[Annunfuiniel]

“Hello, M'Lady.” The words of greeting broke into Aiyana’s consciousness and she raised her head in surprise. Had someone just addressed her? “Might I interest you in something?” She needed a second glance before she could isolate the speaker form the crowd.

Any other day she would gladly have taken a closer look at the young - and good-looking – glassmaker’s produce. But not today. Like a ray of sunlight that peeked from behind storm clouds his friendly smile only made the darkness around her seem deeper, more threatening. Before the silence turned awkward Aiyana forced herself to act. Her tongue refused to form a single word so she helplessly shook her head and walked away.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ She gritted her teeth and silently scolded herself; ‘Have you already given up?’ But her anger wasn’t lasting, despair prevailed. ‘Yes, it’s over, all over…’ Aiyana trudged forward without watching, without seeing. Her feet took her along the familiar city streets; past the stalls, through crowds, around corners – hesitating not once. But her mind was elsewhere. People flowed past her, many familiar faces looked up and greeted her. Lairwyn was only one of them: she nearly bumped into Aiyana and a wide smile rose to her face as she recognised her friend.
“Aiyana!” she exclaimed, but Aiyana walked forward. Lairwyn stopped and turned to watch how her friend's back drew away from her. “Aiyana?”

‘Yesterday…’ the grave maiden thought and suddenly an unexpected, preoccupied smile lightened her expression. ‘Everything was so perfect!’ Even before her smile died away a tear drew its path down her dusty cheek. Yes, everything had been perfect, she had been happy. ‘Yesterday…’

* * * * * * *

Aiyana plunged through the door and ran across the hallway. ‘I’m late!’ she thought but then laughed over it. ‘So what? It was well worth it!’ Her dark blonde ponytail swung gaily from side to side as she scurried up the stairs two steps at a time – in most unladylike manner.

“Aiyana?” The maiden heard her mother’s voice from the room on her left. She slackened her pace and inhaled deeply, trying to settle her panting breath. “Yes, mother?” Aiyana replied and peeked in to the small but bright chamber. Light yellow curtains flapped in the soft evening breeze that flowed in from an open window.
“You are late from supper,” A middle-aged woman spoke and stood up, placing her embroidery on a nearby table; “…and from the party.” The woman’s face was grave but no trace of disapprobation was to be heard in her tone. Mother and daughter stood face to face, the other grey and calm, the other flushed and still gasping.

“I know. But I couldn’t leave earlier.” The younger woman tried to gain an earnest, professional tone, an attempt in which she would have succeeded – in any other circumstances. But today all was different. “I must go and see father at once! I have great news for him,” A wide smile broke to her face, making her dark grey eyes glimmer in the light of the westering sun. “Finally it happened! Windwith flew to me; from over hundred yards it came to me. No hesitation – Deor can prove it - but straight and neatly to my glove hand. Now that he’s manned I can start flying him and-” Even through her excitement Aiyana became aware that Fridya, her mother, wasn’t really listening.

“So that’s where your brother has been.” The older woman seemed to revive as Aiyana’s voice ceased to be heard. “Well, go get changed now and then visit your father. Ava didn’t stay to wait you as she knew you would be late and she didn’t want to miss the party. Erian picked her up and they would have taken Deor with them too but he was nowhere to be found. Where is he now then? If he indeed must follow you then I hope you look after him; I don’t like him being around those beasts…

“Mother, my birds are no paltry ‘beasts’!” In case Aiyana had had time she would most likely have gone into a detailed account on falcons’ superiority to any other animals. It was her mother’s luck that she was in hurry. “And Deor is fine, he just got left behind as we raced home from the mews.”

Fridya sighed and raised her hands as a sign of surrender. Aiyana rolled her eyes and turned to leave. “I hope Ava didn’t borrow the dress I was planning to wear?” she exclaimed from the door.

* * * * * * *

Aiyana dressed hastily in her lavender-blue silk gown and put on her soft, pointed slipper socks. ‘What about the hair?’ she pondered – but not for long. She untied the rough ponytail and swayed her head downwards and then back up. The wavy tresses settled down on their own under her shoulder blades. “That’ll have to do…” Aiyana spoke to her reflection as she wiped off a lock trailing over her eye and then headed back downstairs.

* * * * * * *

She knew where to look for her father: at this hour of the day Wildor Kestrel always sat in the study, putting the family’s accounts in order.

“Father? I have great news-” But to the girl’s surprise the grey-bearded man wasn’t sitting in front of his table but stood back towards the door. Hearing his daughter’s voice he turned around.

“Daughter, you look beautiful tonight.” The old man spoke but Aiyana didn’t pay any attention to his words. ‘What is wrong?’ The young woman frowned as she saw her father's strained face. But even as she was about to speak her thought aloud her father took a step towards her and extended his hand to her.

Behind him stood a tall man in dark uniform.
“Aiyana, we have a visitor; come and greet him…” Wildor took his daughter’s hand; “This is Sir Déoren, the captain of Erian’s company. And he has come here tonight with a request.”

Aiyana stared at the floor as she did a practised, yet not the most graceful curtsy she could pose. Whether the stranger noticed this or not was hard for her to tell but in secret she would that the man had indeed marked her slight arrogance. For before lowering her eyes she had seen the man’s pale blue gaze measuring her like she was some prize bull. From that first look onwards she took an instinctive dislike to him.

“So this is the flower of your house of whom we have spoken.” Sir Déoren greeted her with a barely visible nod. His voice was clear but cold as the mountain streams and involuntarily Aiyana shivered upon hearing it. ‘Why have they talked about me?’ She wondered, knowing already that whatever the answer might be she would hardly like it.

“Yana, I have news for you too. As I said, Sir Déoren came to me with a request and we have now discussed it…” Wildor spoke to his daughter but didn’t look at her. Then suddenly his wandering gaze halted and fixed on Aiyana. Never before had she seen such look in her father’s eyes. Was it sadness, remorse or relief that reflected from the mirrors of his soul Aiyana couldn’t tell – and her heart skipped a beat. 'Whatever comes you’ll handle it!' she told herself.

But the blow that came was overwhelming.
“Aiyana. On behalf of his son Déorwine Sir Déoren has asked me for your hand…” The sun sank beyond the horizon. ‘Last sunset!’ “…and I have given my consent and my word.” Darkness fell.

* * * * * * *

Reality hit Aiyana literally in the stomach. She had continued her aimless stroll even as her mind wandered on quite different paths; many bruises would remind her the next day of the dangers of such mindless wandering. But suddenly she walked straight to someone standing right in the middle of the street. Air escaped her, and with it a frightened scream of one who has just waken up from a nightmare.

During the next seconds things happened too fast for Aiyana’s drowsy mind. She saw the ‘obstacle’ to which she had ran into: a child, or so it seemed to her at first. The hooded figure sat on the ground, motionless like a stone in the posture to which Aiyana’s push had sent him flying.

“S-sorry…” she managed to falter. From under the veiling hood all she could see was a gaping mouth and a flash of wide open eyes staring at her in terror. “I didn’t mean to-”

Suddenly the small figure sprang up quicker than the eye could perceive. His mouth opened and closed couple of times but no voice came out of him. Then, before Aiyana could do a thing, he swung round and darted away.

“Wait-” Aiyana began but her shaky voice wouldn’t have stopped anyone. ‘I really scared him out of his mind! I must go after him…’ But before she could carry out this plan another voice spoke to her in a confident tone.

“Heavens, Aiyana! Your cry made me jump! And likely it’s startled Madi too. Now he’s gone, who knows where.” The young woman turned around, still, and now even more, confused. She had recognised Ruthven’s familiar voice but in her state she couldn’t give her an answer of any kind. The old woman was straining to see where the boy had gone.

“And what’s with this sleepwalking? It isn’t healthy to daydream while wandering around on Market Day you know.” The old woman turned back and eyed the falconer, her previous perplexity and slight annoyance giving way to concern. “Aiyana?”

“I’m…fine, Ruthven. But that boy… I didn’t mean to scare him. Where did he go, I must speak to him!”

“Yes, he’s a bit slow in some things and then too quick in others.” Aiyana’s brow furrowed at Ruthven’s words. ‘This is hardly the time for riddles.’ She thought but let it pass. Ruthven’s concern for the boy made her feel even worse. The old woman grabbed the handles of her wagon and put it in motion with one strong push. “He’s a strange little man, and strong, yet I worry. I hope he’s made for The Horse, and Bethberry. He-”

But Aiyana was gone too. She ran towards the White Horse Inn, resolved to find this ‘strange little man’ and explain and apologise her behavior.

Some way up the road she stumbled and fell on her knees. The stench of the gutters assailed her nose and she got up in no time, pushing aside a pair of hands too eager to help her. “Damned skirts!” she puffed and grasped the cloth with her free hand.

The panting girl reached the inn’s door without further incidents. Inside it was too crowded; she couldn’t tell if the little hooded fellow was there or not. But suddenly it didn’t matter.

"Aiyana? Good to see you!" The innkeeper’s voice was full of warmth and joy upon seeing a good friend. But it took a whole another tone when Aiyana fixed her gaze on her. “What’s wrong?” Bethberry’s worry broke the dam.

“All! Everything!” Aiyana cried and grabbed the back of a close-by chair to hold her balance. Her tears ran free.

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