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...
But above all, my brethren, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or with any other oath...
- James 5:12
All promise outruns performance.
- Ralph Waldo Simpson
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"No, Voronen, I will not!"
"Ai, sister, have some courage! Be true to the words you speak!"
"I never vowed to parade the streets of Imladris in with mud on my face!" Anneth declared, pointed her blunted blade at her brother.
"Oh, I am terrified! How terrifying you are, my lady!" her brother exclaimed with mock terror. Anneth looked at him through angered eyes, even with the knowledge that her blunt sword would not faze her brother.
"I did not give my word that I would do it, therefore I will not."
"Anneth, you are a bore. I was hoping to belittle you for the evident dirt on your face. It would have truly been some great fun, sister. Oh, the laughs!" He pushed her sword down. "Your face is enough to laugh at, anyhow. Mud shall only prove to make it further hilarious."
Genuinely hurt by his playful insult, she dropped her arm down, her sword limply hanging from her hand. "Really, Voronen. It is no wonder why you still have failed to catch the eye of any ellith. You belittle your younger sister so, and I suppose they would not wish to be associated with you." Voronen's mouth dropped, and he cursed himself mentally for being so daft and hurting his little sister. "Furthermore, I find that your face bears far more hilarity than mine does."
"Anneth-I did not mean to hurt you, sister. Forgive me."
"Forgive me? Is that all you have to say? I love you, brother, but never have you paid me a compliment in my life. 'Tis always, 'your face is hilarious', 'I would enjoy making fun of you', 'a prince would not look at you twice'. Is there nothing good to say? If not, I have plenty of terrible things to say of you," she finished, then dropping her sword. It clattered angrily on the stone floor, and Voronen winced, now fearing his sister's wrath. "You can be simply unbelievable; I believe I-ugh!"
She threw her hands in the air with an air of irritation.
"Anneth." She glared at him. "Anneth, I am sorry." Her glare did not waver in the slightest. "Anneth, if it will appease you, I will walk the streets with mud on my face." A smile crossed her face, and she threw her arms around her brother's neck.
"Exactly the answer I had hoped for, muindor!"
"You are not angry?"
"No. Well, a small bit. But if you agree to walk the streets with a soiled face I shall be glad."
Voronen sighed. The things he did for his little sister. He only hoped she would marry someone who loved her as she deserved. And as much as he teased her, and was, in truth, terribly awful to her, he loved his sister. She was beautiful, and he knew that someday he would watch an ellon steal the heart of his baby sister, taking it for his own. Anneth no longer would spend time with him, nor would she care to learn the art of swordfighting. Though that was a terrible shame, Voronen's real plan was to give her beau a piece of his fist before he married Anneth. He would most definitely deserve it.
