I was quite pleased at the progress that we made in Ithilien, for our new city grew quickly and adapted quite well. Aragorn, delighted at having us so close to his own city, had been more than happy and willing to supply us with all that was needed. And Gimli, my dear friend, he worked as tirelessly as my own people, helping to create some magnificent homes and pathways from wood and stone, though his talents shone best in his stone-craft. For my own part, I cast aside both crown and finery and worked alongside my kin and friends, for Aragorn, Gimli, and Faramir all toiled in the building of my kingdom's extension.
I relished the help and it did my heart a world of good to do psychical labor. I was happy again for a while, for I was loathe to be waited on hand and foot. Doing everyday tasks alongside of ordinary folk (and seeing Aragorn doing the same) relieved some of the desire I had had to recapture the past, for part of me longed to go back to the days of our travels, for the sheer fact that I was free to wander and free from the pressures of ruling. Not that I felt overwhelmed, for little ever happened within Mirkwood or with our allies. But I missed the adventure of the past. Surely I did not wish for a threat such as Sauron to arise, but now that there was little to do, a part of me seemed to die. For I was a warrior as well as a king, and though I loved peace and tranquility, the Sea-Longing and a wanderlust still burned within my heart, for the orcs and urak-hai had been disposed of and not a single one, if any still did live, had been seen since only a few months after the war was over.
The only adventure left to me, it seemed, would be to get the new colony functioning and running smoothly with the help of my friends. I was quite mistaken, for I remember one rainy summer afternoon. I was working with Gimli and Aragorn on a few projects, cutting wood and taking measurements for one of the last buildings left to be built; the estate which I would reside in during my times in Ithilien. I purposely did not call it a palace, for that had too regal an air, and though I was king, it still did not sit well with me. Faramir was not with us that afternoon, for he had been feeling ill and had stayed home to rest that day. But the three of us worked all through the rain, just to feel it on us as we worked. We laughed and sang, trading stories and talking of the past, drenched and dirty as we were from our work. But we were in such high spirits, and silently, I noted to myself that it had been long since I had been this happy.
I suppose we must have made quite a sight, a dwarf and two kings, acting in such an outlandish, unconventional manner. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but we took no heed, being far too involved with what we were doing, and that ranged from anything from work to play. Aragorn had hoisted up a plank of wood that was ready to be cut and shaped, but as he came forward, he slipped in the mud and fell. I had offered my hand to him to help him up, and he gratefully accepted. But at the last moment, a sly, mischievous glint came into his eye, and he pulled me down into the mud beside him. He laughed triumphantly and I could not help but to shake my head and laugh as well. I patted a muddy hand on his shoulder.
"You have gotten me well, my friend," I said.
"Well, it took some time, but I knew I'd see the day when you would be covered in dirt," he joked back.
For long had we held a joke between us, ever since our days as the Fellowship, for while Men toiled and fought and got rather dirty, I could work just as hard while remaining relatively clean.
It was at this time as we sat laughing, the mud dripping from our hair, that I caught sight of a beautiful Elven maiden. Her hair was golden as the sun, her eyes as green as fine cut emeralds. She was walking with the Lady Arwen and was carrying a wicker basket filled with food. A dress of palest blue clung wetly to her slender form.
I did not right away recognize her, for she was new to the community, having only arrived the day before. She was a Lorien Elf, one of the few who did not leave Middle Earth right away once the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel parted for Valinor. Her name was Elen, youngest sister of Haldir, my friend of old. I had known her when we were but children, but we had not seen one another in nearly 1700 years, for the fates had seen to it that many circumstances had arisen that had prevented a more recent meeting.
I could see her holding back a laugh as Aragorn and I teamed up against Gimli, who landed in the overly wet mud with a satisfying splash. Arwen was openly laughing at our behavior.
"My lords," Elen said, once we had calmed down a bit, "I have brought you this food."
"Thank you," I said, wiping mud from my face and splashing it with clean water from a nearby fountain, "we greatly appreciate that." I looked at her once again, for something in the back of my mind told me that I knew her. "You are new to the community, are you not?"
"Yes, I arrived yesterday afternoon from Lothlorien."
"You look so familiar," I said, hesitantly. "Do I know you from someplace?"
She smiled, as if she knew the answer to some riddle. "Can it be that you have forgotten me, cuar?" she asked, calling me archer, a nickname she'd always teased me with since I had been young and had pretended to be a skilled archer in the days before my warrior training.
Immediately I knew who she was. "Elen!" I cried, "it has been too long! Come, sit and talk with us," I offered, as I gestured to come inside the half finished building, to get out of the rain.
All that afternoon I spoke with her, and Aragorn was kind enough to let her accompany us back to his own palace that night when we had finished our work. We spoke throughout the night, catching up on far too many years that had seen us apart. And when we did part for the night to take a little sleep, I knew that I was in love with her. As an elfling, I had always felt connected to her in a way that I never understood. But I was promised to another, who died a few years before the One Ring had been discovered in the Shire and Elrond had called his council. It happened during an orc attack against Rivendell, where she had been headed, being a friend of Arwen. I grieved for a while, but there was always that guilty part of me that knew I did not care for her in the same way that I had always cared about Elen.
In all events, work progressed in my new kingdom, and all too soon it was completed. I hosted an official opening to our new home and it was there that I asked Elen to be my wife, for I had finally found the one thing that was missing from my life: her. The kingdom rejoiced at the announcement that Elen would soon be their queen. The wedding ceremony itself was held in Mirkwood, for that was my true home. The elders of my kingdom oversaw our union as we took our vows and gave us their blessings.
I was able to embark on the greatest journey of my life and I was never happier. But where that journey was to lead me, I could never have guessed.
