Anawiel had washed her hair - something she admitted to herself, she did not do often enough, judging from the dirty brown water now filling the basin on her table. She had even had a bath. Her pink skin now felt rough and sore from the forciful scrubbing of the maides who appeared out of nowhere whenever you ordered something in the palace.
She had never liked being treated above her station by people her own age. Looking in the large mirror she studied herself, crictically taking in her apperance.
What she saw was a pale skinned girl with an overwhelming flag of deep red hair that threatened to over-power her face. She wore a borrowed sea-blue dress in made in the elven style with long tapering sleeves reaching over her hands. It was perhaps a little small for her as it hugged her body tightly showing her disgustingly bony figure. She had lost a lot of weight since her arrival. Her eyes were soft green emeralds surrounded with thick dark lashes - a strange mix from her ruby hair - and small red lines pierced the milky whites of her eyes, leaving them bloodshot as though she had been crying.
After sighing deeply and re-arranging her hair yet again, Anawiel set off to find Aragorn.
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