My word. I apologize - I practically forgot about updating. I've definitely had the time, just not been thinking about it. I'm very sorry about the delay! I'm trying to get things moving, I promise, and to wrap this story up soon I'm going to lengthen the chapters a bit. I just realized it's been nearly a year since I started posting. Wow, time flew. Thank you so, so much, those of you that have endured and are still enduring the trip! Your loyalty means everything.
xx Cheers
The entire population of Minas Tirith - or what was left of it - was gathered on the highest level of the city. They were pressed closely together, often pushing each other around for a better view. Alandria herself did not have such problems, as she stood comfortably at Éomer's side a few meters down the aisle of the crowd. She was excited, and happy, and peaceful. She smiled anxiously across the aisle at Éowyn and Faramir, whom stood close together. They both smiled back, Faramir bowing his head slightly, and then turning his attention towards the front of the aisle. Éowyn held her gaze for a second longer, smiling faintly, her dark blue eyes flicking to the tall man at Alandria's side, and then towards the same place as Faramir watched. A sudden hush fell over the crowd. Alandria then herself turned to look as well, just as Aragorn stepped up the white steps before the Hall. Gandalf and Gimli already watched at the top of the steps for him, and as he approached, Gandalf took from the Dwarf a lovely crown of silver and gold. It was fashioned with the seagull wings symbolizing the Men of Numénor, and the Wizard wasted no time before gently placing it upon the dark-haired Man's head.
"Now come the days of the King!" Declared Gandalf, a faint smile on his face. He looked down at Aragorn then, smiled more fully, and murmured something Alandria could not hear.
Aragorn then rose up straighter, and turned slowly to face his audience. The change in him was unbelievable. He seemed taller, stronger, wiser, the rich colors of black and silver and red and bronze fitting him perfectly. The scruffy, hardy Ranger Alandria had come to love so much hardly seemed to exist anymore. It was a somewhat unnerving feeling, and yet she could not deny the pride she felt for the Man as he so easily bore his Kingly title. The people of Minas Tirith let out cheers and applause, seeing before them, at last, a true King.
"This day does not belong to one man," Aragorn began in his gentle voice, "but to all. Let us together rebuild this world, that we may share in the days of peace." The crowd cheered again, and Alandria smiled, joining in the applause. Aragorn bowed his head then, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Alandria stayed her hands, attentively watching the man. "Et Eärello, endorrena utúlien.." He sang softly in Elvish, quieting his audience immediately, and laying them under a peaceful trance. Alandria did not understand the words, as many others did not either, and yet they all discerned the comforting meaning. "..sinome maruvan, ar Hildinyar.." He stepped smoothly down the short stairs, and began to walk slowly down the aisle of people. "..tenn Ambar-metta." He finished gently, just as he came to Alandria and Éomer, after passing Éowyn and Faramir, who had bowed to him. Alandria and Éomer mimicked their bows, and Alandria smiled nervously up at the King. He smiled warmly back, glancing from her to Éomer, before bowing his head and moving on. Éomer grasped her hand then, and she looked up with a smile into warm, gold-brown eyes. She looked towards Aragorn again, as he came to Legolas. The two exchanged a warm smile, placing a brotherly hand on each other's shoulders, before something behind the blonde Elf caught the King's attention.
Alandria waited patiently, knowing what he saw, for she had already seen it. Her eyes dropped unconsciously to the ground as she waited, nervously, for the Elf-maiden to reveal herself. She knew when she did, for several women in the crowd gasped softly and began to murmur, surely at the maiden's beauty. Alandria shifted uncomfortably. As the long seconds passed slowly by, she finally - hesitantly - looked up. Arwen was looking down too, but Aragorn lifted her chin with his hand. As she raised her face to his, Alandria was struck again with how perfectly beautiful she was, even more so than the Lady of Lothlórien. Her skin was like snow-white porcelain, her hair waves of ebony, her eyes blue as the ocean, features dainty and perfect. Aragorn stared intently at her with amazement Alandria could not see, but could feel, and his Elf-maiden stared back with tears in her eyes and smiled faintly. The Ranger-turned-King swept forward to take her in a kiss, holding her in his arms as he slowly spun. Alandria looked away, glancing first at the ground, and then nervously up at the Man beside her. He watched the King and his Lady embrace, and try as hard as Alandria did, she could not read the expression in eyes and features. Uneasy, she dropped his hand and turned back to the scene before her.
Aragorn and Arwen walked on through the crowd, which parted for them like water. Soon they were out of Alandria's sight, but in the unrealistic silence, she heard Aragorn's soft voice carry. "My friends," He said gently, and she could hear the smile in his voice, "you bow to no one." She knew he spoke to the hobbits, and as one the surrounding crowd lowered themselves to their knees, in respect to the little hobytlas that had saved them all. Alandria glanced up, seeing the four little men standing nervously side by side, staring out across the mass of bowed people in amazement. She could not, even then, believe all was ended and done. Frodo and Sam had destroyed the Ring. The Ring was gone. Sauron was gone. Forever. Now the people of Middle-earth could live in peace and happiness, until their time came to an end.
The crowd rose again, and turned into a bustling mass of noise. Most of the people stepped forward to meet the new King, or the little hobbits, and Alandria was quick to slip out of the throng of people. She abandoned Éomer without a second thought, doubt strong inside of her as she glanced once more at the flicker of the green dress Arwen wore. Pressing her lips firmly together, she strode further away from the noise of the crowd. She hated crowds. Instead, she exited quickly out the gate and headed down to the fifth level, where the streets were empty and quiet, with the gathered people only a murmur in the background. She stood with her arms crossed before a large window looking out over the plains to the West, to the sea and directly opposite of Mordor. The image of the perfect Elf-maiden seemed burned into her mind, combining with the stare of Éomer and driving further doubt and worry into her. She held her head in her hand, muttering softly.
"Why is it that I always find you alone when others are enjoying themselves?" Alandria started in alarm at the deep, soft voice and looked up to see the White Wizard walking slowly towards her. She tried to smile but it merely flickered, before disappearing completely. "Alandria, what is the matter?" The ancient man asked gently, now at her side, and studying her features thoughtfully.
Alandria opened her mouth, grasping for words as her eyes raced desperately over the plains out the window, and then dropped her head with a faint smile and exasperated sigh. "There is always something the matter with me, isn't there?" The Wizard did not answer, and she was pressed on by his silence. "It's foolish but I just.. I can't help... I feel so.." She growled, pinching the bridge of her nose, and then sighing heavily again. She turned and faced Gandalf head-on, her grass-green eyes boring firmly into his. "The Lady Arwen. She's beautiful. Impossibly so. And although I know - we all know - her love is Aragorn and his love is her, but..but what is to keep..others from noticing her? I have no doubt already that several men of the city have fallen for her beauty. I can't..." She broke from her stare-down with the Wizard, glancing aside nervously. "I can't compete with her."
Gandalf remained silent for a moment, staring at her intently. He sighed then, and shifted his hold on his staff. "You are afraid the Lord Éomer will find her more beautiful than you." He did not ask, but stated.
"No, I know he will find her more beautiful than me. I am not beautiful!" Alandria laughed harshly, shaking her head and turning to the window again. "But I am afraid he may...may love her, or become infatuated with her, and I..." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper, "I won't exist anymore."
"My dear girl," Gandalf sighed, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You cannot truly think this?"
"Oh? Can't I? She is so beautiful, Gandalf!"
"So are you, Alandria." She scoffed, trying to pull away, but he held her still. "Your Lord Éomer is much wiser than you are giving him credit for. Beautiful Arwen may be, but Éomer would never trade a intelligent and loyal steed for a pretty show-horse. And you, my dear, are much lovelier than any steed." He smiled warmly, squeezing her shoulder gently. "You cannot think Éomer would let you go that easily."
Alandria shifted, suddenly feeling extremely foolish, yet refusing to admit the doubt that still lingered. "You may be right Gandalf... I am sorry. I am..foolish."
"No, dear," He smiled again, "you are in love."
She flushed, smiling faintly. "Perhaps."
"Now, will you return to the company in the level above?"
Alandria glanced up towards the continuing murmur of people. "No, I do not think so. Crowds are not for me."
"They have their duties, they will disperse soon. And then there shall be a dinner and celebration for the victory and crowning."
"A celebration? When?"
"Less than a couple of hours, I would assume. They've been preparing for it all day."
Alandria raised an eyebrow. "How is it you always know these things?"
The Wizard smiled with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "A Wizard most always know these things, Alandria. Especially when one might be part of the entertainment!"
Alandria laughed lightly, recalling all the stories she had heard from Merry and Pippin. "Fireworks, Gandalf? Still?"
The old man chuckled, shrugging, but the stars in his eyes seemed even brighter now. "You'll have to wait and see. Come along Alandria, let's go back up. Your friends will be missing you."
Alandria doubted that, knowing the townspeople were sure to keep them busy, but obeyed the Wizard anyway. She cast one last glance out the window, across pale green plains, towards a lonely ocean she could not see.
When the Wizard and Rohan-lady had arrived back in the courtyard before the Hall, the number of townspeople had not been any less nor was it any quieter. Alandria cast Gandalf a somewhat arrogant smirk, shook her head, and turned away with a sigh. She could not see Aragorn or Arwen at this point, nor Legolas, Gimli, Éomer, or any of the hobbits, for that matter. She glimpsed Éowyn and Faramir, but they were speaking with a tall, elegant, black-haired man and quickly disappeared behind a group of commoners passing by. She began to wonder what in the world could have convinced her to follow Gandalf back up here.
"Alandria!"
She turned around at the chirping voice, to find Pippin and Merry scurrying towards her. "There you two are! Where are Frodo and Sam?"
"Goodness if we know!" Pippin panted. "I only just managed to find Merry in this mess."
Alandria had to smile at the little man's remark. "Madness, isn't it?" The hobbit only sighed heavily in reply, glancing around.
"M'lady, is there anyway we can get out of here?" Merry asked then. "For a little while, anyway."
"I already tried. It won't work; Gandalf will just come and retrieve us."
"Not if he can't find us, he won't." Pippin piped up eagerly.
"Oh?" Alandria raised an amused brow. "And just where do you think Gandalf the White won't be able to find us?"
Pippin grinned. "I know a place, c'mon." He began to jog away, then glanced behind and stopped when he saw Alandria and Merry hesitated behind. "C'mon now, it's nothin' that'll get us into trouble! I promise, Alandria!" Alandria hesitated still, then finally smiled and shook her head, patting Merry's shoulder and following the little green-eyed hobbit.
Pippin led his friends to the base of the sixth level, away from the courtyard and Hall, further back towards the mountain. They passed only a very few shops, no houses, and then came to a place completely shadowed by the side of the mountain. A dark grey door was built into the stone wall, and Pippin scurried towards it eagerly. He stumbled to a stop at the door, and then tugged on the handle. To Alandria's surprise, it began to open, although slowly. It was obviously heavier than the hobbit had expected, so Alandria stepped forward to offer a hand. They finally got the heavy door open, and found inside a dark, stone-made stairway lit by a single torch.
"You'll need to grab that, it's the only one." Pippin pointed up to the torch, which was out a hobbit's reach. Alandria picked it up, and followed the hobbit curiously up the stairs, Merry in front of her.
"Where in the world does this lead to, Pip?" Merry whispered nervously, glancing at the cold stone walls.
"You'll see. Perhaps not a great hiding place, but I doubt Gandalf will look here."
"What, inside the mountain?" Merry whispered harshly. "No one will. And what if that door gets shut? And locked? We'll be trapped in here forever!"
"Oh calm down, Merry." Pippin muttered. "We're not staying in the mountain. See - here. A door."
Indeed they had come to a door, one closely resembling the door downstairs. Alandria offered to open it, handing Merry the torch and then twisting the door's handle, before throwing her shoulder against it. The portal swung open easier than she'd expected, and she stumbled forward into blinding sunlight. Shielding her eyes, she kept the door open until she heard the hobbits' footsteps pass her. Then she shut the door, and slowly lowered her shielding hand. Alandria hadn't expected to be so high up, and froze for a moment to get her bearings. They stood on a small cliff, over-looking the city. The streets that had just recently walked upon were at least a hundred feet below them. She could only barely hear the murmurs of the on-going coronation. The view of the land before the White City was breathtaking though. Although she could see the black mountains of Mordor, they were easily ignored at the great, heightened view of the gold and green grasslands of Gondor. For miles and miles she could see, and turning around, she was treated to the shine of the sun sinking towards the Western horizon. As she had turned though, she only then noticed the huge object in front of her. At the edge of the cliff they stood on was a great wooden pyre, made of heavy brown logs heaped together as a square.
Alandria turned to look down at little Pippin. "Is that a beacon?"
"Aye."
"We're up on a beacon-post?"
He looked up, smiling proudly. "Aye."
Alandria shook her head, smiling softly. "No, I doubt Gandalf will look this high for us." She sighed then, noticing a low bench just beside the door they had exited from, and immediately going to sit on it. "Ah, now this is nice. I feel like I've been standing all day."
"You have been standing all day, Alandria." Pippin chuckled, and sat beside her, his short legs swinging off the ground.
"You alright Merry?" Alandria asked curiously, watching the other hobbit glance nervously off the cliff's side.
"Uh, yeah I'm..I'm alright.." He glanced nervously down again, then hurried over to his friend's side. He noticed Alandria's curious glance and flushed, looking down sheepishly. "I'm don't so much like heights."
Alandria just smiled, and leaned her head back against the wall. It was quiet for several moments, the dull murmur of chatter of people many, many feet below forgotten, and the warm sun slowly turning the white stones of the city from yellow to gold. The quiet of the hobbits was surprising, but they were even more tired than she. The sun was warm, and quiet peaceful and relaxing, and soon Alandria's troubled worries about Éomer and an Elf-maiden slipped away into a soothing sleep.
"Alandria? Merry, Pippin?" A voice calling her name slowly woke Alandria back up. She blinked slowly, wincing as she discovered how stiff she was. "Alandria? Hobbits? Where are you? The festival is starting... Where've you gone?" The gentle voice sounded close for only a moment, and then drifted away again.
Alandria staggered stiffly to her feet, looking around tiredly. The gold of the sun had turned black, with only a dark amber and red at the edge of the horizon. Hardly able to see, she had to carefully step over to the hobbits and listen to their breathing to realize they had fallen asleep too, and quickly shook them awake. They jumped awake in surprise, and just before Pippin could ask a question, the door to the stairs opened.
Legolas stood there, and seemed surprised to have actually discovered them. "There you are." He said softly, and Alandria realized it had been him that had woken her. "Have you been here the whole time?"
"Depends what you mean. Whole time of what?"
"Since the coronation."
Alandria yawned briefly. "Since some of it, yes." She glanced at the dark horizon with a grimace. "We, uh, fell asleep."
The Elf smiled faintly. "So it appears. Well come along, the festival is just about to start and you've got everyone terribly worried."
Alandria rolled her eyes mockingly. "Oh what could've happened? The War is over, or doesn't anyone remember?"
Legolas chuckled musically. "Don't ask me, I was sure you were all fine. Lord Éomer, however, insisted we find you." Alandria felt warmth grow in her stomach at the Elf's words, and smiled briefly. "Frodo and Sam the same."
"Well then, we should go and put their minds at rest. Come on, Merry, Pippin." The two still-tired hobbits stumbled after Alandria and Legolas, who had managed to re-light the torch to lead them back down the stairs.
As they came into the courtyard, Alandria was surprised at the simple, elegant changes that had occured for the celebration. Torches flickered all around, and low-strung lanterns lit the area warmly. Flower petals laced the ground, making Alandria cautious of where she stepped. Legolas led them towards the open doors of the Hall though, where greater light and sound streamed out. Once they stepped into the Great Hall, Alandria was quick to realize this is where the true celebration was meant to be held. Tables were set before the statues lining the inside of the Hall, laden with drinks and rich foods. Many people were grouped in the space between the tables and the throne, and although there were many of them, Alandria noticed they were now just soldiers instead of common folk. Aragorn stood at the stairs before his throne, his beautiful Arwen holding to his arm, and he spoke to Faramir. Alandria wondered where Éowyn was just as the Lady and her brother appeared.
"Alandria!" Éomer visibly relaxed upon seeing her. "You vanished."
"The hobbits and I went to find some quiet away from the crowd." She placed a hand on Merry's curly head. "There was no need to worry."
Éomer noted her stern tone and held her green eyes in confusion, but she abandoned his gaze to look down at the hobbits below her. "This is a celebration, you two. Why not go get some food and drink? I know you're hungry." She smiled teasingly as both hobbits glanced at the nearest table greedily. "Go on, I'll find you later." She nudged them both away, and without further encouragement, they went to satisfy themselves.
"Alandria," Éomer stepped closer to her, lightly holding her elbow, hazel eyes concerned. "is something wrong?"
She glanced over to where Aragorn and Arwen chatted, then back at the man before her, his dark eyes focused solidly and intently upon her face. She smiled weakly. "No, nothing. Come on, let's get something to eat." The golden-haired man followed her hesitantly, still confused but deciding not to press it. They each picked what rich and delicate foods they wanted, wine and ale as well, then joined Merry and Pippin - who had found Frodo and Sam - at a nearby table.
"Frodo, Sam!" Alandria exclaimed upon seeing them. They both smiled widely in returned, Frodo even laughing warmly.
"Thank goodness you're well, Alandria! We'd both heard quite a tale about you." He glanced over at Merry and Pippin, taking a sip from his ale.
Alandria chuckled after her own sip of wine. "Nonsense then, I'm sure."
Frodo merely chuckled. "So it's not true you rode into battle with the Rohirrim disguised as a man?"
Alandria flushed, swallowing. "Well mostly nonsense, then."
The blue-eyed hobbit smiled. "I thought so."
"And you, what about your hand?" Alandria glanced at the bandaged right hand of the hobbit. "So that's true, then?"
Frodo glanced down at his hand sadly, then over to Sam, who was chewing on a piece of cheese with wide, innocent hazel eyes. "Yes, it's true."
"Small price to pay, I suppose, yes?"
"Indeed." Frodo agreed, and Alandria paused for a moment before shaking her head as she chewed a piece of sweet bread.
"I just can't believe it."
"Believe what, Alandria?"
She smiled slightly. "That you two are actually alive. I hate to say it, but I really didn't think you'd make it."
The young hobbit smiled sadly again, big blue eyes soft as his voice. "Neither did we, Alandria. But here we are."
"Here we all are." She added.
Pippin raised his mug of ale then, and held it toward the center of the table. Merry followed suit, as did Alandria, Frodo, and finally Sam. They waited though, refusing to press them all together. Éomer realized with surprise that they were waiting for him, and smiled nervously, surprised to be included in their gesture, and then lifted his mug too. The six of them clanked their tankards together, raised them up again, exchanged smiles with one another, and took deep drinks.