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!
Oh and don't bother sending me complaints about how this is like such and such, and is a Mary-sue or whatever. If you don't like it, don't read it! I couldn't give a flying f**k if you think it's crap! (That's not to say anyone has said that, I was just giving a pre-emptive warning, coz I've seen what some people write in flames, and they are just way harsh.)
Thanks to all those who have reviewed, I'm sending out happy vibes to you all!
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After the meal in which Alarien had mostly been engaged in conversation with the younger prince and his father, as well as some of the elf-maidens sitting near her, the higher ranked household staff bowed their thanks and left to attend to their duties. Arwen was among them. It was not fitting for her, in her guise as a handmaiden, to stay, but Alarien appeared to be coping and she wasn't worried. Alarien herself, on the other hand, was finding it hard not to let her eyes stray back to the face of the elder prince who she could feel watching her every now and then. She had to keep reminding herself that whether or not he was as the rumours had said, she did not want to endanger the secret between herself and Arwen, and that meant acting cool and aloof whenever the elder prince did try to engage her attention. She could not shrug off the guilt she felt at snubbing someone who had done no wrong to her, but she pushed it out of her mind, her duty to Arwen was the most important thing.
Dancing followed the meal, with elven musicians providing the accompaniment. As she got up she felt a tap on her shoulder, and, spinning around, found herself face to face with the elder of the two princes. Before she could think of an excuse to refuse, he had asked her to dance, and annoyed with herself, she accepted. At least Arwen was not here to see. One hand on her elbow, he gently guided her into the centre of the room. Alarien saw the king looking at them over the shoulder of the elf her was talking to. He was smiling approvingly and nodded his head as he caught her eye. She returned the gesture before turning to face Legolas. She wondered what the first dance would be. Oh please don't let it be a free dance! She thought. At least if it is a set dance, I will not have to be with him for the whole thing! Unfortunately for her, the musicians began to play a slow, waltzing tune. Her sense of unease began to creep over her as she found the close presence of the prince was causing her heart to beat quickly in her chest. Looking up at him she found that he was no more than half a head taller than herself, he was not as tall as his brother evidently, but still of surprisingly athletic build, lean and strong, though not as obviously muscular like his brother. He reached out and took her right hand in his left and placed the other gently on her waist. She placed her other hand on his shoulder, surprised despite herself at its firmness. Trying not to enjoy the feel of his hand on her waist and encasing her own, she concentrated on the movements. As they danced, their bodies naturally moving together to the music, Alarien felt herself relaxing, he didn't seem to want to talk to her, he appeared to her quiet and reflective. She concerned herself with not looking into his angelic face; she knew if she did, she would not be able to tear her gaze away from his.
Legolas was indeed in a quiet and reflective mood. As a rule, he liked to let his actions speak for him, but laughing inside, he didn't think that any of the actions he was thinking about now would be very appropriate. Besides, the way she had coolly answered his questions at dinner, with short sharp answers that gave little away, and the fact that she had made no attempt to engage him in conversation made him think that perhaps she would not appreciate those actions either. Her aloofness both enthralled and confused him. He was not used to finding resistance from maidens, though he never took for granted the fact that he could have any that he wished, but somehow the challenge seemed to appeal to him. He felt somehow that her coolness was not natural; something was causing her to hold back from him, she had certainly not been holding back in her conversation with his brother, he thought, and a bitter stab of jealousy pierced his heart. He realised that in his pensive state, he was forgetting to appreciate the fact that he was in fact currently engaged in a dance with her. He let himself relax, enjoying the feel of her slender hands on his shoulder and inside his own. The two hands seemed to him to fit together as though they had been designed for that purpose. When the dance came to an end and they broke apart, far too soon he thought to himself, he reached out a hand and tilted her face up, her emerald eyes reluctantly meeting his sapphire ones.
"Thank you. It was a pleasure." She did not answer, but curtseyed gracefully. He turned and walked away. His brother, who had been waiting bitterly for their dance to finish, immediately engaged her and Legolas gained a large amount of pleasure from the fact that the next dance was a set dance. However, that pleasure quickly dissipated as he saw her smiling and laughing with his brother. What does this mean? He thought. She has come here for the purpose of meeting me, and yet, she seems far more interested in my brother! He knew he should accept the fact that she was not interested in him, but still something inside him told him that there was more to her coolness than disinterestedness or dislike.
As she danced with Landir, Alarien caught Legolas looking at them and was saddened to find his eyes clouded with confusion. She knew that it would be inevitable if she was to snub him as was necessary, but she had not expected her friendship to mean so much to him. Besides, despite herself, she couldn't stop thinking about how natural it had felt dancing with him, and the connection that formed between them every time she looked into his eyes. She remembered how she had been both pleased and disappointed when their dance had ended. She wondered if he felt…No! She thought angrily, do not wonder what he thinks, it could never be. He would not even look at you if he knew who you really were. Her thoughts seemed to make far more sense than her feelings, but she still felt as though she needed to escape for a while. When the dance, her third with Landir, ended, she curtseyed gracefully and excused herself. Disappearing through the doors at the side that she had seen led onto a balcony, pulling the curtain that covered the opening aside as she went through, she was immediately met by a blast of cool evening air. The balcony was large, the size of a good-sized room, and had a railing just a bit higher than her waist all around it. Stepping further out, she shivered slightly and rubbed her arms to warm them. She took a few deep breaths of the crisp, fresh air and walked over to lean on the railing She jumped slightly as she heard a voice from her left.
"You appear to be shivering again, Lady Arwen. But this time I fear, it is due to the cold."
Turning to face the direction of the voice she felt an immediate flash of dismay: it was Legolas. She had not heard the curtains move, so he must have been here before her. He walked over to her carrying his own cloak that he had taken off. She did not protest as he draped it over her shoulders, she was cold after all, and it would seem rude.
"Thank you." She whispered. She looked into his face and instantly regretted it. Once more she was being held captive in his eyes. She felt them searching her own, as though using them as a window into her soul. Panic stricken she imagined that he would guess her secret and wrenching her eyes away she broke his gaze. But it was too late. Legolas' perceptive eyes, which had indeed been searching in her own, had detected the fact that her aloofness was not natural, but deliberate. Relieved that he was not at fault, he decided not to ask her about it. She would change if she got to know him, he was almost sure of it. He was, however, curious to know about Lothlórien and what it looked like, and despite herself, she found herself giving him long and detailed answers, telling him about her own favourite walks and places. In return she asked him questions and he responded in the same way, though choosing to omit the description of his own favourite place that she had already visited earlier that day. Losing track of time, they talked lengthily and for some time, each giving the other their full attention. The King noticed their absences and assumed, rightly, that they were together. He felt pleased that things were going so well, though in fact, to Alarien, things were not exactly going to plan. Suddenly interrupted in their conversation, Legolas and Alarien turned simultaneously at the sound of the curtains being pulled aside and Landir moved into the light. He nodded curtly to Legolas, flashing him a distasteful look, and bowed low to Alarien.
"I trust that the night air has done you good, my Lady. Would you care to dance?" She accepted immediately, suddenly realising that she had been gone for some time. She removed Legolas' cloak from her shoulders and as she handed it to him, their fingers brushed and she felt a shiver at the touch. He did not seem to notice and there was no sign on his face that he had felt it. Accepting the arm Landir offered her, she went back inside, kicking herself mentally for succumbing to Legolas's politeness and charm. She had let her defence down and now she had put herself in a bad position.
She could not suddenly go back to being aloof, that would look extremely odd, so, she decided, she would just have to be friendly, and no more. No more! She thought again to herself, emphasising the words.
Legolas watched her leave on the arm of his brother. He had noticed Landir's displeasure at finding her with him, even if she hadn't. However, he didn't really care. He now knew that Arwen's apparent coolness had been a front, a defence, but against what he did not know. Neither did he know the reason for it, though he suspected that his brother might have had something to do with it. He remained on the balcony for some time after she left, letting the cool air wash over him, recalling the animated way she had talked about her home. It was clear that she loved it dearly; he found a part of him wishing that one day she would talk about him like that. He realised that he was thinking far ahead of himself, so far he had only had one conversation with her. And yet, every time she had touched him he had felt something stir in his heart. Yes, no matter how he looked at it, he was definitely attracted to her. But so, he feared, was Landir.
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