We had all watched in horror as the lava spewed from Mount Doom. I had been certain that Frodo had died.

As it turns out, both Sam and Frodo had survived. After the battle, Gandalf had mounted an Eagle and scooped them up from the volcano edge. He had taken them back to Minas Tirith immediately while the rest of us had the task of marching back to the city, hoping that the Halflings did not die while we were away.

The ride back to Minas Tirith was uneventful, the horses were rugged and the men were sluggish. We stopped to rest that night so the injured could be properly be tended to.

We reached the White City by midday and we all immediately rushed to the infirmary ward to check up on Sam and Frodo.

Sam was the first to wake. He looked different to last I saw him, all those months ago. His usual chipper smile was gone, replaced by a gaunt and obviously forced smile. His port belly had seemed to be depleted a little, he looked as if he hadn't even in weeks.

Gandalf was sat by Frodo's bed. I knew that he felt guilty for everything that happened to Frodo. Saruman had poked at that wound back at Isengard, about what words of comfort Gandalf had given Frodo before throwing him to his death.

According to the healers, Frodo would likely be laid up in bed for a day or two. As much as we all wanted to see him wake, we were still fresh from battle.

We pressed for Sam to recount the events that led him to Mount Doom. He wasn't as cheerful as last we saw him but that was to be suspected given the account of his journey. My heart wept for him, I hated that the poor Hobbits had to go through this. I wondered how Frodo was feeling.

That evening, I retired to Legolas' room. After all that happened, I didn't feel like being alone. Also, he was my favourite pillow.

"What do we do now?" I asked as I sighed, resting my head on him as we laid down.

"What do you mean?" He asked curiously.

"I mean, the Ring has been destroyed. What do we do now?" I repeated myself quietly.

Sure, we had all joked about what we wanted to do after the Ring was destroyed but none of us actually thought we would be alive to see the day again.

"I don't know. I suppose we go our separate ways..." He mused.

"Together," I smiled, wrapping my arms around him and falling asleep.

***

The next day, we all sat in the courtyard, next to Frodo's room. We waiting in silence, anxious as to when the Halfling would wake.

Sam was the most on edge, I could tell. I couldn't blame him, he had just spent the better part of months with Frodo.

To our relief, news had been brought from Mirkwood concerning the siege. The fighting had ceased with King Thranduil's victory.

I could tell Legolas was immensely relieved by the news, knowing not only was his father was alive and well, but Mirkwood had survived as well. I had no doubt that after Aragorn's coronation, he would hurry back to Mirkwood.

It was around mid afternoon when we heard laughter from Frodo's room. Merry and Pippin were immediately on their feet, rushing into the room, the rest of us following suite.

"Frodo!" They exclaimed, jumping into the bed and hugging their dear friend.

"Gimli!" Frodo chuckled as the dwarves marched into the room, a broad smile on his face.

I linked my arm with Legolas as we followed behind Gimli, Frodo's eyes lighting up at the sight of us. Aragorn joined us next, we stood at the foot of the bed, watching the Hobbits with warm smiles.

Frodo's laughter died down a little as Sam walked in and stood by the door. His smile was almost sad now, both of them having been through so much.

We decided to leave the Hobbits alone. As much as we all wanted to talk with Frodo, we could tell that this journey had changed both Frodo and Sam. Best leave them with Merry and Pippin, people who reminded them of home.

***

The week had flown by and soon it was the eve of Aragorn's coronation.

Though our reunion with Frodo and Sam had been joyous, I found that the two Hobbits weren't as talkative nowadays. Frodo rarely spoke and when he did, I could hear the sadness in his words.

I decided not to press the matter as I could only imagine the things the must have been through with the Ring.

I was no longer hiding the fact I was sharing Legolas' room. We all had been through a lot and for once, I didn't care about what others thought of me.

When I wasn't with the rest of the Fellowship, I was down at the royal forge. After the battle, there was quite a lot of work for the blacksmiths now. Armour needed to be repaired and new weapons had to be made for the armoury. I busied myself with crafting swords and helms. I hoped that armour like this never needed to get used, after all, Middle-Earth had just been saved by the greatest of evils. However, if my long elf life has taught me anything, it's that peace doesn't always last and at least someone in the world, there's a war being fought.

Many people from across Middle-Earth were journeying to Minas Tirith for the coronation. Some Dwarves, some Elves.

Everyone was waiting in anticipation for the coronation of the rightful King.

Lord Elrond and Arwen had arrived the day before the ceremony but we were all under strict instructions not to tell Aragorn.

Deciding I was going to join the group of Elves with Legolas, I decided to find something a little more formal for me to wear.

Legolas had a silver gown and had a tiara in his blonde hair. I couldn't stop snorting with laughter and teasing him about being a Princess.

I was also forgoing my black ranger gear in favour of some formal attire.

By that, I meant I decided to wear a dress. A proper dress this time, not a nightdress or a short dress; I was going to wear a proper dress.

It was actually quite a good match to Legolas' attire because it was a dark silver colour. It reached down to my ankles and the sleeves were billowing. It was still quite loose (just because I was going to be formal didn't mean I was risking suffocation)

I even decided to leave my weapons in our room before I took Legolas' arm.

We walked in comfortable silence as we joined the progression of elves amongst the growing crowd around the White Tree of Gondor which was finally in bloom after so many years.

The crowd ceased talking the second the great doors opened. Out stood Aragorn, dressed in the garb of kings, a dark cloak over his shoulders. Gandalf followed suite as Gimli stepped out as well, holding a cushion on which sat the crown of Gondor.

Gandalf stood on the top of the steps as Aragorn knelt down in front of him, bowing his head. We all watched in awe as the white wizard carefully too the silver crown from the cushion and placed it slowly upon Aragorn's head.

"Now come the days of the king," Gandalf announced to everyone, a proud smile on his face as Aragorn stood back up.

He seemed to have muttered something else to Aragorn but we weren't close enough to hear.

As Aragorn turned to regard the huge body of people gathered for his coronation.

He looked truly splendid with the crown upon his head. His warm smile may not have changed but his stature had certainly differed. He was proud, he was welcoming, he was kingly.

I had met Aragorn nearly fifty years prior. I was traveling North for a new sense of adventure when I ran into him. It wasn't rare to see all sorts of people in a tavern such as the one we had met at, but Aragorn seemed different.

All the others in the tavern were drinking, gambling and boasting about creatures they had slayed even though we all knew that to be folly. They were loud and red in the face from mead and ale. That was to be expected, they were men after all.

Being on such a well traveled road, the tavern certain had seen its fair share of characters over the years, I myself had been there a few times whenever the opportunity called.

As expected, many of the drunks would come wobbling up to me and spit out their pick up lines to me.

After breaking a few noses and winning a lot of arm wrestles, I finally earned myself a place at the bar.

I was used to this kind of reception whenever I entered what was considered a 'male domain' but there was one particular person who I noted didn't react to my presence.

A cloaked man was sitting in the corner of the tavern, a mug of ale in front of him and a pipe in his hand. We wasn't like the others, we wasn't drunk and wasn't laughing to death while jesting about some quest he had been on. He was just sat there. I knew he was a ranger when first I saw him, his armour was light and made of material which would render him barely audible when outside.

He looked like he might actually have some common sense and manners, so I took my pint of ale and walked over to his table, flopping down into the seat opposite.

"What's a ranger like you doing in an over-priced place like this?" I asked with a smirk as he took another puff of his pipe.

"Ranger? What gives you that impression my lady?" He asked, pulling down his hood a little so I could see his face.

"Don't take me for a fool. You're nothing like those red faced drunken harlots," I scoffed, quaffing my ale heartily, "What's your name?"

"Strider." He replied bluntly, a calloused hand reaching out for me to shake.

"That's a fake but ok," I smirked, taking his hand as he raised a curious eyebrow at me, "You must be one lucky man if your parents called you 'Strider' just out of coincidence."

He huffed in amusement, a smile forming onto his face.

In fact, I did not learn his real name until years later. By that time, I had met him on my travels various times.

It was perhaps the fifth year of our acquaintance that I realised something about him. He didn't seem to have aged at all since when I first saw him at that tavern. Maybe it was just my elven ignorance but I could have sworn that men aged over a span of years.

Apparently I was trustworthy enough to know his true self. It was then, I finally realised that I had just made friends with the hidden King of Gondor.

And there he stood, proud as he stood looking out to the keep of Minas Tirith to the crowd.We all cheered loudly as he did so.

"This day does not belong to one man, but to all" He said proudly, "Let us together rebuild this world that we may share in the days of peace."

I clapped heartily along with the crowd. Finally, a just and fair King on the throne of men, I never thought I would see this day.

As the blossoms of the White Tree fluttered down amongst us, Aragorn slowly and softly began to sing in elvish. It was an unorthodox way of announcing oneself king but I thought it fitting for Aragorn. He wasn't a typical king, born in exile, raised in Rivendell and lived as a ranger.

"Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta." He sang in soft elvish, the melody of the language and the words of the song (though deaf to those whom didn't speak the elvish tongue) ringing through Minas Tirith.

'Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.' I couldn't think of a better way to start a reign than with those words.

His song over, Aragorn decended the steps and walked graciously through the crowd, being greeted by everyone around him.

Éowyn stood to the side with a tiara placed on her head. She was hand in hand with the young Captain of Gondor whom I had learnt recently was Boromir's brother. Faramir was much like his brother, except for a lack of an egotistical pride.

I could see something sparkle in Éowyn's eyes as he wrapped an arm around her. She was smiling again and had a certain glow about her.

She had mentioned before about me and Legolas having a certain look about us when together. Was that a look of live upon her cheek? If so, I was happy for them, perhaps it was just me who had been so oblivious to love than everyone else.

Éomer came forth next, bowing respectfully to the new King.

When Aragorn came towards us, we stepped forward with the rest of the elves. He let a broad smile onto his face as he slapped a hand to Legolas' shoulder and another hand to my shoulder, holding us as arms length in a brotherly embrace.

"I wish you two all the blessings in the world," He said softly in elvish, looking between us with a smile.

Legolas smiled warmly and gestured to Aragorn to look over his shoulder. I couldn't contain my smile as well as I knew who Aragorn would see.

He stopped in his tracks as we turned to watch the display. The elves holding the banners revealed themselves from behind the flowing flag. Lord Elrond stood behind Arwen, a smile gracing his lips as he looked between his daughter and the King.

"Go to him," I heard Elrond whisper in Arwen's ear.

Arwen stepped timidly towards him, the banner still held up high. I watched in anticipation as they neared each other.

I could see Arwen's eyes brimming with tears as she neared him while he seemed to only look back at her with one emotion; awe.

We watched in silence as he took the banner from her hands and held it out absently for someone else to hold.

Arwen bowed her head respectfully but Aragorn only looked at her with slight confusion. He delicately placed his hand under her chin and tilted it upwards so their eyes were now locked together.

The seconds that went by felt like an eternity for the rest of us. Finally, Aragorn leaned down quickly, kissing her passionately as he twirled her around.

I cheered and clapped along with the crowd as Aragorn wept for joy at seeing her.

I felt Legolas entwine his hand with mine and I looked up at him and he was smiling at me.

"Don't push your luck, Princess," I mused but I squeezed his hand nonetheless and leant up to place a small kids to his cheek so he didn't feel completely lonely, bless him.

We watched as Aragorn led Arwen through the crowd. Both of them couldn't stop smiling as both of them seemed to have that familiar sparkle in their eyes.

Was love just running rampant throughout Middle-Earth or had I been living under a rock all my life. And no, the Mines of Moria do not count!

As the two approached Merry, Pippin, Sam and Frodo, the Hobbits all bowed in respect. Aragorn seemed puzzled by this but he smiled softly and approached them.

"My friends, you bow to no one."

And with that, the King of Gondor dropped to his knees, bowing down to the four Hobbits who stood before him. The crowd, seeing their newly crowned King bow, all did the same.

And for once, the Hobbits were taller than everyone.

I looked up from my knees and saw the Hobbits now standing out in the courtyard of stone. I couldn't help but chuckle at how uncomfortable they all seemed, except for Pippin who continued to smile happily, as chipper as ever.

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