The Return of the King

Arilen has never seen so many people: the streets of Gondor must be empty. She tries not to gawk like a country girl and still look everywhere at once. The gems in the winged crown glitter like sunlight on the sea. The scent of grass crushed beneath the crowd's feet is sharp in her nose.

She links arms with her mother to stay together in the press of bodies. Soon, she suspects, they will return to bickering, but now they are too grateful to have each other. Her brother was one of the soldiers who did not return from the Pelennor. Arilen needs to see the King he died for.

King Elessar is not alone; all of his companions stand with him. The Ringbearer and the periannath princes look like children in their rich dress, but no-one could take the dwarf for a youth despite his size. She thinks the tall one beside him clad in green is a man, until the bright blade of his elven glance falls across her. She stares, and forgets to close her mouth. He smiles -- at her! -- and turns back to the coronation.

Forty years later, her grandchildren still hear that tale.

[a double birthday drabble for vampfan30 & her daughter to share]