The Ranger And The Prince.

What Comes After.

As much as I may have found it boring, for the next few years, I tried my best to learn how exactly to be a Princess. And I don't mean dresses and hair and all those things fairy tales sing about, I'm talking about learning how to govern the Kingdom.

As the next in line for Mirkwood's throne, Legolas will one day be King, though it is likely Thranduil won't step down for thousands of years to come. But as Legolas' wife, when he becomes King, I will be Queen, and that comes with a lot of responsibilities.

Both Legolas and Thranduil were helpful when it came to me trying to understand the politics that came with ruling. I had no idea how taxing the job would be but I eventually got the hang of it.

Thranduil was surprisingly quite helpful in those years. He made me the head of the royal guard because he knew that if all my time was occupied with boring mundane duties then I would probably combust.

Training the soldiers of the royal guard was the highlight of my week, especially when Legolas joined us. Running through the forest of Mirkwood and slaying spiders was definitely a thrill, making me feel like my old ranger self again.

Of course, we didn't stay in Mirkwood indefinitely. After all, it wasn't like Thranduil couldn't cope without us. After ten years, me and Legolas decided to set out again. But this time, I was widely accepted in Mirkwood and I was much more comfortable with the prospect of being a Princess, but that didn't mean I no longer pined for adventure.

Being elves, it was quite easy for me and Legolas to forget that we are immortal and others are not. We decided it would be best to spend as much time travling with Gimli as possible, before he lost the luxury of his youth and was no longer able to go on adventures.

It was quite incredible, the adventures we had, certainly a few worthy of being written alongside the Lord of Rings, in the book Merry and Pippin had given us.

However, after a few decades, it was beginning to dawn on us how much time had truly past.

Faramir and Éowyn were the first to die, old age finally took them. We had all mourned them, even their children, which to my surprise were already grown up with their own families by now. It felt like only yesterday I met the headstrong shield maiden of Rohan, a young woman in the prime of her life, now she was gone.

When we had traveled back to Rohan to mourn their passing, I was surprised to see Merry and Pippin living there, in the court of King Éomer. Though they were still the same chipper Hobbits we had met all those years ago, their faces were lined and their hair was begining to grey.

I had learnt from them that Sam had been granted passage to the undying lands after his wife had died. It was understandable, I had read through his addition to the book and knew that he - if only for a short time - became a ring bearer.

It was even more of a surprise when Merry and Pippin told me that Sam was now the father of thirteen children! Thirteen?! Suffice to say, I didn't know wheather to be happy or sorry for poor Rosie.

The Hobbits also told us they wished to visit Minas Tirith and stay there for good with Aragorn. I felt rather proud of the Hobbits, when we had first met, they were frightened little halflings who only longed for home. Now they weren't afraid to explore on their one, leaving the Shore to travel on their own, without a fellowship to protect them.

It wasn't long before even Aragorn, a man blessed with long life, showed signs of age. His dark hair was now streaked with silver.

His son however was a strapping young man, his elven genes making him age differently to that of those around him.

I pitied him in all honesty, I had spent most of my life without long lasting friends and now I remember why. It was sad to see them go.

Another few decades and even Gimli seemed worse for wear, his ginger hair now turning pearly white.

When Aragorn died, we were all distraught, as was all of Middle-Earth. Having reigned over Gondor for one hundred and twenty years, his people mourned him for weeks.

Me, Legolas and Gimli arrived for the funeral, all solemn and our heads bowed. Arwen was understandably inconsolable but in truth, I found her vigilance in the circumstances quite admirable. She cried, of course she did, but she kept herself strong for those around her, especially her son.

Me and Legolas knew that our friends were now dropping like flies and as much as we wanted to deny it, it seemed that Gimli would be next. A grim thought indeed but we could no longer prolong the inevitable.

It took us nearly two and a half months to travel back to Mirkwood, after all, Gimli wasn't as young as he used to be so we slowed our pace.

Thranduil welcomed us back eagerly, having barely seen us for the better half of a century.

Gimli had been like a brother to me and Legolas, we could hardly just sit and wait for him to leave us.

It was then, I thought of the undying lands.

I knew that only Elves and ring bearers could sail to Valinor, but damn whoever made that a law.

***

Other than that, it was amazing to be back in Mirkwood again after so many years. And after such a long time on the road, it was a nice change to feel settled again.

Don't get me wrong, this definitely wouldn't be the last time we would likely go and explore the world, but for now, I was happy to have a place to call home. It was easier to adjust to a domestic life than before but that was party due to the fact I was more comfortable with my royal position now than I was a century prior.

Gimli was also content with his best room we had provided him with. I knew that he was glad to be off the road as well.

Though some of the elves were still vexed by the dwarf in their midst, they soon came to their senses and it had nothing to do with the fact I had threatened them with my axe if they laid a hand on my brother.

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A very short chapter which is just a long winded way of saying 'le time skip' so I could fill in the blanks.