In the evening, a big party took place. All the city inhabitants were invited, without distinction of social class, different rank, ages and genders. The people of Gondor was gathering around his sovereigns, and around the guests who had attended the coronation of the afternoon.
In the great room of the throne of Minas Tirith, Aragorn and Arwen, dressed with their coronation robes, were facing the people, chins high and looks proud. They were holding each other's hand majestically, their silver crowns on their head. King Elessar had added a new throne for his queen, as large and beautiful as his own.
Hundreds of candles had been hung at the glittering ceiling, lighting up the immense hall where, just a few weeks earlier, Gandalf, Aragorn, Tauriel, Legolas, Gimli and Eomer were discussing the final confrontation. The king had added large black and silver standards bearing the effigy of Gondor, as well as the deep emerald-green standards of Rohan. Long, dark wooden tables were set up along the entire length, covered with dishes the people had not seen in a long time. Meat, fish, vegetables and fruits, brought by the elves of Rivendell.
The lord of this city, Lord Elrond, was at the forefront of the gathering in front of the rulers of Gondor. He was gazing lovingly at his daughter, his eyes moist. To his right were standing Legolas, then Tauriel, and Gimli. The dwarf had abandoned too his usual battle dress for a more refined garment, although getting him to do so had not been easy. He was now wearing a black tunic embroidered with silver, pants of the same color, and dark boots. The redheaded elf suspected that Faramir had given him one of his childhood tunics, which had been adjusted for the occasion. But she had not dared ask him: the dwarf's face when he had entered the throne room had cut her off. Legolas had not stopped smiling for long minutes...
''My dear friends," declared Aaragorn, standing on the dais of the two thrones. '' On this day, let us honor those who fought for our freedom, for the freedom of this land. Let us honor their names, honor their blood, honor their death. Together, we will rebuild what they died for. Hail to the soldiers who died for Middle-earth!
'' Hail to the soldiers who died for Middle-earth ! ''repeated the crowd respectfully.
After this moment of memories, pain and sorrow for some, at the mention of their departed loved ones, the hall filled with a joyous atmosphere, led by Pippin and Merry, who sang again as they did at Edoras, spreading their natural cheerfulness throughout the crowd. The people of Minas Tirith began to dance, in a long line, moving to the rhythm of the two hobbits' songs and music. The crowd broke into applause, also following the sound of the footsteps, supporting the voices of the little hobbits.
Tauriel smiled as she saw the two cousins dancing on a table, mugs of ale in hand. Sam was also at their side, more discreet, but Frodo, for his part, seemed totally elsewhere. Sitting on a chair a little further back, near Gandalf, the dark-haired hobbit's eyes were wide. The wizard was talking to him, but the distance and the hubbub of the hall prevented the elf from hearing his words.
The line of dancers passed near her and Legolas, heckling back and forth in good mood. The blond elf turned to her and gave her an enigmatic look. She raised an eyebrow.
"What is it?" she asked, suspiciously.
"You will see," he replied, amused.
His lips stretched into a smile, and without adding anything more, he slipped his hand into hers, taking her with him into the crowd. They reached the end of the line and settled there, to the rhythm of the cousins' songs. She burst out laughing, and her good humor infected Legolas, who laughed in turn. Passing Eomer, who was chatting with his sister and Faramir, Tauriel seized the wrist of Theoden's nephew. Wide-eyed, he followed, taking Eowyn with him. She grabbed in turn the Gondorian, who seemed to be drawing ever closer to her, and the three joined the dance, to the cheers of those around them.
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The Odyssey of the daughter of the forest
FanfictionIn the dark forest of Mirkwood, shadows are growing, again and again. The leaves are becoming black, as the roots, and as the trees. Birds are not singing anymore. Flowers have disappeared. Even the sun has trouble to light the ground of the forest...