Annuviel looked upon him with an even gaze, and he returned it. She never held much love for King Thranduil, however she respected him.
"A warg. One of the greatest I have ever known. He was called back to Mordor from his resting place in Forochel, and I have tracked him ever since," said Annuviel, who lifted her chin.
"Tracking is the business of hunters." He pressed, leaning forward in his throne of white wood. "...and wardens. You left the service of the Lady Galadriel as I recall."
Annuviel knew that Thranduil had indeed a long memory.
"I left her service in pursuit of a threat that I could not let lie. My Lady possesses the grace to understand that I chose to follow my heart, in service to us all."
"But an oathbreaker you remain," he said calmly, as though those words held no weight to her, when they were heavy and burdensome.
"Not by her leave," Annuviel retorted. "And I have since returned to Caras Galadhon at her invitation."
That stifled the fair-haired Elvenking's questions, and Annuviel could not tell whether he held distaste for her perceived disloyalty or if he found the situation interesting, as he seemed to value independence in his own way even if he disapproved. Thranduil cared greatly for his people, and for that, Annuviel did not begrudge him his suspicions.
"Mordor has fallen, Glingaerel. Your warg runs thence to his own demise. These woods are guarded well and he will be shot by an archer's piercing arrow ere long. Stay if you wish, but I would urge you to return to Galadriel's woods for your own benefit. The war is won." He paused. "Remind Rinthorad of that as well."
