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!
* * *
As she neared the palace, Alarien reflected on what she had seen, or rather felt, in forest. As she had sat, absorbed in her thoughts, she had suddenly felt another presence on the boundaries of her consciousness. However, the presence had not felt like an intrusion, more like it had always been there, and it was she who was intruding. It was slightly unnerving and she began to hurry, wanting to relate her experience with Arwen and to hear her thoughts. Soon she had reached the palace, and she went in and hurried straight to her chamber.
* * *
Still leaning against the tree, by which he had stood for some time, Legolas was also reflecting on what he had seen. He did not think he had been seen, but he knew that his presence had been felt and that was why the maiden had left. He felt guilty for having intruded on the stranger's pensive state. What was he doing? He was supposed to be meeting his possible future bride, he shouldn't be chasing an unknown, and as yet, virtually unseen, stranger. He mentally shook himself; it was most unlike him to go seeking owners for sweet voices. All the elves in Mirkwood had fair voices. But yet, he sighed, there had been something that had drawn him to it. The song was joyful, and the tone the purest he had ever heard; yet deep beneath it there was a troubled almost lamenting quality. Something in him ached to smooth out the unease. He moved away from the tree and stood by the stream, picturing the figure that had sat on his rock. He stood straight, letting the light breeze blow through his hair and onto his face. Gradually the confusion he had felt began to ease and relieved, he steeled himself to forget what had happened that day. It was just his insatiable curiosity he told himself, pretending not to hear the part of his mind that was telling him there was something more. Striding quickly away he made his way back to the palace.
* * *
Unnoticed by both Alarien and Legolas, Arwen had also been in the woods that morning. She had been coming into the palace when she had seen a figure dash past her into the woods in the same direction as she had seen Alarien go some time before from her chamber window. Going further down the corridor she had heard the prince's attendant telling another elf how his master had suddenly come running out of his chamber as if it was on fire and raced into the woods. Arwen recalled his exact words "It was almost as if he had seen a ghost!" Curious, she had turned around and followed his path, running quickly, her footsteps silent and undetectable. After wandering around for some time, she had come across the clearing where she observed Alarien sitting on the rock, and saw the tall figure watching her, although he was almost entirely hidden in the shadow. Afraid of being discovered, she had swiftly returned to the palace, a smirk on her face, to wait for Alarien's return. She did not have to wait long. With a light flush on her cheeks, Alarien rushed into her chamber to find Arwen sitting on a chair by her window looking out. She turned as she heard her friend enter the room and smiled at her, her face suddenly becoming concerned as she saw the confused expression on Alarien's face.
"Why Alarien, what is it?"
"I…I am in need of your opinion on something."
"But of course. What is it that so obviously has confused you, my friend?"
Sitting down opposite Arwen, Alarien explained to her the strange presence she had felt and why it had confused her so. Smiling, Arwen leaned across and took her hand.
"I think I may just be able to enlighten you, my dear. When I myself was wandering in the woods this morning, some time after I had seen you enter them this earlier on, I happened to see you sitting on the rock in the stream, obviously absorbed in your own thoughts. Rather than disturb you, and being on the path back to the palace I was just about to continue on my way when I saw a figure under a tree nearby, watching you. However, I could not see their face, as they were virtually hidden in the shadow. But I knew anyway who the figure was as I myself had followed them into the forest." She paused for effect before continuing, "It was none other than the Prince Legolas." Shocked and very surprised, Alarien felt a flush come to her cheeks.
"But why should he be watching me?" She asked, more confused than before.
"From what I overheard in a conversation between his attendant and another elf, I should have thought that he saw you enter the forest, and was curious to know who you were. I expect your singing drew his attention to you." Comprehension came to Alarien's face and she spoke thoughtfully.
"That was why I felt as if I was the one intruding, his presence has always been there!" Smiling at her friend, Arwen stood up, and as Alarien followed her action, placed her hands on her shoulders.
"It is now time to get ready to go down to meet the King and Prince for the celebration of our arrival. Now we shall be able to see if the rumours we heard were in fact true. Listen! There is the dressing bell, we must make haste!" They went over to the wardrobe that Alarien had discovered was full of beautiful gowns. Together they went through them to pick out the one that would become her the most.
* * *
King Thranduil was eager to make a good impression on his guest and her attendant. Like Elrond, he believed that a union between his son and the Lady Arwen would be a fine match and create a tighter link between the two realms of Rivendell and Mirkwood. His anger at finding his escort had arrived later than planned and the elf-maidens had been waylaid by orcs had caused him to rise to the occasion of the celebration even more than he usually did with distinguished guests. The main hall had been decorated with great swathes of gauzy material in bright colours that looped from a central pole attached to the ceiling to parallel points on the walls, creating a tent like effect. The light from the long window filtered through the material and cast coloured shadows on the walls. Great pots of flowers bedecked both the main table and pedestals spaced evenly around the walls, ivy twining around their bases. The fragrant smells of flowers and food filled the hall and the torches placed either side of the doors flickered with blue flame. Thranduil had come in some time before the bell was rung to survey the decorations. Pleased at the result he had summoned his son to him. He smiled as he saw Legolas enter the hall. He was immensely proud of his son, even though he was still young, he son already showed the signs of becoming a great king when the time came for him.
Legolas had already dressed for dinner, his tall figure draped in a tunic and trousers of a deep blue, decorated with silver patterns. He looked every inch a prince. As he approached his father, he bowed, his fluid ease of movement every bit as graceful as it as natural. Together, prince and king circuited the room, making sure every last detail was perfect, before going their separate ways, the king to his chamber, and Legolas to the courtyard by his chamber. He had some time before the dinner bell would be rung and wished to let off a few arrows. The next week was the Mirkwood archery and other weaponry competition and he did not wish to lose the title he had kept for so many years. There was, as always, a target set up in the far corner of the grassy courtyard. Legolas had specifically requested it to be left there at all times. He often went there to let off anger by doing some archery practice, his favourite sport. Taking the bow he had fetched from his chamber on the way off his back, he took up his stance and notched an arrow to the string. He paused for a moment, lining up his aim, before letting go. The arrow had found its mark, in the very centre of the target. He stayed there until finally, after about half an hour, the bell rang for dinner. As he stopped by his chamber on the way to the main hall to put his bow and quiver away, he found that he was apprehensive. That's odd, he thought, why should I be nervous about meeting someone I'm probably not even going to like? But he knew that, whether or not he would like the Lady Arwen, he would still have to try his best to make a good impression. Closing his door behind him, he made his way to the hall.
* * *
By the time Arwen and Alarien arrived, the majority of the guests were already seated around the long table. The King and prince had not yet arrived and relieved that they were not late, they were shown to their seats. Alarien was seated near to the head of the table, close to where she assumed Thranduil and Legolas would be sitting. To her dismay she found that Arwen would not be sitting anywhere near her, she was at the other end with the more important household staff. For the occasion, Arwen had replaced her hooded cloak with a veil that covered her face. As she took her place she smiled reassuringly at the nervous Alarien, who was taking her place at the opposite end of the table. The gown they had eventually chosen for Alarien was a flowing, shimmering silver, embroidered with a pattern in emerald thread. The belt was a darker silver chord and was tied neatly at the side, the tasselled ends hanging down. The combination of colours enhanced her own natural beauty and her eyes seemed to shine more than ever. Her long, dark hair lay silkily down her back, its soft waves shining. She looked just like a princess. No sooner had they say down than the heralds were announcing the King and his sons, and they stood up as they walked in. Thranduil moved to his place at the head of the table and picked up his golden cup, already filled with wine, to make a toast.
"My dear friends. We are gathered in such wonderful company tonight to welcome our distinguished guest from Lothlórien, Lady Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, granddaughter of the Lady Galadriel. Let us make her as welcome here as possible. To the Lady Arwen!" The people gathered round the table echoed his last sentence, much to the embarrassment of a blushing Alarien, before taking their seats. She heard someone taking the seat next to her and turning round she found herself looking into the face of one of the princes. Having never met either, Alarien was not sure which son he was, and felt herself become tongue tied before the prince took her hand, brought it to his lips and bestowed a kiss to it.
"I am Prince Landir, I am charmed to meet you at last Lady Arwen." Mentally thanking him, she bowed her head in a gesture of recognition.
"I am equally charmed, thank you." At that point, the elf on the other side of Landir engaged him in conversation and she was able to look at him more openly. He was fair of face, with very pale skin and almost grey eyes. His long hair, braided at the sides was a light chestnut colour. Although it was hard to tell, as he was sitting down, he looked as though he would be quite tall. As she turned away from him to look at the elves around her, she immediately made eye contact with the elf sitting opposite her, at the King's right hand. Her emerald eyes were locked into the gaze of a pair of ocean blue ones. She drew in her breath quickly, for the eyes were bestowed in the most perfect face she had ever seen. His features looked as though the gods themselves had carved them, with his high cheekbones, soft jaw line, liquid blue eyes and shapely mouth. She dwelled for a moment on that mouth, with its soft lips drawn into a half smile. His silky, golden hair hung straight down to the centre of his back, with thin braids pulling it behind his delicately pointed ears. She could feel herself blushing but she couldn't tear herself away from those eyes, their gaze seemed to pull her deep into them, looking right into her soul. She felt herself falling deeper and deeper into them until she heard a voice cutting through the link that had seemed to form between the two sets of eyes.
"Legolas my son, have you yet introduced yourself to the Lady Arwen?" The king looked at his son and smiled. He knew he could trust him to be on his best behaviour. Alarien looked down at her hands as she felt her shyness creeping over her. She wondered which one the prince was and who this mysterious elf was and was about to ask Landir when she saw a hand being extended to her across the table. It belonged to the same elf that she had been visually engaged with only a moment ago.
"Prince Legolas, my Lady. I am happy to finally make your acquaintance." He was smiling fully now, his shapely mouth curved in such a way that it seemed to make his whole face light up, making him even more awe-inspiring than before.
"It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Prince Legolas." She stammered.
"No, it is my pleasure to look upon such a face as yours." Blushing slightly, she smiled and held out her own hand and he too, placed a kiss upon it. She felt a shiver run down her back at the touch of those lips on her skin, and to her surprise heard a chuckle from across the table.
"Why, you seem to be shaking slightly my Lady, you are not cold I hope?" He looked at her quizzically, his eyes searching her face, one eyebrow raised.
"No, I am not cold thank you."
"You must be nervous then. Please, feel at ease, I myself am not good with strangers, I hope we shall not be strangers for long." She returned his smile and was thinking of something to say when the food began to arrive at the table. As the serving staff placed the food in front of the guests, the King himself engaged her in conversation. She felt her nervousness dissipate as she laughed with the king. His easy manner put her at ease immediately. Her thoughts however returned to the prince. She had not really spoken to him, but he had been kind and tried to put her at ease and he did not seem to be arrogant or self-centred as the rumours had said, but then, she couldn't really judge just yet.
From across the table, Legolas watched her talk with his father. He could feel her becoming more at ease as she became more animated in her conversation, every now and then smiling in such a way that made his heart leap in his chest. Now that he knew who the mysterious maiden he had been following was, he found himself hardly surprised. Indeed, he chided himself for not guessing sooner, for somehow he felt that all along he had known the stranger had not belonged to Mirkwood. Something deep inside hoped that one day she would, and surprised at himself, he turned his gaze away from the beautiful vision sitting so close to him, though it felt as though there was still miles between them. The one thing that had surprised him was her timid manner. It was all at once endearing and vulnerable, nothing at all like the vain, confidant maiden he had expected. He looked over at his brother who, having ended his conversation with his neighbour, was looking sideways at the Lady. Legolas felt something defensive stir inside him and he had a sudden urge to put himself between his brother and the Lady. He definitely didn't like the way he was staring at her so openly.
Feeling someone watching him, Landir turned and saw his brother staring at him, his eyes stormy. He smirked and smiled smugly at his brother. Moving his chair a fraction closer to the Lady. He laughed inside to himself, those eyes of his might well be fair, but they were like a window to his emotions, his dislike of the way he had been looking at Arwen was written all over them. He noticed that she had finished talking with his father and saw that Legolas was about to engage her in conversation, leaning slightly across the table. Well, he would get there first! He tapped her on the shoulder and was rewarded by a smiling vision of beauty. Despite himself, he felt a rush of pleasure at beholding her. He began to ask her questions, finding himself more and more enchanted by her. Every now and then she would smile and it would light up her whole face and was so infectious that it made him smile as well. As she answered his questions she would gesture to help in her descriptions of things, her long slender hands moving gracefully. His pleasure was ever more increased by what his sideways glances at his brother found. To him, Legolas looked furious, perhaps even jealous?
Indeed he was very angry. He knew that he brother was only doing it to irritate him, but Legolas also knew that Landir could tell it was working. To his surprise, he could also feel stabs of jealousy. His confusion of emotions made him retreat into himself and he gave up trying to make sense of them. Leaning back, he watched her and tried to ignore the fact that the one she was bestowing those smiles on was Landir.
* * *
A/N: Feedback is nice, so please click on that little button and make my day!