Okay… here it is! The chapter we've all been waiting for… Anyways, I think I'll end this story here, though I might continue Aragorn's thoughts about his marriage and other events either in this story or in another one. Let me know if I should do that, or maybe write a story from Arwen's perspective, whatever really…

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings (my precioussss), and some of the lines are out of the book (faithful Tolkein-shippers will know which ones, to everyone else, I suggest: READ THE BOOKS. The first one is a little drab, but it gets better from there.)

And, without much ado, I present…..

Coronation Surprise: Chapter 5

Gandalf himself comes to my door. His robes shine, and the power of one who knows much is about him. He looks at me with clear shining eyes. I do not know what he sees.

"Come," he pronounces, "It is time."

It is.

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The sun shines bright. I am standing at the gate of Minas Tirith; it has been repaired and wrought in Mithril by the dwarves of the mountains, Gimli Gloin's son's kin. The gate is to my back, and the sun shines off it, I can feel it warming my back.

The street is lined with people, my people; they hold many flowers in their hands, and more flowers yet crown the many stone houses. Children laugh, and it gives me hope: Minas Tirith will not fail again.

Trumpets sound from within, and all becomes quiet. There, walking slowly into the glowing sunlight, stands Faramir, Son of Denethor. He comes and kneels before me; it is strange, for he is my friend and I would not stand upon such ceremony. I look around and see the Lady Eowyn standing behind the Lord Faramir, beside her brother Eomer-King. She smiles, and it is a happy sight. 

Faramir speaks, and says, "The last Steward of Gondor begs leave to surrender his office."

I smile, and reply,"That office is not ended, and it shall be thine and thine heirs' as long as my line shall last." Perhaps it shall outlast my line and the House of Telecontar.

Then Faramir turns and speaks in a clear and powerful voice that surprises me; I have never heard him save soft-spoken. "Men of Gondor!" he says, "Hear now the Stewards of this Realm! Behold! One has come to claim the kingship again at last. Here is Aragorn son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dúnedain of Arnor, Captain of the Host of the West, bearer of the Star of the North, wielder of the Sword Reforged, victorious in battle, whose hands bring healing, the Elfstone, Elessar of the line of Valandil, Isildur's son, Elendil's son of Númenor. Shall he be king and enter into the City and dwell there?"

And I hear men, women, and children shout in yea in many voices. And amidst all the noise, I cannot help but wonder how Faramir managed to learn all my names.

The Steward and his Lady, and the King of Rohan step aside, and I walk slowly. It is a long way, but I walk every step of the seven levels of Minas Tirith. And on every level are people, people who are happy, and I am happy with them.

At last I reach the highest level, where the tower of Ecthelion stands. On the top of the steps of the citadel stands Gandalf the White, Mithrandir as the people here call him, and before him, resting on a black pillow, lies the Winged Crown of Gondor. The path here is lines with all those people that I know best: the Hobbits, the Dúnedain from the north, and Faramir and Eowyn and Eomer stand here too. I see the steps before me, and I begin to climb.

Though they are but short, the time seems very long to me. It feels like an embodiment of all my struggles and my self doubts, but as I reach the top the struggle becomes easier. At last, I kneel before Gandalf. He smiles at me kindly, and repeats the lines I have heard to often from fairer lips:

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost,

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

A fire from the ashes shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring,

Remade shall be the Sword that was Broken,

The Crownless again shall be King.   

And then, he says, in a ringing voice, "Now come the days of the King, and may they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!"

I looked up at him, and my eyes met him. And then he set the crown upon my head.

It seems that the sprits of all those who bore that crown before me rush through me. I feel an enormous power rush through me, and I realize with some sadness that I cannot turn back now; the life of a ranger has forever slipped from my grasp. I am bound to my people until the end of time.

I stand, and the people behold their King for the first time. They are silent, and in the silence, a wind seems to come and brush past me. It brings with it words, and the words come forth in song from my mouth, though it is not I who produce them:

"Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan at Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta."

Out of the Great Sea to Middle Earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.

I walk down the steps that are now so easy to descend, and the people cheer. The lady Eowyn laughs, and Gandalf looks on happily. Merry and Pippin look as though their grins might swallow their faces, and even Frodo smiles.

Suddenly, flowers begin to fall – white flowers, elanor, and green leaves, and I hear the choirs of Elves. They walk slowly up the path, the sky behind them. One bears a great Standard, on it flowers a White Tree, and Seven Stars are about it, and a High Crown. In front strides Legolas, clad in silver and green.

"Hannon le, Legolas," I say. Thank you. There is much that has been given.

But Legolas does not answer. Instead, he smiles, and looks to the side. There stands Elrond, and next to him, the maid that bears the great Standard.

She steps aside, her head shyly bowed. It is covered in fine mithril, a crown of silver against dark brown hair, and beneath it the most lovely face on this Middle Earth.

It is Arwen.

Time stops, and there are none in my world but the lady that stands before me. I dare not touch her for fear that it is a dream, but I have to. My hand touches her cheek, and her skin is so soft and so real. She looks up at me, and her eyes meet mine.

A joy so strong and a pain so great overcomes me that I fear it might tear my heart. It seems that every emotion I have felt – sorrow, doubt, love, fear and hope – wells up and my heart overflows. And then, my lips meet hers, and the kiss awakens all that I have though dead. I spin her around in a circle, and she laughs and weeps.

My joy like a sword, I pass in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.

And Arwen is there.

There. That's that… so… here at the end of all things…  I love the reunion part, and I still want to continue on from this moment. Should I?

As always, reviews are appreciated!