Disclaimers: I don't own any characters or settings from Lord of the Rings.

Act VI

Chapter 42: Planning along Festy Nights

The grand celebration in Minas Tirith was a sight to behold, meticulously prepared to ensure that every citizen could partake in the joyous occasion. Inside the majestic halls, nobles and those of significant standing were seated, their conversations a gentle hum under the vaulted ceilings. Long tables draped in rich linens were laden with an abundance of food and drink. Servants moved gracefully between the tables, ensuring that glasses were filled and plates remained heaped with delicacies.

Outside the hall, the festivities extended to the city streets. Large wooden tables and benches were set up, creating a festive and welcoming atmosphere. The air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of roasting meats and freshly baked bread. As Aragorn finished his speech, the crowd erupted in cheers, and the feast began in earnest. Inside, the nobles engaged in animated conversations, toasting to their new king and the future of Gondor.

Arien, seated among the nobility inside, soon grew restless. Though the atmosphere was joyous, she felt a pull to experience the celebration from a different perspective. Excusing herself, she slipped out of the hall and ventured into the bustling streets of Minas Tirith.

The scene outside was a stark contrast to the refined elegance within the hall. Here, the celebration was vibrant and chaotic, filled with the laughter and shouts of the common folk. People from all walks of life mingled together, their faces lit with genuine happiness. Musicians played lively tunes, and some people had taken to dancing in the open spaces. Children darted between the tables, their carefree laughter adding to the joyous cacophony.

Arien smiled as she walked among the crowd, observing the unfiltered exuberance of the people. She watched as groups of friends toasted to their victory, and families shared meals, their faces glowing with relief and hope. Vendors moved through the crowd, offering trays of food and pitchers of ale. Despite the chaos, there was an undeniable sense of unity and collective joy.

Leaning against a wall, Arien observed the crowd with a thoughtful expression. She noted the differences in how people participated in the celebration. Gondor, much larger than Rohan, had a diverse population. Those of higher social standing enjoyed the best of the feast inside the hall, their connections affording them this privilege. Yet, even among the crowd outside, there were divisions.

Soldiers and those who played crucial roles in the war had access to the festivities but were often found on the periphery of the main celebration. They mingled with the crowd but didn't fully partake in the luxuries enjoyed by the nobles. The common folk, meanwhile, took their place in the throng, some holding plates piled high with food, others simply soaking in the atmosphere.

Arien's keen eyes picked up on the subtle hierarchy within the crowd. Those who had suffered wounds or were grieving losses stayed away, unable to join in the merriment. Others, who had never been part of Gondor's social elite, mingled on the edges, accepted but not fully integrated into the celebration. It was a microcosm of the societal structure that existed long before Aragorn's reign, a system that would be challenging to change.

Her thoughts drifted back to her old world. There, she had been just another person, but here, her identity as an elf and the daughter of Elrond granted her a unique acceptance. She pondered what her place would be if she were not an elf or connected to such influential figures. The realization unsettled her, as she recognized that her acceptance was partly due to her lineage.

Aragorn's ascension to the throne was a crucial first step toward the change she hoped for, but she knew it would not be easy. Societal structures and prejudices would take time to dismantle. She wondered if the changes she envisioned would truly come to pass and whether everyone would be given the opportunities they deserved. The disparity she observed in the celebration was a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.

As she continued to watch the crowd, Arien felt a renewed sense of purpose. Aragorn's reign held the promise of a better future, but it would require effort and dedication from all who believed in that vision. She resolved to do her part in supporting this new era, using her position to advocate for fairness and equality.

Arien pushed herself away from the wall, a wave of realization washing over her. Aragorn would need every ounce of support and help to achieve the grand vision that lay ahead. While he had trusted friends and close allies who wished only the best for their new king, Aragorn would require unwavering support from all corners. The most vital ally, of course, would be Arwen.

She vividly remembered Arwen's arrival on the day of the coronation, yet Aragorn seemed unaware of her lingering presence. In the chaos, it was unlikely anyone had informed him, and she doubted that Arwen had been left to navigate the situation alone. The twins had already spoken to Arien, or rather, they had insisted, that they would depart for Rivendell the next day and had asked if she would accompany them.

Arien did wish to return. She was still wearing the borrowed clothes Éowyn had given her. Tonight, she donned the green gown again, the only piece of clothing she truly owned at the moment. Back in Rivendell, she had an array of attires to choose from. Returning made sense; she longed to speak with Elrond and perhaps mend the rift she felt she had unfairly created.

But deep down, her heart desired to be the one to escort Arwen to Aragorn. Of course, it wouldn't be a solitary journey; many would accompany the future queen—Elladan, Elrohir, Elrond, and others. Still, she felt that those who brought Arwen to her king should be his closest friends.

Her thoughts felt whimsical, reminiscent of her younger, more foolish self, but she couldn't help but find the idea enchanting. She moved quickly through the crowd, back into the lively main halls. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for a familiar face. She spotted Gimli, deep in conversation with Aragorn, both holding tankards of ale.

'Perhaps one of us should remain with the king-to-be,' she mused as she weaved through tables and clusters of people, searching. She hadn't yet found what she was looking for until she nearly collided with Pippin. The hobbit, who had been dancing merrily, was now tottering back for another glass of ale.

"Arien, I didn't see you there," he exclaimed in a tipsy but endearing voice, struggling to maintain his balance. "Have you tasted the ale here? It's great—not as great as the Shire's, but tasty."

"Yes, Pippin, I have," Arien replied, kneeling slightly to speak to him at eye level. "Pippin, have you seen Legolas?"

Pippin, his eyes sparkling with merriment, pointed towards one of the corridors leading to more secluded areas. "Legolas went that way a few minutes ago!"

"Thank you, Pippin," Arien said, patting his head affectionately. She gathered her long gown and swiftly made her way in the direction Pippin had indicated.

The hall, with its high vaulted ceilings, intricate stone carvings, and grand columns, provided a majestic backdrop to the evening's festivities. Arien moved through the corridor, her steps echoing softly against the stone. She followed the dimly lit passage until she emerged into a more tranquil, moonlit courtyard.

Legolas stood there, his silhouette outlined against the night sky, his back to her as he gazed up at the stars. The serene scene momentarily took her breath away. She approached him quietly, her footsteps barely making a sound.

She knew they had started an argument days ago and that they should not be on the most friendly terms. Surely more arguments would come, as she was not going to sit and let the pointy-eared, arrogant prince win. But today, she had paused her thirst for a fight because she needed to speak to him about something very important.

"Prince Legolas," she called softly, not wanting to startle him. She kept the formalities, as last time it was she who had argued with him to call her Lady Arien. Now, she wished she could simply call him Legolas.

He turned, his expression unreadable at first, but then softened as he recognized her. "Lady Arien," he replied, his voice gentle but carrying a hint of the formality she had requested. "What brings you here?"

Legolas would not lie; the last person he thought he would see seeking him today would be Arien. She seemed genuinely relaxed like she wanted to talk rather than argue. He found it strange, considering their last encounter.

"I needed to speak with you," she said, stepping closer. "There is much to discuss, and I believe it concerns both of us."

Legolas nodded, gesturing for her to join him by the fountain. "What weighs on your mind?"

Arien hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I know that Aragorn will need our support now more than ever. The road ahead is fraught with challenges, and the people of Gondor will look to him for guidance. But there is something else... something personal."

Legolas tilted his head slightly, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Please, continue," he urged softly.

"Arwen," Arien said, her voice barely above a whisper. "She will be crucial to Aragorn's success. I really want to be part of that, and I think if you are not planning to do it, you should join us."

Legolas regarded her thoughtfully. "It is a noble intention, Lady Arien. But are you certain it is what you truly desire? To step into such a significant role, especially now?"

Arien met his gaze, her eyes steady. "I am. Don't you see? Those who should escort Arwen to the king should be kin and close friends. You have supported them for so long. Are you telling me that you will not go?"

Legolas nodded slowly, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Indeed, I have spoken with Elladan, and I will accompany the twins back to Rivendell for that very purpose. Together, we shall ensure that Aragorn and Arwen are united."

Arien felt a surge of relief and gratitude. "Wonderful," she exhaled, gazing at Legolas with gratitude. She smiled at him and almost took a step forward to tap him on the arm, but then she recalled her previous insistence on formality and restrained herself. "Then I will see you on the morrow."

Legolas nodded, gazing at her with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. It was not that he did not appreciate seeing her in a more relaxed role, without the urge to argue with him. But it was strange after the fight they had; here she was now, caring about everyone. Arien confused him in a curious way that made him want to find out more about her, even if it meant arguing with her.

They stood there for a moment longer, the night air cool and refreshing. The sound of the festivities drifted faintly from the halls, a reminder of the joy and hope that now filled Gondor. Arien then stepped back. "See you then," she added and turned around, walking away faster than she had come.

Legolas watched her go, a thoughtful expression on his face. Arien had changed, and he found himself intrigued by the woman she had become. As he turned back to the fountain, he knew their paths would continue to cross, and he welcomed the challenges and discoveries that would come with it.

Arien walked back into the festive halls, the vibrant energy of the celebration wrapping around her like a warm blanket. The grand hall was filled with people from all walks of life, nobles, and commoners alike, all united in their joy and relief. The air was thick with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of conversations. As she made her way through the crowd, she scanned the room for her brothers.

She finally spotted Elladan standing near a long table, deep in conversation with a group of soldiers. His tall, imposing figure was easy to recognize even in the crowded hall. With a determined stride, she approached him, weaving through the throngs of revelers.

"Elladan," she called, her voice cutting through the noise.

Elladan turned, his face lighting up with a smile as he saw his sister. "Arien, join us!" he said, gesturing to the soldiers around him. "We were just sharing tales of our adventures."

Arien shook her head slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. "I have something important to tell you," she said, stepping closer so they could speak more privately. "I have decided to ride with you and Elrohir tomorrow."

Elladan's smile widened, a look of relief crossing his features. "That is wonderful news, Arien. It will be good to have you with us. Rivendell has missed you, and so have we."

Arien nodded, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. "Thank you, Elladan. I believe it is time for me to return home, even if only for a while."

Elladan placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We will make the journey together, as it should be. Now, enjoy the rest of the evening. We have much to celebrate."

Arien smiled and squeezed her brother's hand before turning to make her way to one of the many tables laden with food and drink. She picked up a glass of ale, the cool liquid a welcome respite from the warmth of the crowded hall. With her drink in hand, she made her way through the festivities, the joyous atmosphere a stark contrast to the solemn thoughts that had occupied her mind earlier.

She slipped out of the main hall, the noise of the celebration fading slightly as she walked through the quieter corridors. She reached the room that had been given to her, a modest but comfortable space away from the hustle and bustle. The room was dimly lit by a single lamp, casting a warm glow over the simple furnishings.

Arien set her glass of ale on a small table and began to undress, slipping out of her slippers and changing into a simple nightgown. She climbed onto the bed, the soft mattress a welcome comfort after the long days of travel and battle. Sitting up against the headboard, she picked up her glass of ale and took a slow sip, letting the liquid calm her.

Her thoughts drifted to Legolas and their earlier conversation. He had not been argumentative or arrogant; he had simply talked with her. For that, she gave him a mental cookie point. She almost felt she had been too harsh with him the other day. Almost.

Legolas was many things, but he was not a villain. Nor was he someone she could ever truly hate. There were parts of him she would never fully understand, just as there were parts of her that he would not grasp. He had been raised as a prince, with all the privileges and responsibilities that entailed, while she had grown up in a completely different world. The differences in their upbringing were vast, and those differences shaped who they were.

As she finished her ale, she reflected on how she would not overlook the things that bothered her. If it meant arguing one-on-one with Legolas, she would. Physical combat was another matter entirely, but she wouldn't shy away from it either.

These thoughts floated through her mind as she drained the last of her ale. The ale's warmth spread through her, easing her muscles and calming her mind. She set the empty glass aside and lay down, pulling the blankets over herself. The distant sounds of celebration lulled her into a deep, peaceful sleep, more relaxed than she had felt in a long time.

((Upcoming Chapter Forty - Three))

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