A/N
To be clear, I have no idea whether such an event actually happened or not, but I guess it's the same deal with all my one-shots, so bear with me and enjoy!

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The girl was trapped.

She glanced frantically from left to right, scanning the room for possible exits. She was alone, but not for long - audible voices and footsteps could be heard getting closer and closer. It was a relatively large room, elegantly yet sparsely furnished, meaning there was nowhere to hide. They would find her in moments. There was only one thing left to do.

The window was wide open in seconds. It was a ground floor window of a nobleman's townhouse, with long silky curtains that were pulled aside in a matter of moments. The girl knew she had no choice, and she swung her legs up and over the cool white stone windowsill that matched the cool white stone of the house, almost tearing her riding dress on the window basket. She braced herself and jumped the three feet to the ground, almost jarring her ankle.

Just in time, too. The door was flung open, and the girl ducked into a crouch lest whoever was searching for her see her. It was idiotic to attempt such an escapade in broad daylight, she scolded herself. Luckily, no passerbys had noticed the young teenage girl jumping out of the window of Lord Suiledir's home. In a rather ungainly fashion, she crawled away from the window until she dared straighten up and walk away.

Her heart was beating quickly, and she brushed her hair out of her face more than usual with nervousness, an awkward habit of hers. She had never done such a rash and stupid thing. Her parents would not be pleased - but she had not seen the horses in ages. Her mother had kept her in the house for a full three days, making her help with preparations for the occasion - sewing, mostly, a task she exceedingly hated. She remembered their conversation clearly, and replayed it in her head as she made her guilty way to the stables.

By the Valar, Galieth, have you no good dresses left? Lady Gwynnis had scolded, gesturing to the disgrace that was the girl's wardrobe.

That green silk is still more or less intact, Galieth had pointed out. Her mother took no notice.

Oh, Galieth, it is too late to get the dressmaker to make you a new gown! You must fix up that green silk then, and quickly! King Elessar and his family are to arrive soon.

That phrase was one that was the most used in the great northern city of Annúminas in the past weeks. The King and his family are to arrive soon. It was an excuse for housewives to give their entire home a spring clean - because King Elessar is coming - an excuse to rebuild dilapidated stables and do general repairs and make the city more beautiful than it already was, as brilliant as it could possibly be, a shining jewel on the shores of the magnificent Lake Evendim, because King Elessar and his family are to arrive soon. Galieth had even heard it used as a threat by mothers to get their unruly children to settle down - you behave now - I'm sure Princess Almárëa eats her vegetables like a good girl.

Galieth was, in all honesty, entirely sick of King Elessar and his family. Although that was unfair, she mused, as she shoved open the stable door with her shoulder. King Elessar was a good man, and his queen was said to be the most beautiful woman in Middle-Earth. Galieth was sure their children had inherited these traits - yet it was becoming tiresome when her brothers remarked snidely that Prince Eldarion was only two years her elder, wink, wink.

Her beloved mare nickered softly and stuck her long head over the door of her box. Galieth greeted her with a smile, all her anxiety at her act of disappearance fading away as the warm smell of horse and hay hit her. In no time at all, the mare was cleaned and saddled, and Galieth swung herself up with practised ease. The girl loved to ride, to gallop through the forests and across the wild plains and along the banks of lakes and rivers of the North of Gondor, feel the wind send her hair fluttering out behind her and her long riding skirt billowing out.

"Shall we run, my friend?" She whispered, and as soon as they were out the city gates, the mare snorted joyously and shot off like an arrow from a bow. Galieth had no specific plan in mind as to where she was headed - she just let her horse run, and the cold air stung her cheeks and she never once looked back. She was truly a daughter of the Dúnedain, loving the open air and the mountains and forests.

They were soon out of sight of the city, approaching the first few trees. The two were so used to such excursions that they did not even slow on the forest path, weaving around trees and leaping over fallen spruces with ease. The air smelled like pine needles, fresh and natural, and with keen eyes Galieth spotted a herd of deer cantering away through the trees, a squirrel in the branches above her. She was truly in her element here.

Slowly, the gravity of what she had done dawned upon her again. Reluctantly, she pulled at her mare's reins and turned her around. This took some manoeuvring on the narrow forest path, and the horse was clearly indignant at breaking off the chase when she had only just properly fallen into the familiar stride. Clucking her tongue softly, Galieth urged her mare home.

"Forgotten something, my lady?" One of the guards at the gate called teasingly. Galieth nearly stuck out her tongue at him, but remembered her manners this time and made some haughty remark about only wanting a quick breath of air this time.

She handed the mare to one of the stable lads, not being in the mood to untack the horse herself. Her high hopes from earlier felt flat and deflated, as she made her guilty way through the wide, cobbled streets to her father's house. She hated to disappoint her parents, and strict though they may be, she could think of no other fifteen-year-old girls whose parents sometimes were lenient enough to let them ride out alone. They thought they were too young, or that they were not safe alone, but Galieth's parents knew their daughter well, that she was sensible enough.

Galieth doubted she had even been away an hour, but the way her Lady Gwynnis carried on, one would think she had been missing for days. Still, she felt she deserved the scolding.

"How could you disappear like that, when you know King Elessar is due to arrive today?"

"Today?!" Galieth had actually not known that. She felt even more guilty, realising her parent's stress with preparations. "Mother, I honestly would not have left had I known that." This was the truth, she told herself sternly. Or was it....?

"Oh, Galieth, you are fifteen years old, and a young lady! You should not do such childish things any more. On another note, is your dress finished? I daresay you might be invited to the ball, although you are almost too young still.... it depends whether or not Princess Eruthiawen will attend, she is around your age.... even if you are not, it will do you good to have a proper gown for once. I wonder if...." she was almost talking to herself now, but Galieth did not dare sneak off again.

"It is finished, Mother. I finished it this morning."

"Good girl - and tidy your hair, you look as though you have been caught in a positive gale." Before her mother caught on to where she had been, Galieth had slipped away.

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Though he was seventeen years of age, after travelling for nearly two months straight, Prince Eldarion was so breathtakingly handsome it was almost intolerable. Galieth watched with outward indifference as he gallantly made conversation with Lord this and Lady that, grey eyes flashing with joy and mirth and interest alike. She knew perfectly well every young lady of similar age were desperately vying for his attention, and whenever one of those irritating young damsels boldly took his arm, he would chat politely until he managed to shake them off with such subtle skill and chivalry they did not even seem to mind, proudly telling their girlfriends they had actually talked to the Prince.

She had, to only her mother's delight, been invited to the ball after all, but her father had made it explicitly clear she was to return home at twelve at the latest. She skulked at the edge of the dance floor, trying very hard not to look at Eldarion or his beautiful sister or his - there were no other words for it - utterly majestic parents. Galieth felt almost diminished in their very presence, as the awe she felt for them was almost overpowering.

"Galieth, there you are! You will never guess what!"

The girl refrained from rolling her eyes with annoyance. She would much prefer to brood away in silence, alone, but inspired by Prince Eldarion's example, she put up with Lady Selwyn's presence with an almost martyr-like air of tolerance. "You spoke to the Prince?" She asked, taking her excited friend to a more private corner of the spectacular marble ballroom. Galieth had never been there before, and despite her doubts had been very impressed.

"Indeed I did! Oh my, he was so kind and told me such interesting things about life in Minas Tirith! How I would love to visit our southern counterpart...." Selwyn prattled on, oblivious to Galieth's disinterest. Her eyes had already strayed back to the Prince.

"You should ask him for a dance, really you should, Galieth. Much as I would like to, you would make such a good pair! Your green silk even matches his own garments, isn't that funny -"

"Good grief, you must be mad! Look at me, then look at him. We may have the same colour hair and clothes but the resemblance ends there. I am too tall for a young lady, my teeth are crooked, even my gown is in awful shape, for I only finished hemming this morning with my own shapeless stitching! Now look at him, with his perfect grace and poise, carefully tailored clothes, not a hair out of place! I would look terrible at his side, you must admit." Galieth stopped for breath, and Selwyn stared at her in astonishment.

"When have you cared a fig for your appearance?"

Galieth flushed. A slow grin spread across Selwyn's piquant face, and she dug her friend in the ribs unsubtly. "Methinks someone is in loooove," she drawled, and Galieth glared in a very unladylike gesture. "Would you hold your tongue! It is nearly midnight, and I must go home." She turned on her heel, ignoring her elder brother who had been unwillingly enlisted as chaperone, and stalked out into the cool night air, tears stinging her cheeks.

"Well, that's a missed opportunity if I ever saw one," Selwyn said to herself pessimistically, and drifted in the direction of the dance floor to try her luck with the Prince again. 

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