A r w e n e l l a

Thank you guys SO MUCH for the reviews you've been giving me! tackles everyone Thank you! You don't know how much this means to me! Anyway, more chapters are coming your way. Just keep reviewing, and before you know it this story will be complete (oh, I delight in the idea. I have some other FanFictions I want to get working on, but first I have some work to do...this one!). Enjoy! .::Meggin::.

NOTE: Everything in this story is FICTION. Yes, I took some of Tolkien's work and changed it a little bit so everything would blend in with the story. So if you spot something, please don't point it out (oh my goodness, that's the wrong location...oh my goodness, that's not what happened!). I purposely changed it in order to blend it in with the story. Thanks for your cooperation.

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Chapter Seven- The Ranger
The heavy rain abated into a small, light drizzle. The sky above was the blackest of black, with the specks of stars scattered. The pale moon shone down upon the ground, guiding the path of the elven maiden, who was winding her way intricately through the trees, picking up her skirts as not to ruin her dress. Like a wisp of wind she ran, and the only panicked thought on her mind was to get away- as far away as possible.

Arwen hastily brushed away a tear. Her breathing became labored. After a few more minutes her muscles ached agonizingly, and she tripped on a tree root, and fell. Using the palms of her hands she stopped her fall before the moist leaves touched her dress. She clutched the bark of the tree to support herself as she scrambled back up, weeping.

"Where am I?" she whispered to herself, swiveling her head about, looking at her surroundings. "I'm lost. I'm lost," she moaned to herself. "I'll never make it to the Ball now." Picking a fairly dry spot in the grass, she took a seat on the forest floor. "Calm down, Arwen. You'll find your way out. Don't worry." Her voice was shaky. I'll never find my way out, she thought miserably. I'm lost. How could I be so stupid? Running away wouldn't have solved anything.

For the longest time Arwen sat there, trying to think of a plan. She had no clue where she was. She had no clue which direction she ran, and how far away it was from home. She had no clue which way it was to the Mirkwood, so making it to the Ball was hopeless as well.

But she did know one thing. She was betrayed.

"What pathetic, disgusting, self-centered...pigs!" Arwen yelled, banging her fists into the trunk of a nearby tree to release her anger. It felt good. "How could I have been so gullible? Of course they wouldn't have let me gone. Cinder girl?" She stood up defiantly. "I am no Cinder girl!" She spat on the ground wickedly. Have I gone mad? She thought to herself.

She spent the next few minutes thinking of names to describe her wicked stepmother and stepsister. 'Pigs' was number one on the list. 'Moldy lembas bread.' 'Milk gone two years past the expiration date' was a pretty good one too. Arwen cringed at the idea, and smiled at herself, feeling much better.

Suddenly she heard a voice. Arwen's keen ears picked up the sound immediately. She stopped thinking of names and strained to hear what it was.

It was a male voice, sort of low, and husky.

Arwen's first intention was to run away, the opposite direction. This guy could be a madman. On the second thought, this guy could give her directions. Which was better?

She liked the directions idea better. Arwen stood up and fixed her hair, and her dress. First impressions counted.

The mellow voice drifted nearer, and Arwen could catch some of the elvish words spoken. Lúthien Tinúviel. Beren. Neldoreth. She closed her eyes and listened to the words. She recognized the legend of the elf-kind and the mortal, who fell in love with each other, that even mortality couldn't stop them. It was a beautiful song.

Unknowingly, Arwen stepped forward, lured to the voice. She walked carefully over the roots and brambles, opening her eyes to try and see who was singing.

The singing stopped, and the moving shadow in the trees did as well. Arwen halted, and held her breath, fixing her eyes on the dark figure.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and he stepped forward, towards Arwen. She could see him better now, but the shadows hid his face. He was tall, clad in dark garments. A sword was slung at his side. Arwen squinted, and picked up two horses beside the man as well. For a moment she was scared, but gathering up all the courage within her, she took a step forward, reaching her hand out.

"Tinúviel," the man called out.

Arwen could contain her curiosity no longer.

"Hey! Yo!" she called out. "Who are you?" she stopped to catch her breath. "And why did you call me that name?"

The man stepped forward, into the moonlight, revealing his face at last. Arwen gasped, taken aback. He was fairly young, and not of elf-kind. He was ruggedy looking, with dark hair that cascaded around his serious, kind face- broad shouldered, and blue-eyed. Arwen suspected him to be a ranger of some sort. For no reason she blushed in his presence, and was at the same time grateful. Perhaps she had hope of making it to the Ball after all.

He bowed down. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I am Isildur's heir." He stepped closer, appearing to be inspecting Arwen's face carefully. "I called you Tinúviel, because you certainly walk in her likeness. Beauty such as yours is precious." He stooped down to pick up something.

Arwen blushed even more at this compliment, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Please, tell me who you are," Aragorn urged.

Arwen took a deep breath. "We are akin from afar. I am Arwen, also known as Undómiel. I am Lord Elrond's daughter."

Aragorn raised an eyebrow, his interest roused. "You are Elrond's daughter? I have heard much of your brothers, but I never knew of you. No one ever told me. What does he do, lock you up in your chamber?" He paused. "You were crying." Her red nose gave it away.

Arwen laughed. "Oh, never mind that. And no, he doesn't lock me up. I came to Rivendell a few months ago. I was staying with my grandmother's people, Galadriel, in Lothlorien for a while. I have come back for my regular visit. You have heard of my father's new wife, have you not? Lady Uggalflaed?" She shuddered. "She's horrible." She pondered on whether she should tell of what happened at home, and her treatment. She decided against it. She wouldn't tell, not until she came to know this man better.

"Yes, I have. The news traveled fast. A bit surprising, if you ask me. I never expected him to marry again." A grin flickered on his face. "Horrible? In what way?"

Arwen couldn't help herself. Everything spilled out, from Delia, to the unfair treatment of making her an official servant in her own palace.

"Why didn't you write Elrond and tell him?" Aragorn walked back into the shadows, emerging with the two horses. "Jeez, that's like, abuse. I bet if he heard of this he'd come back and divorce Uggalflaed."

"I know." Arwen sighed. "It's just...I don't want to upset Father when he comes back. We had an agreement. I want to keep that agreement." She took a deep breath. "I'm just going to have to wait a bit longer."

Aragorn shook his head. She could tell that he strongly disagreed, like Lorain. But he didn't argue back. Instead he stepped forward, placed the reigns of the dappled gray mare into her hands.

"If you want to make it in time for the Ball, we're going to have to leave now, Lady." His hand lingered close to hers. "I mean, now. If we leave any later you'd be late." He dropped the reigns into her hands, and the warmth of his touch was gone. He spoke gently into her ear. "I know how much this means to you."

Arwen stood, staring at the reigns in her hand, and nodded. "All right." She stroked the horse's mane, and hitched herself up.

"That is Eolina," Aragorn commented, climbing on top of his own horse, a stallion. "A fine horse, and a gift from the Rohirrim. I will have to return her soon. She was merely loaned."

Arwen smiled, her hand still gently stroking her steed's head. "You're- you're sure you know the way, right?" What a stupid question, Arwen thought to herself, embarrassed. Of course he does. Duh. He's a ranger.

 "Yes. It will be a long ride." He winked at her, and started his horse in a light trot. "But you're sitting on top of one of the fastest horses."

"I'm encouraged," Arwen replied, smiling.

"Just follow me." Aragorn rode ahead, just a few feet in front of Arwen.

Arwen stared into her lap. "Aragorn?"

The ranger gave a grunt from ahead. Arwen swallowed nervously.

"Um, this is a good thing you're doing for me. I'd just like to say...thanks. It...it means a lot." Arwen stared at the sky. Was she attracted?

Possibly. Arwen fidgeted nervously.

"No problem. That's what I'm here for."

The horses were forced into a gallop. There was no time to waste. They spent the next hour talking, slowly bonding and creating a friendship. Arwen slowly fell for him. Legolas was completely off her mind, all she could think about was this interesting ranger. The few hours after that were spent in silence, as Arwen had drifted off into sleep. They stopped quickly for breakfast, and continued on their way.

In almost no time they were at the Old Ford, nearing the Edge of Mirkwood. Even from a long distance, the lights and festivity could be seen, laughter and music could he heard.

Arwen had fallen asleep again. Aragorn trotted up to her, and gently touched her hand.

Her eyes flickered open. "BWA!" she yelped. "Oh." She breathed a sigh of relief. "It's you. Are we almost there yet?" Aragorn released her hand, and stared ahead. Arwen's skin tingled from the touch.

"We're almost there, Lady."

A smile spread on her face. "This is wonderful!" She gasped. "Aragorn!" He glanced at her. "Do you have...do you have something I can use, to cover my face? To hide my identity?"

"Why?"

"I don't want my stepsisters to know I'm there. Or Lady Uggalflaed. Keep in mind, they think I'm at home right now. They'd freak out if they saw me, dancing with the Prince." Legolas! She had forgotten all about him. "At least, I hope to get a dance with him. It's...all I've ever hoped for."

Aragorn shrugged, and pulled something out of his pack. "It's from your dress," he said, to Arwen's surprise. "It ripped off. I don't know why I kept it. Could be of use." He reached out and gave it to her.

"Thanks." She draped it across her face, like a translucent veil. "How do I look?"

Aragorn smiled. "Beautiful."

Arwen blushed again. "You're not just saying that?"

"Of course not."

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A shorter chapter, I know. Please review! I'm counting on ya'll! .::Meggin::.