Disclaimer: Anything you don't recognise is mine and everything else belongs to Tolkien.
A/N: If anywhere in the story it says 'Arterial' instead of Alarien, then it's just because I clicked on the wrong thing in my spell check, because I when I pasted it into a new html file from word I had to go through it and re-format it which was sooooooo boring, and so maybe I made some mistakes!
Arwen awoke to the familiar sound of the birds singing. She lay in her bed for several minutes before she got up, listening to the intricate patterns of sound they wove as they flew through the air. The sunlight shone through the window and touched her face, and her skin seemed to glow ethereally. Mentally, Arwen readied herself for the journey she was to begin that day. Sighing, she got up and dressed. As she waited for Alarien to come and fix her hair into something suitable for riding, she thought of Aragorn. How her whole being ached for him. His words. His touch. Arwen knew that here was no longer any choice for her. She would rather live one life with him, than in eternity without him. But as Alarien had said, it was a bitter path to choose. There was much she would have to forsake. But she was willing, so strong was her love for this king among men.
The opening of the door interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to Alarien coming in. She smiled as her friend closed the door behind her and held out her delicate, long-fingered hand for her to take.
"Are you ready my friend?"
"I am ready" Alarien replied. Skilfully she pinned her mistress's hair, deftly tucking and braiding the soft, almost black hair. With her sparkling sapphire blue eyes, Arwen's face was indeed like a star in the soft, black velvet of the sky. Finishing her task, Alarien straightened up and caught Arwen's eye.
Together they walked through the halls and out into the courtyard where two beautiful white horses were waiting for them. Although laden with luggage and food, the horses stood tall and strong. As the elves approached, they whinnied in greeting. Each going to their particular horse, Arwen and Alarien stroked their noses and whispered sweet elven words in their ears.
They looked up to see Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel waiting to see them off. The parting was quick, Arwen did not wish to linger, for she wanted to reach shelter by nightfall. Galloping quickly, the two elves posed a beautiful sight as they raced through the golden trees. After some minutes, they moved out of the woods into the open sky. Alarien immediately felt a desire to turn around and canter straight back, but she knew she could not.
Facing her gaze to the horizon before them, she took a deep breath and began to think about what lay ahead.
* * *
The day passed by quickly, the hooves of the horses eating up the ground as they cantered and trotted across the grassy plains. They spoke intermittently together to pass the time, sometimes singing for their own pleasure, their sweet, harmonious voices rising up crystal clear into the air above and around them, so that birds nearby stopped their own singing to listen. They stopped to eat once, when the sun was high in the sky, supplementing the dried fruit, bread, cheese and salted meat with a few wafers of lembas, elvish way bread. It was an amiable meal, although short, and the horses seemed glad of the rest. As they remounted, Alarien thought how much she enjoyed riding with the warm sun on her back and the blue sky all around. She enjoyed the feel of the wind in her face and running through her hair and she knew instinctively the joy the horses were feeling to be running on such a day, with such light burdens. For indeed, the horses barely felt their weight, and the packages contained no heavy items. In the tradition of their kindred, neither elf rode with saddle, bridle or reins. They simply connected with the horse, their bodies moving in the same motions, their hands lightly holding the flowing white manes. Afternoon turned to dusk and dusk to evening. By the time the first stars had appeared, they had found shelter. A small clearing in a copse by the road they were following. There was a small, sparkling stream running through it from which they could refill their water skins. They tethered the horses and made up a small fire, not very skilfully it must be said, as neither was used to the task. Taking it in turns to watch, the long bows and arrows they had been furnished with, prior to their departure, near to hand, their short elven swords glinting at their belts. The night passed quickly and without event.
* * *
The rest of the journey passed in much the same way and soon they could see the forests of Mirkwood in the far distance. The main body of the forest did not begin for some distance, but there were small outcrops close by. They decided not to enter until they had met their escort; there were fell things rumoured to live in the forests of Mirkwood. Seeing the forest before her, Alarien began to grow homesick for Lothlórien. She was disappointed to be missing the forest in its autumn glory, but she quickly pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. As they began to near the first of the wooded outcrops there was still no sign of the escort. Arwen had already however, put on her hooded cloak, her beautiful face hidden in its shadow. She had also already made Alarien place on her head the silver circlet that she herself usually wore.
In the quiet stillness Alarien began to daydream in the elvish fashion, eyes open and alert, but mind elsewhere. Suddenly in the midst of her thought she became aware of a foul scent on the air and many presences nearby. She pulled up her horse and looking over at Arwen, saw that she had noticed the same thing. They had ridden between two of the wooded outcrops which had narrowed as they road, closing in on either side the further in they got. It was darker, although the afternoon had not yet reached dusk.
The air had a chill to it and Alarien drew her cloak closer around her. The scent on the air grew stronger and out of the corner of her eye she saw Arwen pull her bow off her shoulder and notch an arrow to its string. She copied her motions and loosened her sword in its scabbard. Silently they waited, slowly easing their horses back, away from the scent, which the horses had by now picked up. Their ears flattened and they whinnied softly. Alarien learned forward and whispered some calming words in elven into her horse's ear. All around them was quiet but suddenly they detected movement on both sides. Alarien looked down at her sword and saw the visible part glowing a bright blue. She looked at Arwen in alarm:
"Orcs!" Suddenly from all sides there came the foul creatures. There was about fifteen of them, disgusting, large, strong and well armed. The elves' retreat had been swift, but not enough and soon they were surrounded. The orcs around them advanced slowly, speeding up when Alarien and Arwen loosed a few deadly arrows into their hordes. Panic overtaking them, the elves tried to retreat, firing arrows to clear a path of escape, but the orcs had the advantage of numbers that were a match even for the deadly accuracy of the skilled archers. The closest orcs were nearly upon them, and one caught at Arwen's cloak and was dragging her off her horse.
"Alarien! Help me!" She screamed. Not really knowing what else to do, Alarien shouted some incantations in high-elven. The words seemed to frighten the orcs and they backed off a bit. But soon they realised they could win this battle and they began to advance again. One orc broke away from the main group and stole up behind Alarien who was busy cutting through the orcs in front of her, her sword flashing as it swung and cut through the rancid orc flesh. Just as the orc prepared to leap up and swing at Alarien with its stubby axe, it fell dead, an arrow through its throat. Arwen had seen it just in time. However, once again the numbers overcame them and the orcs began to drag them off their horses. Arwen and Alarien carried on fighting valiantly, but hope seemed lost. Their quivers were empty and their bows redundant. They were relying on their swords. Alarien was almost on the ground when the first arrow flew through the air and into the back of the orc closest to her. Suddenly, from all sides, arrows flew with fatal aim, the orcs dropping dead around them. Where they were coming from she couldn't see. Looking over at Arwen, Alarien saw the orc pulling her off her horse fall dead, and she pulled herself back onto her horse. Alarien however was just regaining her own seat when an orc leapt on her from behind and the momentum threw them both onto the ground. The orc landed on top of her, an arrow in its chest, but as she fell, her head hit a stone. Burning pain filled her head before she spiralled out of consciousness, the weight and stench of the orc suffocating her.
* * *
Two days passed and still Alarien did not wake up. The elves tending to her assured Arwen that she would wake up soon, the healing plants that they used had a slight sedative effect. Arwen could not shake off the worry, although she knew Alarien would be fine. She had just lost consciousness due to the knock to her head and the suffocating effect of the fallen orc. She was immensely indebted to the Mirkwood elves, for it had been their archers who had arrived only just in time to help them. They had found Alarien, or Arwen, as they now believed her to be, and carried her gently into the forest and into the palace of the king. Arwen herself had been far too distraught to take much notice of their rescuers although in the days that had followed, she had come across many and found them to be not dissimilar to the elves of Lothlórien. They were fair and pleasant, although in appearance they tended to be paler, with hair the colour of golden wheat. As she entered Alarien's chamber on the third day she found that there was more colour in her cheeks than there had been and she had a feeling that soon she would soon wake up. She decided to wait and sat by her bedside, softly singing to her friend.
* * *
A/N: Please review and tell me what you think, even if you hate it! But if you flame, try to be constructive rather than just plain rude!