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

Act VI

Chapter 46: The Crowning of Elessar

The journey from Rivendell to Gondor was a mixture of serene beauty and simmering tension. The company rode through the lush, verdant valleys of Rivendell, the golden light of dawn casting a warm glow over the landscape. Birds sang melodious tunes, and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze provided a soothing backdrop to their journey. Arien rode alongside her family, the bond between them strengthening with each passing mile.

Elladan and Elrohir, ever the protective brothers, kept a watchful eye on their sister. They engaged her in light-hearted conversation, reminiscing about their childhood and sharing stories of their adventures. Arwen rode with grace, her presence a calming influence on the group. The joy of her upcoming union with Aragorn was palpable, and her radiant smile lit up their path.

Arien, however, was determined to keep her distance from Legolas. The tension between them was undeniable, and she did her best to ignore him. She focused on her family, enjoying the rare moments of closeness with Elrond, Arwen, and the twins. Yet, there was an undercurrent of unresolved anger that simmered within her.

One evening, as they made camp by a clear, bubbling brook, Elladan approached Arien. The moonlight cast a silvery sheen over the water, and the soft murmur of the brook added to the tranquility of the night.

"Arien," Elladan began gently, "I understand that you and Legolas have had your differences, but this journey is not just about us. It is Arwen's time to shine, to unite with Aragorn and bring hope to Middle-earth. We must not let our personal conflicts overshadow this."

Arien sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know, Elladan. I want to see Arwen happy. I will do my best to avoid any encounters with Legolas. This is her moment, and I do not wish to ruin it."

Elladan smiled, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "That's all I ask, sister. Let us focus on the joy of the occasion."

The following days saw Arien making a concerted effort to keep her distance from Legolas. She rode ahead or lagged behind, ensuring they did not cross paths. When they stopped to rest, she busied herself with tasks that kept her away from him. It was a delicate dance of avoidance, and for the most part, it worked.

As they journeyed south, they eventually met with Galadriel and her entourage. The Lady of Lothlórien greeted them with her usual grace, her eyes keenly observing the dynamics within the group. She took Arien aside one evening, the two of them walking along a moonlit path lined with ancient trees.

"Arien," Galadriel said, her voice like a gentle breeze, "I see that you have grown much since we last met. You have embraced your identity as Elrond's daughter, and it suits you well."

Arien smiled, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Thank you. It has been a journey of self-discovery."

"Indeed," Galadriel replied, her gaze turning more serious. "But I sense a fire within you, a lingering anger that could consume you if left unchecked. Be mindful of how you channel this anger, for it can lead you astray."

Arien nodded, the weight of Galadriel's words sinking in. "I will be careful, my lady. I do not wish to let my anger define me."

Galadriel placed a gentle hand on Arien's cheek. "Remember, you are stronger than you know. Use that strength wisely."

As they continued their journey, the company rode through varying landscapes—rolling hills, dense forests, and open plains. The air was filled with the scents of blooming flowers and fresh grass, a stark contrast to the war-torn lands they had left behind. They passed through villages and towns, the people greeting them with warmth and gratitude.

Throughout the journey, Arien and Legolas maintained their distance. There were moments when their paths crossed briefly, a fleeting glance exchanged, but they both kept their emotions in check. The tension was ever-present, but they were united in their purpose—to see Arwen and Aragorn's union come to fruition.

As they neared Gondor, the White City of Minas Tirith came into view, its majestic towers gleaming in the sunlight. The sight filled them with a renewed sense of purpose and hope. The journey had been long and fraught with challenges, but they had arrived at their destination, ready to witness the dawn of a new era.

As dawn broke over Minas Tirith, the company reached the grand gates of the White City. The sun's rays bathed the gleaming white towers in a golden hue, casting a radiant light that signified a new beginning. A contingent of guards awaited them, ready to take care of their horses and guide them to their rooms. The preparations had been meticulously overseen by Faramir, who knew the city's layout intimately, and Éowyn, who had quickly adapted to her role in the city. The bond between Faramir and Éowyn was evident; they moved with a synchrony that spoke of a deep and growing understanding.

The guards efficiently handled the horses, leading them to the stables while the travelers were escorted to their respective quarters. Faramir himself welcomed them, his demeanor calm and composed. He greeted Elrond, Arwen, the twins, Arien, and Legolas with the respect and warmth befitting their status.

"Welcome to Minas Tirith," Faramir said, his voice steady. "The city is honored by your presence. We have prepared rooms for you to rest and refresh before the festivities."

Éowyn joined him, her eyes sparkling with the joy of seeing her friends again. "It is good to see you all," she said warmly. "Please, make yourselves at home. We have ensured everything is ready for the coronation."

Arwen smiled gracefully, thanking them both. "Your hospitality is deeply appreciated," she said. "We look forward to the celebrations."

The company was shown to their rooms, each prepared with care. The chambers were adorned with rich tapestries and fresh flowers, a testament to the efforts taken to make them comfortable. Arien noted the thoughtful touches—a vase of wildflowers by her window, reminiscent of Rivendell, and a basin of fresh water scented with lavender.

Aragorn, meanwhile, was in his quarters, being assisted by Gimli. The dwarf, with his usual gruff affection, fussed over Aragorn's attire, ensuring every detail was perfect.

"Hold still, Aragorn," Gimli grumbled good-naturedly. "You need to look like a king, not a wanderer."

Aragorn chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Your attention to detail is commendable, Gimli. I shall look the part, thanks to you."

Gimli stepped back, surveying his handiwork. Aragorn was dressed in a regal robe of deep blue, embroidered with silver thread. His sword, Andúril, hung at his side, gleaming in the morning light.

Arwen, in her room, was attended by a few elven maidens. She wore a flowing gown of white silk, delicate silver embroidery tracing intricate patterns across the fabric. A circlet of mithril and pearls rested on her brow, and her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in gentle waves. Her eyes shone with a light that mirrored the joy in her heart.

Arien opted for a gown of emerald green, the color reflecting the vibrancy of nature. The dress was simple yet elegant, with subtle gold accents that complemented her dark hair, which she had braided with small flowers interwoven. Despite the grandeur of the occasion, she felt a deep sense of belonging and peace.

Legolas, in his quarters, chose an attire befitting his princely status yet understated in elegance. He wore a tunic of light beige, embroidered with silver leaves, and a cloak of soft grey that flowed gracefully as he moved. His golden hair was left loose, framing his noble features, and an elfish circlet. He paused, looking at his reflection, a mixture of anticipation and calm in his eyes.

As they all prepared for the day's events, a sense of unity and purpose-filled the air. Each one played a significant role in the unfolding history of Middle-earth, and they were ready to stand by Aragorn and Arwen as they embarked on their new journey together.

On the summit of Minas Tirith, the courtyard was filled with citizens eager to witness the coronation of their true king on the first day of Lótessë. The massive white doors of the Citadel had swung open, revealing a sea of faces—friends, relatives, and strangers alike, all gathered to celebrate this historic moment. The air was thick with anticipation, and the vibrant energy of the crowd was palpable.

Gandalf and Aragorn emerged at the top of the steps, the future king clad in armor adorned with the symbol of Gondor. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices a chorus of adoration for their new ruler. Arwen stood beside Elrond, her arm entwined with his, a radiant smile lighting up her face. As Gandalf placed the crown on Aragorn's head, Arwen beamed with joy, her heart swelling with pride as she heard the twins' jubilant shouts in the background. Legolas, too, was smiling, and even Arien found herself swept up in the happiness of the moment, setting aside her lingering anger with the elven prince.

It was a fairytale come to life, the vibrant colors and joyous atmosphere momentarily pausing all discord. Today was Aragorn's day.

Gimli, with a solemn expression, handed Gandalf a silver crown. The wizard took it with reverence, then placed it gently upon Aragorn's head. Kneeling before Gandalf, Aragorn received the crown with humility. The wizard smiled warmly, murmuring a few elvish words to bless the new king. "Now come the days of the king. May they be blessed," Gandalf proclaimed, his voice ringing out over the crowd.

Aragorn rose to his feet, turning to address the assembled citizens. "This day does not belong to one man, but to all. Let us together rebuild this world that we may share in the days of peace." His words were met with thunderous applause, a collective sigh of relief and hope washing over the crowd. After so many years of battles and wars, peace had finally come, and Gondor had a king once more.

As the ceremonial song concluded, Aragorn made his way through the throng, greeting those who had come to celebrate. Faramir and Éowyn approached, bowing respectfully. Both were dressed in elegant formal attire, their appearances radiant and dignified. Their wounds had healed, and their hearts had found solace in each other. As they spoke with Aragorn, it was clear that their bond had grown deeper in the days leading up to the coronation.

King Éomer and Princess Lothíriel were next to greet the new king. Éomer, now the King of Rohan, stood tall and proud, while Lothíriel's presence exuded grace and beauty. Their story was yet unknown to many, but their unity and strength were evident. They bowed and exchanged words with Aragorn, solidifying the alliance between their realms.

Suddenly, a troop of luminous Elves appeared, gracefully blocking the King's path. Legolas stepped forward, his princely attire and finely coiffed hair shining in the morning light. A circlet adorned his head, adding to his regal appearance. Aragorn and Legolas embraced warmly, their hands resting on each other's shoulders. "My friend," Aragorn said, his voice filled with gratitude. "You have been by my side through it all. I am honored to call you my brother."

Legolas stepped aside, revealing Elrond and Arwen. As Aragorn gazed in awe, Elrond gently guided Arwen towards him. The King, momentarily overcome with emotion, looked at Arwen with amazement and love. For so long, he had believed they would never be together, but this moment proved otherwise. Aragorn rushed to her side, taking her hands in his. They gazed into each other's eyes, the love between them evident to all. Their kiss was deep and lingering, a promise of the life they would share.

Finally, Aragorn reached the four hobbits of the Fellowship, who bowed awkwardly before him. "My friends," he said, his voice breaking with emotion, "you bow to no one." In a gesture of profound respect, Aragorn knelt before the hobbits, and the entire crowd followed suit. Tears filled the eyes of those gathered as they honored the hobbits who had saved Middle-earth. Their bravery and sacrifices had brought about the end of Sauron's reign, and their deeds would be remembered in songs and tales for generations to come.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the celebration continued as a testament to the resilience and unity of Middle-earth. The new era had begun, and with Aragorn as their king, the people looked forward to a future filled with peace and prosperity.

The celebration of the new King had moved to the grand halls, where a sumptuous feast awaited. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement and joy as the attendees eagerly anticipated the festivities. Aragorn and Arwen led the procession, walking side by side and engaged in a gentle conversation.

"Arwen, I cannot express how much I have longed for this moment," Aragorn said softly, his eyes filled with love as they walked.

Arwen smiled, her eyes sparkling. "I too have dreamt of this day, Estel. To see you crowned as the King of Gondor, and to stand by your side, brings me more joy than words can convey."

Aragorn squeezed her hand gently. "Your presence gives me strength, my love. Together, we shall rebuild this world and usher in a new era of peace."

Behind them, Elrond and Galadriel walked together, their expressions serene yet tinged with bittersweet emotions.

"Celebrían would be so proud to see Arwen now," Galadriel remarked softly, her eyes distant as she recalled her daughter's gentle spirit.

Elrond nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. "Yes, she would be. However, I cannot help but feel the weight of grief that awaits Arwen at the end of this journey. But Arwen has chosen her path, and I will respect her choice to live beside Aragorn."

Galadriel placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "She is strong, and their love is pure. Trust in that, Elrond."

Further back, Elladan and Legolas walked side by side, their conversation centered on the happiness of their friends.

"It is heartening to see Aragorn and Arwen so happy," Elladan remarked, glancing at Legolas.

"Indeed," Legolas replied, his tone formal yet warm. "Their love has endured much, and it is fitting that they now find peace together."

Meanwhile, Gimli and Arien walked together, their spirits high as they discussed the day's events.

"It's a grand day for Middle-earth, lass," Gimli said, beaming. "To see Aragorn crowned and Arwen by his side—it's like a tale come true."

Arien nodded, smiling. "It is. I'm glad to be here to witness it all."

Their conversation soon shifted as Arien noticed Legolas walking ahead, wearing a circlet. "Look at Legolas with that circlet. He almost looks princely," she teased, her voice carrying a playful tone.

Gimli chuckled. "Aye, he does. Though I think he'd rather be out in the woods than wearing that finery."

Legolas, who overheard their conversation, chose to ignore the playful jibes for now, his focus remaining on the joyous occasion.

As they entered the grand halls, the opulence of the surroundings took their breath away. Banners of silver and gold adorned the walls, and long tables were laden with an abundance of food and drink. Chandeliers glittered from above, casting a warm glow over the assembled guests.

Musicians played soft melodies, adding to the enchanting atmosphere. The scent of roasted meats, fresh bread, and spiced wine filled the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and conversation. It was a celebration befitting the coronation of a king.

Aragorn and Arwen took their places at the head of the hall, their seats elevated on a dais adorned with flowers and greenery. Elrond and Galadriel sat nearby, their presence lending an air of grace and wisdom to the gathering.

Elladan and Legolas found their seats, continuing their conversation with an easy camaraderie. Gimli and Arien settled down as well, their playful banter a testament to the strong bond they shared.

As the feast began, toasts were made in honor of the new king and queen. Aragorn stood, raising his goblet high. "To a future filled with peace and prosperity for all of Middle-earth," he proclaimed, his voice resonating through the hall.

The guests echoed his toast, their voices united in a chorus of celebration. The night wore on with dancing, music, and merriment, a fitting tribute to the dawn of a new era.

Despite the undercurrent of personal tensions, the grandeur of the occasion held sway, and for this night, at least, all hearts were united in joy and hope.

((Upcoming Chapter Forty - Seven))

Thank you for taking the time to read this! Feel free to Review - Follow - Favorite!