Woo, thanks for all the reviews! Most of you seem to like it, that's good. I really appreciate them all. Thanks very much.

Ok, so here's chapter 3 of Beauties. I have to admit, Anaróre is getting kinda Mary-Sueish. Sorry…

It's just the way it's worked out. I'll see what I can do.

Faerlain

Vera-Sabe – Wow! Now that is what you call a review! I understand what you mean about the relationship between Legolas and Anaróre going too fast. And have I updated quickly enough for you? Cos I kinda fear your wrath…

It'll be cool if you do go look at me other stories I would be very much obliged. Ta! Thanks for reviewing.

Rayame325 – I don't expect he does like wearing dresses! Lol. Glad you liked it! Thanks for reviewing.

Sanosuke Hidane – Woo, positive feedback! Maybe Legolas has PMT. You never know! Lol Thank for reviewing.

Ms. Unknown – Glad you liked the start. Thanks for reviewing.

So I am – Cheers to you too! Thanks for reviewing.

Dandy Dan – Well sorry!

Antiquiya – Well you certainly know how to put a girl in her place don't you? Not being rude or anything. I completely understand about what you said. But really, this is just fiction. I know that Tolkien deserves respect, and I do respect him, greatly, for he was an amazing man. But personally, I haven't actually seen any other fics with this storyline. The idea just came to me and I wrote it down. I take Lord of the Rings seriously, but I just like to make up my own stories based around the storyline. To keep exactly to the plot is respectful in many ways, but surely changing it a bit isn't totally bad?

Ok, long reply to a long review! You're probably not even gonna see this because you're probably not reading any more of Beauties, but thanks anyway for your review, and I have taken what you sad into careful consideration. At least you weren't rude.

DaydreamingTurtle – Anaróre is great and I love her! Quite a few people don't but that's up to them. Thanks for reviewing. And you sound nice and individual, just like me!

Tiara Shin – This is soon. Yeah, long wait yet aain1 Sorry. I'm completely bogged under with work, no joke. Eww… pea soup! Hi Haldy! Both wave. Thanks for reviewing, and speak soon.

Mesozoic Flower – Haldir is a dude! Lol. Mmm…toned… Thanks for reviewing!

merrymagic26 – You liked the song? Ok, cool! Took me ages! Thanks for reviewing.

ElvenStar5 – I liked that bit too! Thanks for reviewing.

Orlando's Hot Chick – You keep the name! Someone has to have it. And I guess you deserve it. Thanks for reviewing.

Chapter 3: My Word.

The next day, Anaróre was looking for Andúnë. But no matter where she looked, she couldn't find her anywhere. She finally gave up, and sat beneath a mallorn, examining her bow.

Merry and Pippin were also wandering around. The rest of the Fellowship were all off doing their own thing. Aragorn and Boromir were sparring together, Frodo and Sam were taking a walk together somewhere, Gimli was watching Aragorn and Boromir, giving hints and tips, and Legolas had completely disappeared.

"He's probably practising his archery Pip," Merry told his cousin. "You know what he's like."

"I know, but I want to hear another one of his stories."

"Stop harassing him all the time. He needs time alone as well you know."

Anaróre heard voices getting nearer. She stood, and peered around the tree. She grinned. Hobbits!

She waited for them to reach her, and then stepped into their path and smiled at them. "Hello little masters," she said cheerily. "Walking alone today?"

"Yes miss," one of them replied, bowing his head to her. "Everyone else seems to be busy."

"Well, I'm all alone. Why don't we go for a walk together? I want to hear all about the Shire."

Their faces lit up. "Of course miss," the other replied. "We'd love to tell you about the Shire."

"Great, well let's go then!"

They walked down the path together, and the two young Hobbits launched into tales of their homeland. Anaróre listened intently, asking many questions, and answering any of theirs.

They eventually came to a small clearing, and there, they sat down to rest. It was then the Hobbits turn to ask all the questions, about Anaróre, Lothlórien, and Elves in general. She answered them all as best she could, laughing at some of their responses.

"Its such a beautiful place here my Lady," the one called Merry said as they were sat down. "I would love to come here again."

"Maybe, after this War, you will be able to," she told him, smiling. "I know you would be most welcome."

"Both of us?" Pippin asked.

She nodded. "Of course. We can't just have one of you two. You come as a duo, a team. One is not complete without the other."

They laughed. "Do you have a best friend Lady Anaróre?" Merry asked.

"Yes, she is called Andúnë. But I have absolutely no idea where she has disappeared to. I haven't seen her for days."

"Does she go out on patrol?"

"Occasionally, but I know she definitely isn't out there today. Because I would be with her if she was. We never go alone, not with all the male Elves around." She grinned. "Get my meaning?"

They grinned back. "Aye, we do," Pippin answered. "Well, if Lady Andúnë is anything like you Miss, then I'm sure she is very nice."
"Aww, thank you Pippin!" She placed a soft kiss on his tiny cheek. Then to be fair, she gave one to Merry as well. They all laughed together again.

Take…notch…aim...fire…take…notch…aim…fire…take…notch…aim…fire…

Arrow after arrow embedded itself deep into the target Legolas was ferociously firing at. His pace never altered, his speed not faltering. He stood like a statue, the only movement being his arms reaching for arrows, or pulling the bowstring back. His eyes were slightly squinted as he focused on the centre of the target, that being his aim.

Soon his quiver was empty, and he finally stopped. He lowered his bow, letting it drop to the ground. He sunk to his knees, and knelt there, the only sound being his breathing, slow and heavy. He shut his eyes, blocking out the sunlight. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and he forced himself to try and relax.

Legolas did not realise he had passed out until he felt cool hands touch his forehead. He could feel someone supporting him round his shoulders, and their other hand was placed upon his forehead. He gradually opened his eyes.

It was the maiden, Anaróre. She smiled softly at him. "Gave me quite a fright there Legolas. Just slumped to the ground as I was walking by."

"Wh…what?"

"Shh, don't try and speak. Conserve your energy."

"But…I don't understand." His throat felt dry, and his head was pounding.

"You were knelt here, and as I walked by, I saw you collapse onto your side. You've been out for about ten minutes."
"Anyone else see?"

"Only Andúnë. She's gone to fetch my mother; she's a healer. Don't worry, no one else will know, I promise." She helped him to sit up a little more. "Better?"

He nodded. "Hannon lle." He looked at her, rubbing his temples. "I was just…"

"Practising your archery? I can see that." She pointed at the arrow-filled target. "Bit of a waste of arrows, don't you think?"

He grinned. "I can always make some more." He frowned. "I have no idea why I passed out, just like that though."

"Naneth might know. Here she is."

Legolas saw Brithil walking towards him, with another Elf right behind her. "I'm fine," he assured her, smiling as she knelt down beside him.

"I'll tell you if you're fine or not Prince," she told him sharply, raising an eyebrow at him. She then proceeded to check his pulse, feel his forehead, check his temperature.

"Honestly, I just felt a little dizzy...."

"It was something more than that, and you know it," she answered. "I think we should take you to the healing ward…"

"No! I can go back to the camp. I'm ok, really."

She shook her head defiantly. "If my daughter hadn't have found you, goodness for how long you would have lain there. No, you need a proper checking over."

He started to protest, but one look from the healer made him close his mouth. He looked meekly at Anaróre who was smiling. "Do as she says," she advised him. "Trust me, it always works out better that way."

"Right." She helped him to his feet, and Andúnë fetched his bow. They left the arrows in the target, and made their way to the nearest healing ward. Anaróre had her arm round Legolas' waist for support, even though he kept assuring her he was perfectly able of walking alone.

They arrived, and he was sat down on a bed. Brithil disappeared to fetch another healer, and so the two girls stayed with him. "What's wrong Legolas?" Anaróre asked, genuinely concerned.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe…maybe it was something to do with…"

She nodded. "I know, I can guess what you're trying to say." She paused, and then covered his hand with hers. Andúnë raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry," she soothed. "It'll be ok."

He smiled back weakly, nodding. "Maybe. I hope you're right."

For the next hour, he found himself fussed over by the Lothlórien healers. He wanted Anaróre to stay and talk, but she and Andúnë had to be somewhere. So he found himself alone. Again.

Why had he collapsed like that? And for Anaróre to find him! How embarrassed was he? Someone else was bound to find out, and then it would be all over Lothlórien. Thranduil would be ashamed of him.

Was it grief? Or something else? He had encountered death before, comrades had fallen in battle, people he knew had sailed over the Sea to Valinor, but this…this was completely different, and he knew it. This was something much more powerful, more dangerous. He had suffered through grief in the past, but he had never passed out, or even felt ill. And he found he was scared.

What if he had been with the other members of the Fellowship? And what if they hadn't reached the Golden Woods yet and he had collapsed?

"Stop fretting," he heard Brithil say. He looked up at her. "You're thinking about how it happened, what it was."

"Well, yes. I want to know what's wrong with me."

She smiled and sat beside him. "Nothing is wrong with you, not really. You're just grieving and are…very tired. You haven't been resting properly." She felt his forehead.

"Of course I have," he argued, pulling away from her touch. "You really do not have to fuss like this. I feel perfectly fine, and am quite able of walking back to my friends. For one thing, they will be wondering where I am."

"Oh I doubt it," she disagreed, taking his wrist and checking his pulse. He didn't bother pulling away this time. "This is like home to you. Elves everywhere. They'll just think you're off with them, enjoying yourself."

"Well it isn't home," he told her firmly. "Lothlórien is very beautiful, but very different to Mirkwood."

"I know."

"How do you know?"

"I've been there."

"When?"

"Oh, a long time ago now." She smiled again, placing his hand back onto the blankets. "When I was much younger. It eventually led me to meet Silim, Anaróre's father. He is from Lothlórien you see. I however, am from Mirkwood. And I had training in your father's palace as a healer for a long while. He was a young guard from Lothlórien, bringing messages. We met, fell in love, and I moved here with him."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Anaróre has Mirkwood blood in her veins?"

"Aye. We think she has inherited her stubbornness from her grandfather. My father was a fearsome warrior, but he fell in battle many years ago. And then my mother sailed over the Sea, as living in Mirkwood with the memories was too painful. Silim saved me from following her." She smiled as she went over the memories. "Yes, Adar was a Mirkwood Elf through and through. Very brave, very stubborn, and very handsome."

Legolas laughed softly. "Your daughter's stubbornness could well be useful one day," he told her.

It was Brithil's turn to raise an elegant eyebrow. "Useful? If you say so."

He grinned, and decided to keep the subject on Anaróre. "How old is Anaróre?"

"Just coming up to 2,500 years."

"Young then."

"Yes. Silim was hoping, that the older she grew, as she matured, the more willing she would be to accept our wishes. But it would seem his hopes are fading fast. Nothing will get that girl into a dress."

Legolas laughed. "She obviously finds a tunic and leggings more comfortable."

"Aye, but it is not proper for a lady to wear a tunic and leggings. She should just accept the fact she is female, and have to wear a dress."

"There are a lot of ladies in Mirkwood that wear tunics and leggings. When they go out on patrol and riding."

"I know. I used to myself. But…Silim cannot seem to grasp the fact that Anaróre seems to have more Silvan blood than Lórien."

"It might come in useful!" He scowled. "It is my duty to stick up for my land!"

She laughed. "I am not slandering Mirkwood Legolas. Do not worry; I am in full agreement with you." She smoothed out a few creases in her skirt, and it seemed to Legolas that she was a little nervous or anxious. "I do miss Mirkwood," she continued. "It was my birthplace, and I shall always look upon it as home. But…I had to leave, for various reasons."

"I understand," he replied, nodding.

Why is she telling me all this?

"Legolas…you do not mind me calling you that do you?" He shook his head. "Legolas…can you look after her for me?" She looked at him, lowering her voice and biting her lip.

"What do you mean?" He was utterly confused.

"Look after her. I…have been thinking for a long while, and have come to a decision. I want to visit Mirkwood one last time before I leave, and then I will sail over to Valinor. I need to know she is in good hands."

"But…why? There is no need for you to go yet, surely?" They were still talking in hushed tones. "And what of Silim, your husband? Does he know of your plans?"

She shook her head. "No, not as yet. I do not think he wishes to leave these shores just yet. But I have too many memories. I need healing; healing that only the Havens can bring. No healer in Lothlórien, Mirkwood, or Rivendell can cure my pains. I have been waiting, waiting ever since Anaróre was born, to go. I decided to wait until she was old enough to understand my reasons, and able to more or less look after herself. But…she may choose to travel to Mirkwood. If indeed she does, please look after her."

"Of course I will. But are you completely, 100 certain about this? Once you leave, there is not turning back."

"I know that, I do, and I also know that this is what I must do. Trust me Legolas."

He paused, then slowly nodded. "Very well. But you must tell your family, and soon."

"I will." She took hold of his wrist as another healer came over. "I think you are well enough to go back to your camp now my Lord," she said, smiling and raising her voice back to normal. "I shall fetch someone to escort you back, just in case. Just take things easy, rest a while. And no one will know about this, I promise. You have my word."

"Thank you Brithil." He stood up and took hold of his bow and quiver. "And remember this," he told her as she led him to the exit of the healing ward. "Time is always ticking by us. Use the seconds wisely." He smiled and left.

She smiled at his retreating back. Yes, Anaróre would be safe with him if she ever went to Mirkwood. She had complete faith in the young Prince. She turned, and went back inside.

That chapter was a tad longer. I think…

Thanks again for all your reviews. My replies might be getting a bit shorter from now on, as I don't have a lot of time to update nowadays. I'm not being rude, just…rushed!

Faerlain