Author’s Note: Okay...this will be a VERY long note.

Okay, where to start...okay. This takes place in an alternate reality of Middle Earth where the LOTR thing never happened and will never happen and Aragorn is not in the picture. This is a romance story and these changes had to be made for it to run smoothly. When you read I would love for you to review, but no flames please. I would like honest opinions from a neutral perspective. Thank you. Do enjoy!

        “Legolas,” came the soft voice of the auburn-haired elf Narius, as he slid a large knapsack from his horse’s back. After receiving no immediate response, he glanced over his shoulder to see if he would be graced with is Elirium’s* acknowledgement.
        “Hmm?” Came Legolas’ distracted response as another spark flew from the two stones between his hands into the small pile of kindling before him, yet again to no avail.
        “Legolas, what do you think of all this?” Inquired Narius.
        Finally succeeding in igniting the kindling, Legolas sat back and looked to Narius questioningly for a moment before realizing what had been asked. “Oh, what do I think? Of what?”
        “All of this!” replied Narius. “Of Lady Evanstar. You’ve been mightily quiet about the whole matter since we left Mirkwood.”
        Legolas smiled mischievously. “Well, Narius, the Men have a saying. ‘If you have nothing pleasant to say, then say nothing at all.’”
        Narius chuckled and shook his head gently as he came to rest beside his life-long friend. “Surely Legolas, with a woman renown as the most beautiful in all of Middle-Earth, things cannot be all bad, hmm?” He asked.
        Legolas smiled. “True.” He said. “Very true. But you must believe that one of such beauty would be equally conceited, Narius. Why, she probably sits transfixed with her reflextion in the mirror, gawking lovingly at her sparklingly radiant eyes and her hair as it shimmers with all the beauty of the night sky.”
        “You seem more interested than not.” Narius pointed out.
        Legolas scoffed. “And let the mirror grace her presence more than I?” He deftly tossed a stray pebble into the now roaring campfire, causing a brief fountain of sparks. “Please!” He said with a role of his storm-gray eyes.

        “What, pray-tell, are you so jubilant about?” Taking hold of her horse’s slender neck for leverage, Lady Arwen Evanstar turned slightly to regard her handmaiden, Lelandiel, whose youthful face was beaming with a happy light.
        Lelandiel smiled more broadly. “How can you not be my Lady?”
        “Who could I possibly have to be so joyous about? Tell me, please.” Arwen smiled mockingly.
        Lelandiel breathed pointedly but with a smile gracing her slender face. “Come now, my Lady. Surely you jest. You know very well.”
        Arwen smiled, but decided to play naive. “Do I?” She asked coyly.
        Lelandiel chuckled and shook her head. “Oh my Lady, you are impossible! I speak of fair Legolas Elirium of course!”
        Arwen’s features darkened. “What of him?” She asked curtly.
        “Why, he is only renown as the most handsome suitor Mirkwood has to offer.” Lelandiel said. “I’ve heard he’s rather striking,” she smiled at her own pun. “And rather good with a bow as well.”
        Arwen rolled her crystalline eyes and swung herself gracefully onto her horse’s back. She then looked down to regard her handmaiden, looking grave. “Yes, Lelandiel, he may be handsome, but I do not know him. I do not know, even who he surely is.”
        “That is true, my Lady, but you have the rest of your live to learn-”
        “To learn what?” Arwen interrupted, looking suddenly angry. “That his archery targets that look so much like the backside of a porcupine shall grace his lordly presence more than I, his Lady shall? You think I should settle for this? Please!” With that, she turned her horse and cantered away.