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Chapter Notes:
Summary: Elessar's fears and hopes for the future.

Now I am king. Gandalf has crowned me, and I have pledged to serve the people - my people. The thought is still foreign for me, and frightening. While I walk down the stairs, and nod to all the unknown and the few known smiling faces all around me, my mind wanders.

Despite the fact that we have won - finally Sauron's reign is over, and the ring is destroyed! - I feel burdened, and sad. The carefree days are over; no longer can I journey with Legolas, or go on a hunt with the twins. No longer does my life belong only to me, or at least only to me and the group of rangers I was responsible for. I embrace my future because I have to, because I am the only one who can do it. But what will life hold for me? Where will I find joy in the future?

Legolas and Gimli have become fast friends, to the astonishment of all of us – and perhaps most surprised was  Legolas himself, when he admitted to me just after the battle for Minas Tirith how much the dwarf has come to mean to him. I am glad he has found a friend to journey with, and they have already agreed to visit Fangorn forest and the glittering caves together. Legolas is a king's son; he knows maybe even better than I do how my future life will look. Of course I will make every effort to keep the friendship alive, to see him as often as possible, but it will not be like it had been, and the thought frightens me.

I will be alone I fear. Yes, that is my biggest fear by now, even bigger than the fear of failure which has been a hated but faithful companion to me during my whole life. I have sought out solitude often, willingly, during my wandering years as ranger, and before. But the loneliness of command is a different one, and the ones closest to me will not be at my side.

Whether Elrond will ever truly forgive me, I do not know. He was supportive during the last months because he knows of my importance, the importance of the king, to unite Middle Earth. But is it really me he supports, or just a body that carries the blood of the line of Elendil? I do not know, and to be honest I am afraid to ask.

Legolas, and the other companions who have travelled with me during the last months, will go back to their own lives and responsibilities, as they should. I will miss Legolas most of all, but I will not hold him back. I probably will find new friends. I feel drawn to Faramir already, and surely Eomer will be a good ally, and maybe more, given time. It will not be the same, but maybe it will be enough. It has to be enough.

I am not one to wallow in self-pity, so I shy away from the thought of Arwen. My love, my life. It is likely I will never see her again. I know not how she fared. I know not if she sailed, or died. Both mean that she is lost to me, but for her sake, and the sake of Elrond, I hope she sailed. I cannot dwell on those thoughts. It is too painful. I need a distraction.

My searching eyes fall onto Legolas, and I cannot tear my eyes away until we stand before each other. I need the strength of his faith in me now, his love and his support. And he gives it freely, as always, with a glance, with his mere presence. Without him I would never have been able to do what I did. He smiles now, a very soft smile that warms my heart, and he looks so regal that for a moment I am tempted to give him my crown, and all that belongs with it. But no, he already has a crown, one that fits him very well, much better than the heavy thing on my head would. I thank him, I think. My mind is confused, my thoughts tumble over each other wildly; this all is too much for me to bear, but bear it I must. Again I try to focus on my elven friend, hold on to him, but then I realize he is hiding something from me... or is he not? He smiles and gives a small nod towards...

... it cannot be.  I pull the banner away, and still I cannot believe it. Almost on their own my eyes find a smiling Elrond behind her, and now I dare to hope. She is here. She has not sailed. She is not dead. She stands before me - and she is afraid. I am too, scared to death in fact, but I push my own fears away and concentrate on hers. Why would she be afraid? Could she fear I no longer love her? That I had forgotten her, or found someone else? Without giving one thought to how it might look I take her into my arms and kiss her, show her that she is the only one I ever would consider as wife. And when she responds, first hesitantly, but then with a fire matching mine, I feel joy, and my heart soars.

Now I am king. A king with a wife-to-be, and with friends, old and new. My fears are with me as well, but now I can bear them.  I can bear the duties and burdens, because I do not have to bear them alone.

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