DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of Tolkien's work, characters, quotes or otherwise. Don't think I could stand the responsibility!
Since she'd been walking down a quiet alley way crying to herself in peace, it came as quite a shock when Helen turned a corner to see throngs of people cheering and throwing flowers in the air. For a brief moment she imagined they were cheering for her – it was her birthday after all – but common sense put an end to that theory. Common sense, and the fact that she'd never seen this place before. It looked like some kind of ruin, which was odd in itself, but it even smelled different. Maybe it was just the flowers, but the air seemed somehow newly fresh, as if it had just rained. She stood for a moment with her eyes closed, letting the breeze wash over her, then came to her senses.
She looked closely at the people in front of her; she was standing on one side of the ruins, which seemed to be cordoned off, and the other people were on the other side, all standing facing alongside the ruins' walls, except for a smaller group who stood directly in front of the barrier. Those people were much closer to her, and much quieter; they all stood still and solemn, as if waiting for something important. It was only then that she noticed the clothes they wore, and indeed their hair; those who stood nearest to her all seemed to have long blond hair, with strange helmets, shields and mail coats, not to mention frighteningly realistic swords. Still, at least she knew what kind of celebration this actually was now – it was clearly some sort of re-enactment, although why anyone would want to do that was beyond Helen. The people further away all seemed to be wearing gowns and what could only be called robes – now that she could understand. She looked down at her jeans and t-shirt sadly, and the floor caught her eye. It was paved with white stone, and although it looked well-worn it certainly didn't look like ruins. Glancing behind her, she saw that the whole street she was on seemed to be paved in the same way, with strangely built houses of stone.
Suddenly there was silence. She looked up quickly, half afraid that someone had noticed her and was about to tell her to leave. But she realised very quickly that this was not the case; the few people that she could see were all looking directly away from the ruins, and the silence seemed somehow one of wonder not indignance. She moved quietly closer to the group for a better view, and saw an even smaller group moving towards them, led by a man with dark shaggy hair, wearing a robe of bright white over dark clothing, whose forehead seemed to shine like a star and whose throat seemed to glow green. With him were three other men, one who looked very much like the men she was standing by, another of whom wore only white. Then she tried not to laugh; with the men were four boys, who from what she could see were wearing mail as well.
The group stopped and a trumpet blew. Two men she had not noticed in the group before the gates stepped forward, and behind them another four carried a black box with silver on it. Then one of the two who had gone forward first, who she saw also had dark hair, knelt before the one with the star. Holding out a white stick, he said,
"The last Steward of Gondor begs leave to surrender his office." But the other man gave him back the stick and replied,
"That office is not ended, and it shall be thine and thy heirs' as long as my line shall last. Do now thy office!"
Then the kneeling man stood and proclaimed,
"Men of Gondor, hear now the Steward of this Realm! Behold! One has come to claim the kingship again at last. Here is Aragorn son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dúnedain of Arnor, Captain of the Host of the West, bearer of the Star of the North, wielder of the Sword Reforged, victorious in battle, whose hands bring healing, the Elfstone, Elessar of the line of Valandil, Isildur's son, Elendil's son of Númenor. Shall he be king and enter into the city and dwell there?"
Wow, whoever he was he had a lot of names, thought Helen as the crowds all shouted together in agreement. Then the 'steward' started to speak again.
"Men of Gondor, the loremasters tell that it was the custom of the old that the king should receive the crown from his father ere he died; or if that might not be, that he should go alone and take it from the hands of his father in the tomb where he was laid. But since things must now be done otherwise, using the authority of the Steward, I have today brought hither from Rath Dínen the crown of Eärnur the last king, whose days passed in the time of our longfathers of old." Then he opened the black box and took something out; Helen couldn't see it properly but she guessed it must be the crown. The new 'king' – Aragorn - took it and held it up, and it shone like fire, and he spoke in a language Helen didn't recognise; it was nothing like anything she'd heard before, and she was quite good with languages in general. Then he gave the crown back to the steward and spoke to the people.
"By the labour and valour of many I have come into my inheritance. In token of this I would have the Ring-bearer bring the crown to me, and let Mithrandir set it upon my head, if he will; for he has been the mover of all that has been accomplished, and this is his victory." Then one of the boys and the man in white came forward, and Helen noticed that not only was his robe white but he also had a long white beard and hair. Aragorn knelt; the boy took the crown from the steward and gave it to the man – Mithrandir she supposed – who placed it on the king's head.
"Now come the days of the King, and may they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!" he cried, and Aragorn stood up and the silence became even more noticeable; Helen realised that he really did look like a king, one out of a fairy tale though. Then the steward raised his voice:
"Behold the King!"
Then the sound of trumpets seemed to echo around them, and the King came forward, and the barrier was removed, and he passed the ruined walls.