Thalion Faer, Doltha Hún

When I finally stopped moving, the particles of me merging into one, the sensation was akin to running full-force into a stone wall. There was a burning light and a searing pain in the form of sound. The air felt like poison and I felt a strange sensation; I felt my body. It was like a cage around me and I thrashed about, crying out at the attack on my senses. This was why infants cried at birth; it was a horridly confusing experience.

The light stopped burning and I could open my eyes a sliver. I was in a room; the grey stone walls the tone of Minas Tirith. I could see familiar faces, Aragorn and Faramir standing in the doorway. Their eyes were wide as they looked at me, and a third figure pushed his way through them: Elrond. He was at my side in a moment, skin burning mine as he grabbed my hands and began to whisper some chant in elvish.

The more he spoke, the more everything began to settle. My senses weren’t so pained, I wasn’t so lost. Elrond placed a hand on my forehead, his skin now cool, before muttering something I couldn’t hear. The door was closed and I felt more at ease, feeling my heart rate slow and my lungs cease their aching. When I could control my body I realized this was all wrong. I wasn’t supposed to be here.

“I…” My throat was dry. Swallowing a few times, I pushed myself up and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. Aragorn knelt beside me and gently took my hand in his. My eyebrows furrowed as I stared at him. Aragorn. The ranger, the king; my king. “I was dead…I was passing to the realm of Arda. Why am I here?”

“You were meant to find your way back, Vanya.” Lord Elrond scolded gently. “Your spirit was meant to return, but it seems you needed help.”

“What happened?” I breathed, completely dumbfounded about all that had happened. Aragorn shifted slightly before speaking.

“I told you it was not your time.”

My eyes began to water and I lifted my hand to his cheek. The connection brought back a flash of my last moments, of the fatal blow that, for a time, had killed me. My hand went to where the troll’s armor had impaled me, but there were no holes. There were stitches, but I could feel no damage within. Whatever happened to me on my way to Arda had healed me—within, at least.

I swung my feet over the edge of the bed, testing my strength before standing. The longer I was awake, the stronger I felt. It was an exhilarating sensation, and I took a few moments to bask in it before more important matters brought me back to reality. Aragorn was watching me carefully, as if worried that any moment I would break or collapse. With certain steps, I closed the gap between us and wrapped my arms around him. There was no place I rather would have been than at his side. Kissing him briefly, I released him and crossed to Faramir. I wiped the tears that fell and pulled him into my arms. I relished at the fact that I would be able to watch over him until my dying day, that I truly would never need to leave him again. It was over.

“Frodo, where is he?” I asked with sudden desperation. Elrond assured me he was resting, and that he would let the others take me to him; he had business elsewhere. Faramir gave a meaningful look to Aragorn.

“I’ll leave you to it.” He said before following after Elrond.

While we walked to Frodo’s room Aragorn explained what had happened in my absence; how Feredir had come storming through the battalion of orcs as the tower of Barad-Dûr crumbled to the ground, how the horse had knelt at my side and refused to leave until he could bring me back to the city. He told me of the destruction of Mordor, how it was reduced to rubble as if the very earth wished to wipe Mordor off of the surface. In the end it was Gandalf and the eagles who rescued Frodo and Sam from the exploding top of mount doom, carrying them both to safety. We walked slowly through the halls and a few tears slipped down my cheek. He stopped, turning to face me with worry, no doubt thinking I was preparing to faint.

“What is it?” He asked, hands placed on either side of my face. I smiled, shaking my head at his panic.

“Everything is as it should be.” I said quietly, my heart swelling at the notion. “The ring is destroyed, the Dark Lord is gone, the hobbits are safe, and Gondor finally has its king.”

I pushed a stray hair out of his face and brought his lips to mine, resting my forehead against his. His hands twisted into mine, pulling away to look me in the eye. And then, in all seriousness, he spoke.

“It still needs a queen.” His words made me pull away in shock, my eyes going wide as I stared back at him. I began to shake my head, unable to wrap my mind around what he had just said.

“I—I cannot be…” I stuttered, taking a moment to wonder what I had expected to happen between us. I had not expected there to be an us. I was supposed to be dead. But even so, I was not fit to be…queen. “I am not of the proper lineage, my lord. The people, they would—”

“They would be blind to not see that everything a queen should be is within you, Vanya.” He argued gently. My heart was speeding, and with nothing left to say, no desire to be apart, my head slowly began to nod. The action grew more vigorous as I gained confidence in the answer, throwing my arms around his neck. It would be the highest honour, serving the city. It made me wish my father were alive to see the day, but Faramir was close enough to be family. I recalled the look he’d given before leaving me and I wondered if perhaps he had known. I did not bother with the matter, simply slipping my hand into Aragorn’s as he led me down the hall to a doorway.

I could hear the sound of the hobbits laughing as we approached the door, my heart lightening at the notion of them all reunited. Aragorn went in first, and I saw that the entire Fellowship was already there. I entered, the grin on Frodo’s face spreading to mine as I sat on the edge of his bed, gathering him into my arms. Tears rolled down my cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time as I told him how brave he was.

“All of you. Knights of the Shire you will be, mark my words.”

“I saw you.” Frodo said absently as I pulled Samwise into a hug. “In Osgiliath.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, leaning forward. His eyes fell to the floor as he thought back to whatever experience he was referring to.

“There was a moment, while Sam and I were in the company of Faramir in Osgiliath, and the ring was controlling me.” He explained slowly, looking up at me. “But I saw you, as if you were standing beside Sam, and you shook you heard. And I found my way back.”

I thought back to the vision I had seen of Frodo and Sam in the city of Osgiliath, the speech that Sam had made while I was stitching myself up after that battle of Helm’s Deep. I smiled, explaining this to the hobbits.

“All things in their time.” Gandalf mused.

Despite the fact that the room was tiny, despite the fact that many of us would likely appreciate a good feast and a proper sleep, we stayed together. The Fellowship of the Ring, having successfully defeated the union of the Two Towers and paved the way for the Return of the King.

We swapped stories of what had happened in the absence of one another—the hobbits, much more animated in their retelling. It fell on Frodo and Sam to recount the tale of Gollum and his treacherous change of character in the end, as well as the final fight and his fateful end. Frodo’s hand had been wrapped up and there was a void where he’d lost part of his finger.

But it was over. It was done.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Rohirrim had departed back to their realm, save Eowyn and Éomer. They joined with the entire city of Minas Tirith on the topmost level for a celebration that had not been held in centuries: a coronation. It was held in the courtyard outside of the king’s hall, surrounding the white tree of Gondor.

It was said that the tree had not blossomed in the absence of a king, and that when it did once more it would be a symbol of hope for Gondor. Even from my spot at the doors of the hall I could see a flower blossoming on the lowest branch, the sight of it promising the future for Gondor it deserved. Aragorn was kneeling before Gandalf, his robes no longer tattered like the clothing he wore in Fornost. Gimli stood beside the wizard, the king’s crown sitting atop a pillow in his grasp. Gandalf lifted it high for all the crowds to see before slowly lowering it onto Aragorn’s head.

“Now come the days of the king.” Gandalf announced, looking down at Aragorn with a smile. “May they be blessed.”

Aragorn took a breath before rising and turning to face his people. He waited for the applause to die down before speaking. “This day does not belong to one man, but to all. Let us together rebuild this world, that we may share in the days of peace.”

He began to sing the ancient song of his forefathers in sindarin, his voice carrying out over the crowd.

Out of the Great Sea
To Middle-Earth I am come
In this place I will abide
And my heirs
Unto the ending of the world

He then turned to me, holding out his hand for me to take. I smiled, joining him before Gandalf in the white wedding dress my mother had worn ages ago when she wed my father. There was golden embellishment around the neckline and sleeves, matching the golden headdress given to me by Lord Elrond.

Gandalf said the sacred words that would bind us in a union. Aragorn placed the ring that had been his mother’s on my finger. He pulled me into a kiss, holding me tightly against his body. I held him back just as eagerly until we parted and turned to the crowd, bowing.

Our hands intertwined as he led the way down the aisle cleared through the crowds. We bowed left and right at the people, our people. Éomer was there, forsaking his new duties as King of Rohan to pay his respects to the new king. Eowyn stood by Faramir’s side, their hands tied together as they both bowed, smiling.

Lord Elrond still remained with a host of elves, and in unison they bowed to us. I wanted to break away, to go and hold all these familiar faces, but I was hard pressed to follow the expected customs. There were whisperings as we passed, the elvish nickname for me being used as I tried not to laugh. I had no doubt in my mind that Legolas and Faramir has some part to play in the spreading of this. Perhaps it was for the best, if it meant that I would not only be viewed as the status-less girl that I was.

“My friends!” Aragorn said as we came upon the hobbits. They started to lower before Aragorn held up his hands. “You bow to no one.”

Aragorn lowered to his knee, bowing his head low as I followed his example. In moments the entire city was mimicking our action, paying respects to the creatures who, despite their size, were able to save the world from the forces of evil.

The heroes of our time.