Elessar and Arwen: A Love Unfading

The Crownless Again Shall Be King

       The guards of Minas Tirith watched eagerly for dawn as they stood their posts. At the first crack of dawn, a bell was rung, and operations continued throughout the city. All arose, and throughout the city a joy coursed. Their beloved steward, Faramir, had held a meeting with the Lords of Gondor, and it was unanimously decided that Isildur's heir should take his place upon the throne of Gondor. The joy of the people ran through the streets like a fountain as they prepared to welcome their king.

       Out in the fields of Pelennor, the captains of the West made their final preparations and marched forth until they reached what had once been the gate of the city. The gate was no more as it had been destroyed by the armies of Mordor, but in its stead, a great many wooden beams were placed blocking the Dunedain and their companions from entering the city.

       In front of these beams stood the Lord Faramir and by his side stood Eowyn, the lady of Rohan. Beside and slightly behind stood marshalls of the mark and of the white city. The captains of the west stopped, and from their company emerged the Dunedain led by Aragorn. Few were permitted to walk alongside him, but of those few were the four halflings, Eomer, and Gandalf.

       He wore the traditional black and silver of Gondor with a great cloak upon his shoulders, pinned with a bright green gem that shone from afar. As he approached the lords of the city, his face was solemn, his fate was near. His raven hair blew slightly in the wind as he approached the gates of the city.

        He met Faramir respectfully here, and Faramir surrendered to the king what was rightfully his. On this day Aragorn son of Arathron, a ranger of the north, Dunedain, the descendant of Isildur, was crowned king of Gondor, and all the crowds rejoiced.

       It was not a boisterous cheer, but one that came from the heart, a true joy came over the company as they saw, at last, their king. Aragorn stood, looking out among the people, his heart was full of joy, but his mind soon wandered as he looked out amongst the people. Once again he touched the green gem and whispered, "Cova meleth nin."

       It was with great joy that Aragorn entered the city and began his duty. It soon became apparent that just because Sauron had been defeated did not mean that this was a time of rest. Days flew by as Aragorn judged and parleyed with all who came to him. Eomer and the host of Rohan returned, and all authority of kingship rested on the broad shoulders of Aragorn. Often he spoke to the hobbits of the reason they were staying, though he spoke of it guardingly, "a day draws near that I have looked for in all the years of my manhood."

Tirelessly it seemed the king mended treaties, and parleyed with broken nations throughout middle earth. What many did not know, there were many nights that he did not rest at all but worked through the night by the light of a candle to finish the tasks at hand, and most days only one meal, or two at most, were eaten by the king. Though blessed as a descendant of Numenor, Gandalf could begin to see the weariness take hold of him.

       Convincing Aragorn to take some rest the night before, early one morning, Gandalf took Aragorn up to the slopes of the mountain to gaze upon the beauty of the realm. It was there that a tree was found of such great beauty that it was deemed worthy to replace the white tree that had for so long grown in the city of Minas Tirith.

       As Aragorn gently placed the tree in the ground, a sense washed over him. He could feel her, she was there, right beside him. For a moment he dared not turn, and it was wise that he did not for when he did, he saw no one there. Everything in him desired her to be here, near him. His country was at peace, but he was not.

       That night as he worked into the wee hours of the morning, soft footfalls were heard and soon entered the great library where Aragorn sat, hunched over a withered piece of parchment, a new one in hand, as he copied from it. "Aragorn," Legolas said rather severely, "What are you doing at this time of night? You need rest. Tell me, when was the last time you properly rested?"

Aragorn smiled ruefully at his friend, "perhaps a month ago in Ithilien?"

      "You were awake more than half the night caring for the wounded."

"Then I suppose the last time I truly rested was in the forest of Lothlorien," Aragorn said with a slight sigh as he looked back down at the parchment, and continued his work. Legolas sighed as well. His friend had meetings every minute of the day and read laws through the middle of the night. Ambassadors entertained within the king's court in the morning, and as the sky grew dark, the drafting of treaties was begun. Would his friend ever rest? Shaking his head, Legolas left his friend to continue his work.

     A few mornings later, Legolas was surprised to see Aragorn bounding up the stairs, and going about his tasks with great exuberance. It was only moments later that Legolas saw what had caused the joy. In the courtyard, the tree had blossomed, hope for Gondor had been reborn. The sweet scent of its flowers filled the city, and many secret preparations were begun by Aragorn. Of the wise who looked at him, one could see his wisdom and kingly manner, but underneath this, a boyish exuberance was beginning to spring up within him.

       He contained this joy until Midsummer's eve. It was on this day that a glee rose up within him that nothing could contain. Abandoned were all of the dull meetings, and instead, he oversaw the preparation of the entire city. With joy, he gazed out as the sun prepared to set, for his keen eyes saw what none could see yet, and what he saw filled his heart with joy.

𝓐𝓵𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓮 𝓶𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓸𝓷 𝓷𝓲𝓷