CHAPTER THREE: Facing Temptation

Arwen was still sleeping soundly when the hour came for her departure. She awoke only when someone tossed a bundle of clothing on her bed.

"What is this? Sisters, I don't understand!" After studying the unfamiliar garments with a puzzled frown, Arwen looked up at the lithe, light-footed elves who attended Queen Galadriel. But they slipped out as silently as they came. Only the youngest winked at her as though sharing some private joke.

The clothes were clearly made for a man. They were not of elvish weaving. Arwen saw that they were meant for a gambler, a swordsman, or some such loose-living boy. There were tight-fitting black breeches, a short black jacket, and a white shirt with lace cuffs and a high collar. Everything was newly pressed or ironed or polished, from the glossy black boots with gold buckles to the wide, low-crowned black hat decorated with a single dashing white plume.

Arwen was hurt by the absence of Galadriel, for she had been expecting a chance to say a last farewell. A chance to explain her reasons for going on this dangerous quest. But instead of moping she bounced out of bed and got dressed.

"You look quite fetching, daughter of Elrond," said a low but deeply feminine voice. Galadriel was standing in the doorway, her white gown shimmering in the morning light.

"I thank you, gracious lady." Arwen smiled but did not turn away from her looking glass. She had a full heart, yet her pride refused to let her say how moved she was. Instead she continued to dress herself, fumbling with the white lace cravat which completed her rather rakish male attire.

"Here, allow me." Galadriel began knotting the cravat for her, her fingers skilled and knowing. Their eyes met. "You are most convincing as a young man, daughter of Elrond. This disguise will aid you in your investigations in Zin Zaraboob. We must find out what happened to Prince Kassim."

"Yes, I wondered why you chose to give me such an . . . unusual going-away present." Arwen blushed. Finding fault with Galadriel was like trying to outshine the sun. "I am grateful for this and for all your kindness, truly. It's just . . ."

"You may speak freely, daughter of Elrond." The tall, serenely beautiful Queen of Lothlorien gave the younger female a piercing look. "Say what is in your heart."

"What Frodo and his friends are doing is important," Arwen blurted out, turning away from Galadriel and flopping down on the bed. "But they are not elven folk. Apart from Legolas and my beloved Aragorn, they are strangers to our sacred ways. Yet they wear our cloaks, carry our jewels, while . . ."

"While the lady you love and serve has given more to strangers than to you." Galadriel sat down beside her on the bed. "You are still precious to me, Arwen." She caressed the younger female's long dark hair with a slim white hand. "I have given you the clothing of an outsider because your quest is different from that other one. You will be facing internal conflicts, not merely external obstacles. You will be facing temptation."

"Temptation?" Arwen was puzzled. "How can I be tempted? I have no greed for gold, or power. I have great love for Aragorn, and he loves me. What more could I want?"

Galadriel mussed her hair. "Ah, that is what you will discover in the city of Zin Zaraboob." And she laughed quite loud.