Chapter Two: Painful Coronation

Laileth had been restricted to the healing rooms for the next week. Her wounds were indeed serious, but even after she had healed they had forbade her from leaving. There were other, less visible wounds that needed mending. At first she had protested the confinement, but soon gave into her own despair and simply lay silent in grief, only rousing enough to eat when someone came to remind her.

Two weeks after her father's death her brother at last returned. He was immediately told of the scouting party and how it had gone sour, and the fate of his family. He rushed into the room where Laileth had been kept and knelt by her bedside, raw emotion searing his face like a brand. She opened her eyes and saw him, staring wide eyed and almost disbelieving his presence.

"Legolas," she confirmed, her voice cracking. He leaned forward to envelop his sister in a tight hug, nearly crushing her with its intensity. "Legolas, I'm so sorry," she whimpered against his shoulder, "I vowed to keep him safe, but they were just too powerful." He hushed her, stroking her golden hair and shaking his head, rocking her back and forth in his arms.

"Nay, Laileth, it is I who should be sorry for leaving you alone," he said. She heard the deep sorrow in his voice and fresh tears traced their way down her face. "You should have gone in my place." Laileth sat up and released her brother from her embrace.

"How did Elrond take the news?" she asked, almost as if she did not want to hear the answer. Legolas looked into her eyes and frowned.

"Not well," he said. "Laileth, there is more going on than simply an escaped captive," he said gravely. "The Ring of the Enemy has been found." Laileth started at the words, looking around her to see that they were alone. "There's more," he continued. "The Ring is now in the hands of a perian, and after great debate and council, it was decided that he would take the Thing into the fires of Orodruin. Companions were chosen by Elrond to guard and guide him on his way. I am one." Laileth slowly shook her head.

"But you cannot go now," she said. "Not after..." she left the sentence unfinished and Legolas nodded. "You are to be king."

"Ú-aníron den," he whispered.

"Neither did adar," she said, "but it was his duty to lead, as it is yours." Legolas stood, turning away from her and examining a tapestry on the wall in front of him. He raised a nervous hand to smooth back his hair as he thought, attempting to keep the full weight of his grief from his actions.

"You are right, I cannot go," he said finally, turning back to face her. The grief had left his voice, but was startlingly present in his eyes. "You will take my place." Laileth did not answer, save for the slow shaking of her head. "You must," he said in an almost pleading tone, "it is my place to choose who will go in my stead. I choose you."

"Muindor nin," she said, standing and walking towards him. "Choose another. If what you say is true and they head to the Black Lands, they need a warrior. Send Saeros, or..."

"No," he cut her off. "You say I have my duty to the Kingdom, then I say you have also." She unconsciously straightened at his mention of duty. All their lives they'd been trained for their role within the monarchy as well as the army. Where Legolas had been hailed as the best archer, she also was among the best in Mirkwood, second only to Legolas himself. "The Prince of Mirkwood was chosen," he continued, "I would send no lesser replacement than its Princess." Laileth bowed her head in acceptance of this first command from her new King.

The next morning the new King was crowned. As the slender gold circlet was placed upon his brow, Legolas felt it's weight to be intolerably heavy. It was a burden that should never have come to him, and had he not himself buried his father, he would be certain he was stealing power from another.

His eyes flew to his sister's as the scrolls were read, and scanned the crowd ruefully as he took his vows. He wanted to cry out, to protest the weight of care being set upon his shoulders, but could not. It was his duty to accept it, just as now it was his duty to marry and produce an heir, to continue the line of his fathers. His heart felt sick with responsibility, loathing every moment the soft gold touched his skin. At last the melodious chanting ceased and he watched as all in the room bowed to their King who would be Prince.

Numbly he turned, walking up to his father's throne. He came within a step from the carved wood seat and stopped, unable to go any further. He stared at it, the symbol of his father's rule, and could not bring himself take it. Almost he had a mind to order it removed, and his chair that stood beside it put in its place, but at the last he forced his trembling legs to press on. Gingerly he sat, finally taking his place upon the throne of Mirkwood. He wondered to himself if his father had had such difficulty assuming the throne upon the death of Oropher.

Soon the crowd dispersed. The crowning of an Elven-King is, necessarily a solemn occasion. The coronation of a new monarch meant the death of another, and so it was rarely celebrated. At last the halls were emptied, save for his aides and advisors, and his sister who had not moved. Legolas motioned to her to come closer and she walked up to the throne.

"When will you leave?" he asked. She looked at him curiously.

"When do you think I should leave?" she answered carefully. A humorless smile played upon the young king's lips in answer.

"The quest is of great importance," he replied. "It cannot be delayed; you must leave at once. Before I was summoned the Dunedain and the sons of Elrond were scouting the lands for rumor of the Nazgul. The sooner you arrive with news of one in the Greenwood the better. I must admit, had it not been for this incident we would not have thought to search this far." After a long silence she finally spoke in answer.

"You will be in danger now," she said. "If what you say is true and the weapon of the enemy has been found, the Nazgul may become bolder and attack the city openly. You will need help." Legolas nodded.

"I have considered this. I will send word to Lothlorien and seek council and aid from them, but you must go." Laileth stood and bowed to her king.

"I will complete the quest," she vowed, "to whatever end." With that she turned to prepare for her journey. Just before she left the halls, he called out to her.

"Laileth," she turned when she heard her name. "Tell Estel...tell him I'm sorry." Wordlessly she nodded and left the halls.