Welcome, my merry women, to the last chapter!

Thank you all for sticking around, I hope you enjoy <3

Chapter soundtrack: 'Good Riddance' by Green Day.

♪ = cue music

† Chp. LIV †

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The city of Minas Tirith shines with a white glow, its banners caught high in the breeze as the stone walls reflect the bright, free of evil landscape which cascades the valley. An immense crowd fills the court, as men, elves, and even hobbits combine to attend Aragorn's coronation.

There the man kneels upon the steps of white stone, called home by the silver trumpets. Gleaming armour of high guards fills the court, its scenery decorated by woven flora and raised spears. Gandalf stands before him, draped in an illuminant white cloth and raising a delicately crafted gold and silver coronal.

The crown of Gondor. The crown of kings.

Gandalf lowers the symbol of royalty to rest upon the head of Aragorn, officially crowning him as the King of men. A serene silence fills the court, as many watch the coronation with awe and tear brimmed eyes.

"Now come the days of the King." The wizard proclaims, as the crown sits upon Aragron's head as if crafted to be his. Gandalf lowers his tone, looking down to the king with pride and addressing him in a soft utter.

"May they be blessed."

Aragorn nods, drawing a deep breath, before standing to his feet and turning to face the vast array of onlookers. A loud cheer erupts from the court.

♪

A deep green cloak drapes the body of the man, embellished on the edges with floral designs. Upon his chest sits polished silver, and adorning the crest of his crown blooms the white tree of Gondor. Aragorn's hand rests upon the hilt of Andruil, and in his eyes, a kingly honour is kindled.

The ranger of the North is no more. In his place stands a leader, radiating love and dignity towards his people.

"This day does not belong to one man, but to all." Aragorn speaks with great strength, his words reaching the hearts of the people. "Let us together rebuild this world, that we may share in the days of peace."

Another cheer and applaud breaks from the audience.

Like snowflakes dancing in a welcome to the new king, white petals drift from above, floating softly to the ground as Aragorn begins to sing. The white tree has finally bloomed. Stepping down, he walks through the parted crowd, Gimli close to his side.

Many familiar faces beam back at the king. Eowyn and Faramir bow their heads, wide grins upon their fair faces. Eomer steps out from beside his men, lowering his head in respect for Gondor's new king. A group of elves step forward, and Aragorn smiles at the sight of an ever glowing Legolas.

Reaching out, the king rests his hand upon the elf's shoulder, and Legolas copies the gesture, a soft grin gliding across his light face.

"Hannon lee." Aragorn utters, though no sign of appreciation could display how truely thankful he is for the support of his best friend, a relationship established well before the journey began.

A look of subtle mischief crosses Legolas' face, and the elf gestures for Aragorn to shift his gaze. Following the motion, the King furrows his brows at a held banner, a petite face peeking from behind the white material.

Realisation strikes the man, and he slowly steps forward in awe at the sight of Elrond's daughter.

Arwen appears from behind the banner. The braids of her dark hair touched by no frost, and the light of many stars shining bright in her eyes. Her beauty truly does resemble the likeliness of Luthien.

The two lovers come to stand before each other, tears glistening within Arwen's eyes. Out of respect, she lowers her head to the new king. Aragorn places his hand beneath her chin and lifts her gaze to meet his.

The King leans forward to connect their lips, taking many by surprise as he spins the elf off her feet. An applaud rises from the onlookers, and soft petals continue to fall upon the lovers. Elrond watches the affectionate reunion with teary eyes, both sorrow and pride in his heart as the elf lord comes to accept their love.

Aragorn and Arwen embrace, filled with joy upon holding each other once more. With their fingers entwined, they continue to step through the parting crowd, before coming to halt as four hobbits catch the eye of Gondor's King.

Merry, Frodo, Sam, and Pippin stand in a line, unnoticeable as they are towered by much taller men and women. Unsure of how to react in the presence of such royalty, they look to Aragorn and Arwen with uncertainty, before Frodo leans forward to bow, and the others follow in pursuit.

"My friends." Aragorn speaks out, stepping forward with an affectionate glance. The hobbits raise their curly heads, looking up to the king with confusion as their backs remain tilted in respect.

"You bow to no one." Gondor's king proclaims, his voice layered with great appreciation and humbleness.

With that, Aragorn lowers himself to the ground, kneeling before the hobbits with his head bowed. The rest of the court is soon to follow, each member from every race bowing before the four hobbits who helped in saving Middle Earth.

The halflings are filled with awe, stricken with shock at the large gesture of appreciation. Pippin grins, enjoying the attention.

Tears glisten within Frodo's eyes, as for this moment in time, the four hobbits stand taller than any man in Middle Earth.

Whilst everyone is bowed, a figure can be seen by the far end of the court, though noticed by none, as the hobbits have their backs turned.

There Robin sits, perched like a bird upon the stone ledge, with one leg crossed over the other and her arms folded. A smirk plays on her lips, as she admires the show of appreciation for her little hobbits. A raging fire of pride kindles within her heart, flaming for both Aragorn and the four halflings.

"How bloody beautiful." She utters, wiping a stray tear with her balled fist. "Oh Valar, I've become such a softy."

Following their king, The crowd rises back to their feet, and once again, Robin disappears from view as she is hidden behind the large audience.

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↣ Legølas' P.Ø.V ↢

Aragorn's coronation comes to an end, and Lord Elrond is evidently emotional due to parting with his daughter. I step over to the high elf and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"A mortal life spent in love is better than living an immortal life alone." I assure with a soft utter, speaking my words in elvish tongue. "Aragorn will care for, and treasure Arwen until the end of her days."

"That I trust." Elrond responds in Sindarin, a sad smile adorning his wise face.

I step away, lowering my head. The words in which I spoke flutter through my mind, causing a slight pain to strike my heart.

"'Quel re, heru en amin."

Raising my gaze, I view a fair elleth branding the symbol of Rivendell. Dark curls tuft down to her small waist, framing her smooth, flawless skin. Within her light eyes, I catch a glint of deep wisdom. Her manner is soft and and conserved.

"Elen sila lumenn omentilmo." I respond, admiring her beauty. Though, this elleth does not gift me the sense of lure which I have experienced once before.

"You are a friend of the king?" She questions, her voice light as ringing bells.

"For many years." I reply.

"Your face, it is familiar. You are the son of Thranduil, Legolas Greenleaf, prince of the Woodland realm." The fair elleth remarks, and I nod. "Thank you, my lord, for your service to Middle Earth, and the defeat of evil."

She lowers her head in a bow, and I raise my glance, feeling rather awkward as I survey the crowd who mingle in many seperate conversations.

"Please, describe to me the details of your-"

My attention is diverted from the elleth's words, as I catch a strikingly familiar face within the crowd.

"Eretria?" I question in a soft whisper.

Though, as soon as I sight the young outlaw, she disappears from view, fading into the sea of civilians.

"Apologies, my lord?" The elleth questions, though taking no regard to farewell due to haste, I dash forward, plunging into the bustling crowd.

Navigating my way through the gathering of bodies seems almost impossible, as men are heavy on their feet and slow to move aside. Pushing through, I am close to giving up, blaming my eyes for deception, however the hint of a moss green cloak draws my attention.

The hooded figure once again fades from sight, this time down the array of steps. By the time I manage to part from the crowd, no trace can be seen of the young outlaw.

Dashing down, I leap into the streets, unfamiliar with how deserted they lie. Every civilian and guard dwells above, celebrating Aragorn's coronation.

Blocking the distant sound of chatter, I focus my hearing to the stone below, and manage to pick up light footsteps rushing in a hurried pace. It takes some time to navigate my way through the labyrinth of a city, and my ears detect a distant commotion, leading my feet to race in that particular direction.

By the time I reach the site of interest, it seems as though I am too late, for two bodies of armoured men lay unconscious before a set of dark, descending stairs. A large metal hatch has been pried open, like the jaw of a serpent, the small flicker of a torch dimly illuminating the passage below. Drawing my silver tunic open, I place my hand on the dagger to my side, weary of what threat may lie below as I slowly descend the stone staircase.

My eyes widen upon stepping into a glowing room. Immense piles of gold and treasure glimmer, reflecting the light of mounted torches. Jewels shimmer in many rich shades, and large pillars are decorated in intricate designs. It becomes quite obvious as to where the steps have led, the treasure hold.

The sound of clattering coins rings within my ears, and sharpening my gaze, I view a crouched figure raking a small pile of treasure into a woven sack. With light steps, I sneak forward and approach the cloaked being from behind. With much haste, I pounce forward and pin the figure beneath me whilst drawing my blade to rest upon their jugular.

Tossing the hood from their face, my eyes come to widen.

"Eretria?"

The outlaw's eyes widen is shock, before she meets my gaze, and comes to relax, a lazy grin spreading across her flustered face.

"Well look at that, you've finally caught me." She teases. I lower my dagger, though remain positioned atop her body, pinning Eretria's back against the stone tiles below.

"You are stealing?" I question, rather taken by surprise. My eyes observe the sack, before drawing back to Eretria's vivaciously smug face.

"I'm Robin Hood." She remarks, propping herself by her elbows and lifting her face closer to mine. Her tone drops to a mere whisper.

"It's what I do."

With great suddenty, a larger figure comes barging forward, and I leap off Eretria, extending my dagger to the new threat.

"Steady on, Eomer. It's only Legolas." The young outlaw informs, lifting to her feet as she stands between us. An aggressive fire burns within Eomer's eyes, though this simmers to a cool flame upon Eretria's words. He stands back, observing as Eretria turns to face my direction.

"Why do you steal from Aragorn?" I question, confused by the events of today. "Is he not a friend?"

"Look around, Legolas." Eretria replies, widening her arms as the alluring smirk never seems to leave her face. "We're simply plucking an apple from a tree. There is plenty of treasure here to rebuild Minas Tirith. I would never send Aragorn into financial debt."

She raises a brow, and her grin seems to grow.

"Though, the same can't be said for Thranduil."

I raise my brows, appearing rather annoyed whilst sliding my dagger back into the sheath. Although, deep within myself, I am undeniably going to miss the wit and humour of this wondrous woman.

"Speaking of which," She chimes up, lifting her sack from the ground and turning to Eomer. "We'd better fly before the streets come alive. What better time to pull a robbery than during a momentary apocalypse?"

A quick smile flicks upon Eretria's features to bid me a final farewell, though my face must be readable, for her expression saddens as our eyes connect.

"Will we see each other again?" I question.

At my words, the young outlaw steps forward, dropping her sack and placing a hand upon my shoulder as a genuine, soft smile spreads across her lips.

"You can bet your ass on it." She utters, her eyes sparkling in auburn as they reflect the room's fiery glow. "Let's just hope it's not in one of Thranduil's prison cells."

I slightly chuckle at her remark. Although, the air glides from my lungs as Eretria brings me into a warm embrace. My heart fires up, and I place my hands upon her back, closing my eyes and resting my mind to peace.

After a long moment, Eretria pulls away and casts her hood over her face. Her signature smirk is all to be seen beneath shadowed features.

"Long live the king." She utters. With the flick of a cloak and the fading of two shadows, the two thieves disappear from sight, leaving myself to stand alone within the firelit room.

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-

"Hannon lee" = "Thank you."

"'Quel re, heru en amin" = "Good day, my lord."

"Elen sila lumenn omentilmo" = "A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting."

"Mennai menya fëar tsettë uo." = "Until our spirit's fly together."