"Are you ready?"

Faeryn asked Thranduil one more time as she was helping the elven prince with his hair. Professionally, the elleth turned to his back and began to straighten the king's famous golden robe. Should anyone did not know Faeryn, they would have thought she was simply a normal silvan elf for her skilled performances. The she elf made herself busy, dashing here and there, when to find the hairbrush, when to find his newly made shoes. Faeryn sometimes cursed, too, when she found out a stubborn strand of hair that just wouldn't settle where it was supposed to be.

"Don't get nervous, okay?" Faeryn reminded Thranduil carefully of what should he do when the time comes.

Since that morning when she made her way in and helped the prince ready, she had refused to meet his eyes. She had never been afraid to look in those eyes before, only this time she was truly terrified to show Thranduil how scared she was of this day. Faeryn was aware that thing were going to be different from this day on, to Thranduil and to both of them; he would be their king the moment the crown was set on his head along with such responsibility to the kingdom's fate and its people.

"You've told me the exact same thing for a while, Faeryn. I'm not even a bit nervous." She heard Thranduil said but all the elleth managed to do was to nod bluntly.

"I know... but just don't be." And then Faeryn went back to brushing his hair, for the fifthtieth time. She felt like fainting, which was absolutely ridiculous but the elf could not help the range. The elleth laughed silently in her head for being too sensitive.

Suddenly her hand became stuck, and Faeryn looked up to see a very annoyed Thranduil gawking his eyes at her. She tried yanking his grip away but like usual, the stronger elf just would not let go. "What are you doing? Let me go." Faeryn testily demanded her freedom as she started hitting his hand with the 'harmless' brush.

"I will if you guarantee that you'll stop it." She opened her mouth to protest. She did not do anything crazy, did she? Thranduil was faster, unfornatually, he had cut Faeryn off instantly by putting his hand over her mouth and blocked any possible verbal sense from being voiced. "And what I meant by it including doing my hair until you are suffice but apparently, you won't be until the next hundred years, soothing my clothes and won't stop even when there's nothing left to soothe and..."

"I get it! I'll stop." Faeryn rolled her green orbs, threw the brush and herself onto the bed. She had lied there and stared at the ceiling for a brief moment before telling the smirking soon-to-be king at the end of the bed. "How rude, Thranduil. How rude." Faeryn kicked her feet slightly in the air as they hit his legs, Thranduil caught one in one catch.

Faeryn bolted up in the speed of life and was about to crawl away when Thranduil pulled her back by the foot. "You shouldn't have called a prince rude, dear Faeryn," his eyes glowed with joy when he said so, "You will be punished for this."

"Ah ah, no! I'm ticklish!" She yelped and started laughing in panic as his fingers moved under her feet. "Not... f... fai... fair...! St... stop it, Thranduil!" Faeryn found herself having trouble breathing since all she could manage to form in verbal were hysterical laughter.

But only when the elleth's eyes had teared did her friend stopped; he could not help but chuckle at how adorable she was with her face all painted with crimson. Faeryn sank into the blanket where she had made sure that Thranduil would not play any tricks and glared at him with discontent. "You are going to pay for this." The she elf mumbled childishly with her face glued to the pillow.

Later of the incident, Faeryn had decided to be generous and set aside her little revenge. A silvan elf had come looking for her afterwards to get prepared and so she left Thranduil's chamber.

"I'll meet you outside the throne room. Don't be late, alright?" Thranduil had told her before she left for the makeover; Faeryn nodded.

"I'll be the one in blue." Waving at the prince for the last time, she turned around and followed the other she elf.

As Faeryn pushed open the door of her chamber, she smiled at the sight of a beautiful blue dress laid nicely on the mattress. It was her best gown and she only wore it on exclusively special occasions. The fabulous fabric of velvet touched her skin as the elleth traced its sophisicated details of sewed patterns; Faeryn had only worn the dress once and it was in Mereth Nuin Giliath - The Feast of Starlight last year, as a gift from her father Laebon. So vivid the feast was and how alive it had always been in her memory; everyone would be dancing and laughing with joy under the magnificent sky filled with dazzling stars.

The Feast was the biggest expectation of Faeryn whenever a new year came and it had never failed to surprise her. Last year was like a dream and Faeryn had thought she was completely lost in amazement when Thranduil escorted her to the party. The elleth found herself incapable of describing the Feast in exact words, even the phrase enchantedly mesmeric was feared to be insufficient.

"What's on your mind, my Lady?" Questioned Mireth - the silvan elf's name as Faeryn had learned on their way back.

Unlike many people who accommodated in the palace, Faeryn did not own a maid nor did she want one. Despite growing up with a royal and being the kingdom's most respected healer daughter, she never thought herself to be a highly ranked elf but more as a friend to those who are not. Therefore, Faeryn did everything herself from making the bed to fishing food from the kitchen, sometimes she watched her own clothes, too, as she had felt like wasting time wandering around doing nothing.

"Please, Mireth, I am flattered." Faeryn chuckled at the title. It was not the first time of the elleth being addressed as Lady Faeryn and it definitely was not the first time she had tried in vain to fix the habit.

The maid shook her head at the comment given. "You are a true Lady. Everyone knows how much our late king Oropher and our to-be-king Lord Thranduil appreciate you, Lady Faeryn."

"Let's get ready for the time to come. I'll be fine on my own. Thank you, dear Mireth." Faeryn smiled as she motioned the other elf to let her be. Mireth glanced at the door reluctantly, wasn't sure if it was considered irresponsible to leave. "You need to get yourself well dressed too, my friend. The ceremony will start at noon and you'd better be hurry. Your job is done here and I appreciate your company." Faeryn led the confused Mireth to the door, the Silvan elf left eventually as her Lady stood and watched her depart.

Faeryn closed the door and sighed, she marched to the bed, picked up the garment and as the Silvan elf took another look at it, she let out another tiring sigh. Faeryn stripped off her clothes and decided to go for a dip; the moment water splashed onto her fair skin, the elleth was completely relaxed while sinking deeper under the surface.

She did not waste much time on the bath as she had kept that in her mind that to keep track of time, thus, Faeryn after drying off, she quickly dressed herself with the blue velvet. The robe hugged her body perfectly as if it was made to fit the owner's size and the light blue colour brightened up Faeryn's skin just how she liked it. The satistfaction brought by her own reflection raged on all over again as it had reminded Faeryn of the first time wearing the gift; Laebon did have a keen eye on beauty, after all.

As promised, Faeryn met Thranduil at the doors. She had recognized him right away with one glance at his hair before speeded up until she found herself running. Faeryn approached the prince as he turned around for her presence; Thranduil looked perfect like always and was even more beautiful when smiling down at the raven haired maiden. The elleth smiled back, her hand moved to tuck a stray hair behind the ear.

"This is it." She told him. "It's your day."

Thranduil nodded, his blue eyes met her green ones for a moment that felt like forever and the prince found himself stronger than ever before.

"I'll be standing along your sideway, alright? Next to my father is where you should find me." Faeryn reminded him, she looked like she wanted to say something other than that but was cut off by a loud, hurried horn. "I have to go." She gave him a small squeeze on the hand before blending into the rows of people.

Faeryn made her way through the room and stopped as she saw her father talking to the High Advisor, the two elves were well dressed with adequated formality for the Coronation.

"Father," She greeted the healer first, then turned to give the Advisor a feminine bow as a deal of respect, "Sir Illuman. I bid you well." The elf nodded curtly, then both man soon carried on with their little conversation, leaving the young elleth counting every second down to her prince's presence.

The door was pushed open shortly later, taking everybody's attention; they have acknowledged instantly that the new king would be crowned in no time.  People quickly settled in, the music was played, and no one made another sound as they waited for Thranduil. To elves, Coronations are more than rare since they were immortal and unless their ruler was truly a bastard, nobody would expect this day; to Woodland Realm, since Oropher built his kingdom here, he had always been the only one to rule, and now it was his son to take the legacy.

At last, Thranduil presented himself to the attendants, his hair fell perfectly on his back, and with the prince's crown sat still on the top of his bleach blonde head, Thranduil steadily approached the awaiting throne. Everyone trusted Woodland Realm in his hand, and only that secured Faeryn more than anything could have. The Advisors, the Generals,... they watched their prince grew up and became mature, they saw the potential of a great ruler in him, one who cares for his people's needs and life, they said.

Thranduil had gotten closer to her now, Faeryn studied his expression carefully, and when Thranduil was only ten feet away from her, he smiled, he smiled a barely detectable smile but Faeryn could see it as visible as day and it felt like sunshine in her heart. Faeryn did not know how long had she been holding her breath, but only after he had made his way to the throne did she finally find air again. Standing proudly at the chair's feet, Thranduil scanned through every face that filled up the room, Faeryn watched him from the below with thrill.

"My Lord, is your Highness willing to take the Oath?" Asked Anglor, the highest ranked of the Members, his influent on the monarchy was strong and his will was greatly considered, however, Faeryn did not trust the man.

"I am willing." Replied Thranduil, that was the first question and so he was ready to answer the following rest.

"Will you solemnly promise and swear to rule the Peoples of Woodland Realm and of your Possessions and the other Territories to any of them belonging or pertaining, according to their respective laws and customs?"

"I solemnly promise to do so." Below where the Silvan elves were, one was tuning in the oath.

"Will you to your power cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgements?"

"I will." She followed every movement of his lips and so did hers moved too.

"Will you to the utmost of your power maintain all such rights and privileges, as by law do or shall appertain to them or any of them?"

"All this I promise to do."

Then Thranduil arised, to sacred objects was carried before him as his solemn oath for his duty to the kingdom was served in the sight of all the people to observe the premisses: on the palm of his right hand held a branch of oak, the mightiest of the trees and which symbolized strength and courage whilst the other rounded tightly Oropher's sword, the one he first brought to this land.

Upon Anglor's hands layed a cushion where the King's Crown was placed, the man elf held the shining piece of metal up in the air just right above Thranduil's head and said.

"And now, I announce you, King of the Woodland Realm, King of the Elves of the Wood, King Thranduil."

His name was hung in silence for a second and the crown slowly made its way to the new ruler. Made of red leaves and berries, the crown represented the Realm's autumn beauty and grace, symbolized power and kindness to all of those who were under the King's rule.

Thranduil had already settled down on the throne built from strong, growing vines when Anglor marched down the aisle as he stood among the elves who were looking up to he who once a prince. "Hail, to our King Thranduil and may Your Majesty govern with might."

Along with the elves, Faeryn came down to her knees with eyes on the floor. So that was it. Thranduil had become a real king and surely would made the late king proud. Only a moment or two, the whole kingdom would see their new king, too, as he would ride his horse down the streets in a parade. Everyone would wave and cheer, they would be happy, seeing that Oropher's son would treat them well.

As he did promise.