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!
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Blinking painfully, Alarien opened her eyes, but cried out in pain at the bright light. Her whole head ached with a dull pain. She noticed a shadow move in front of the window and pull in the shutters. She opened her eyes fully and saw it was Arwen, judging by the grace of movement, as she was still wearing her hooded cloak. Alarien smiled to see her friend well, she couldn't really remember what had happened, and suddenly she noticed her surroundings. She was lying in a square chamber, its one window facing out over the forest. The room was cool and lightly but elegantly furnished. A thin, almost-transparent white curtain, spotted here and there with an embroidered star in silver cotton, shrouded her bed. There was a door opposite her bed, which she assumed led to Arwen's chamber, as the main door was to the left. Turning, Arwen saw her sit up and rub at her head.
"Dear friend. I was so worried about you. You were on your horse one minute, and the next, you were gone. I thought you had been captured, but then I saw your hand lying on the ground. It was the only bit I could see, the rest of you was under that orc.
I came in to see if you had awoken yet, as they had said you would. If I am going to be you, I am going to do it properly!"
"Arwen, you speak of they, but who is it that you refer to?"
"Why, the Mirkwood elves. We are greatly in their debt my friend, for it was their arrows that saved us from the orcs. It was them who carried you here and tended to you so skilfully. Indeed, they have helped us immensely." She sat down and began to bathe Alarien's head with warm water infused with a healing plant. The water was fragrant and eased the pain greatly. The cut she had suffered on the side of her head had almost healed, and thanks to the skill of the elven doctors, it would leave no scar.
"Do you think yourself well enough to perhaps get up today? Or perhaps you would like to remain in bed, Lady Arwen?" She smiled as Alarien shot her a disapproving look. "From now on, in the company of others, you will address me as Alarien, and I will refer to you as Lady Arwen." She drew her hood more tightly around her face and turned to the window as she heard light footsteps approaching the chamber. An elf-maiden entered, she was small for her kind, yet still slender, and her honey coloured hair hung in a braid down her back. She performed a graceful curtsey to a surprised Alarien who was sitting up in her bed.
"Will the Lady Arwen be rising today? The King wishes to know so that he may prepare for a celebration to welcome you properly to Mirkwood." Her voice was pleasant and soft. Alarien smiled at her and replied:
"Yes, thank you. I will indeed be rising today. I should very much like to take a short walk into the woods, for it has been many days since I have seen a forest."
"Yes my Lady." The elf curtseyed again and left the room, closing the door behind her. As the door closed, Arwen turned back from the window.
"I think it best of I do not accompany you today. I have other business to attend to, as well as finding out as much about Prince Legolas as I can. Much as I hate to admit it, I am curious to see if the rumours are true or not!" She saw Alarien looking doubtful so she continued. "Besides, handmaidens do not accompany their mistresses everywhere." Alarien smiled and watched as Arwen left her alone to get dressed. She knew that Arwen was right; they didn't want to draw too much attention to themselves. She flung back the covers and swung her long, slender legs over the side of the bed.
She had been dressed in a soft, white nightgown and it swished against her calves as she walked over to her chair where a gown had been laid out for her. It was of a bright leafy green that brought out her eyes and its silver thread contrasted beautifully with her dark hair. She put it on and sat in front of the mirror and carefully brushed her silky hair. Lastly she placed the silver circlet on her head. The gown was so becoming to her natural beauty that nobody who saw her would guess that she wasn't the legendary beauty that she was pretending to be. She slid her feet into the silver slippers that someone, possibly the elf that had come in just before, had put out for her. Taking a deep breath, she left the chamber.
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Prince Legolas was not well pleased. He paced quickly round his chamber, reflecting on the events of the past few days. He could not possibly fathom how their visitors could have gained a positive first impression of Mirkwood. The escort his father had promised had arrived later than planned and subsequently left the two elf-maidens almost completely defenceless against the band of orcs that had waylaid them. They had arrived only just in time before something worse had happened. As it was, the Lady Arwen had been injured and had not yet awoken, although the elf-healers had assured him that she would soon be well. Legolas suspected that he knew why the escort had been late. His younger brother, Landir had been in charge, and the prince knew that his jealous brother would do anything to make him look bad. Legolas sighed, he knew he shouldn't jump to such conclusions, but having endured endless years of the almost constant snide remarks from his brother, it now just tired him. It troubled him to know that, without knowing it, he had given his brother some reason to hate him.
Walking over to his window, he looked out into the forests. He breathed in the cool air of the forest and exhaled slowly. Legolas was not so happy about meeting his prospective bride either. Rumour had reached him of a vain, selfish maiden. Although he knew better than to form an opinion based on rumours, he couldn't help but think there must be some reason or truth in them. The similar rumours that had reached the ears of Arwen and Alarien were equally as unfounded as those Legolas had heard. For though he was fairer of face than even the measure of their kind, he was neither arrogant nor self-obsessed. He was kind, compassionate and fair in judgement. He was immensely loyal to his father and obeyed his every order to the word. His easy, friendly manner had gained him a large group of friends and an equally large band of admirers, although he was oblivious to the existence of the latter. His expertise on swordplay and archery gained him the respect and admiration of many, and his wise counsel drew to him many elves seeking his advice. He was well loved throughout the kingdom and his mere presence commanded respect and honour. To Landir it seemed that no matter what he did, he would always be second best to Legolas, even in their father's eyes. The praise and affection Thranduil showered openly on his elder brother caused him to be bitter and resentful, not seeing the love that his father felt for him too. It wasn't that Landir was unpopular, he just tended to mix with less desirable elves who, like himself, harboured ill feelings towards Legolas. However, all this was unknown to Legolas. His one fault being that although he was able to perceive everything that went on around him, he often failed to see what was in front of his face. Subsequently he could not understand his father's tired exasperated manner of late, and his brother's hurtful maliciousness. Legolas was just straightening up and moving away from the window when a song reached his ears, floating on the cool breeze. The voice was the most perfect sound he had ever heard and he rushed over to the window and leaned out, so as to behold the source of the beautiful song. His gaze swept across the ground beneath his window and suddenly he saw a movement in the corner of his left eye. He glanced over just in time to see a figure turning into the forest. He watched as the singer's dark hair shone in the sun, light glinting on the silver circlet she wore on her head. Her green gown merged with the colour of the trees as she disappeared from view. As he backed away from the window, Legolas realised that he hadn't breathed since he had first heard the song and he took a few well-needed breaths.
Without really thinking what he was doing, he rushed out of his chamber, desperate to behold more clearly this curious maiden. As he sped out of his chamber, he collided with his servant, Falaborn. Calling his apologies over his shoulder to the dazed elf, he continued down the corridor.
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Wandering slowly through the forest, being careful to stay within the view of the palace, Alarien looked around herself, admiring the lushness of the part of the wood she was in. Dark purple, almost black, (or were they black?) butterflies flew around her and she heard birds answering her as she sang, her sweet voice bringing joy to the hearts of those creatures that heard her. She came to a bubbling stream, its flow interrupted by several small stones leading across it to a large stone with a flat top in the very middle. She jumped lightly across to the large stone and found it was just large enough to sit on. She crossed her legs and sat with her back straight, facing away down the stream, the water splashing at her feet. The sounds of nature were all around her and the warm air seemed to lull her troubled mind. Letting herself relax, she fell into a meditative state, completely still and silent, hardly seeming to breathe. The green light filtering through the thick canopy cast an unearthly glow on her as she sat. Such was the view that Prince Legolas beheld as he stumbled across her, in his favourite spot. Not daring to disturb what he wasn't entirely sure was real; he backed out of sight behind a tree. All the time she sat there unmoving, occasionally humming softly, he watched her, hardly daring to breathe for fear of disturbing her reverie. He had come across her quite unexpectedly. When he had entered the forest, she had stopped singing and he could not find any evidence to show where she had gone. So, not just a little disappointed, he had gone to his favourite spot, only to find it occupied by the very being he had looking for. However, she was still facing away from him, and as he was considering moving to see her better, she raised her head, suddenly aware of a presence close by. She stood up and jumped back across the stream, onto the other bank. Moving away from him, she walked swiftly into the forest and was gone.
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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!