A/N: The next several chapters will continue the domestic, calm events of the past few. But don't worry. It'll dive into the next quest pretty soon.

Miril dressed in her now clean tunic and a new black cloak the next morning early before dawn. When she had finished dressing, the sun was just peeking through the window panes. As she placed her circlet on her head, Miril wondered not for the first time what Elrond would think of her betrothal to his son. Considering Elrohir proposed with the brooch without consenting his father, things could go wrong. Especially because of who and what she was.

With a sigh, she rose from where she had sat by the window and strapped Galmegil onto her belt. The black and silver scabbard complemented her grey and black outfit, giving her a look of a true warrior. She opened the door to the stairwell and took it down to the throne room. There she met up with the Twins.

"Éomer is with his people, preparing them for departure," Elladan told her.

"Here," Elrohir handed her a roll with butter, "Eat quickly. We leave soon."

Miril nodded and ate the bread as they walked through the White Tower and out into the lower streets. The town was still mostly aslee though the sun was rising swiftly.

Miril reckoned the trip to Édoras would take about four days. Not too long at all. The host would move swiftly to arrive when the elves did. As they reached the stables where their three horses were housed, Miril finished up her breakfast and tacked up Bruidal. At last she mounted up on her and followed the twin Sons of Elrond out into the road down to the gates. There they met Éomer atop his horse Firefoot. He had placed his men in formation and was ready to depart.

"Are you ready, my friends?" King Éomer asked them as they rode to the front of the host.

"Let us be off," Elladan nodded.

Éomer had his standard bearer blow the horn to signal departure. As one the group began to move. They eventually picked up speed and moved at a reasonable pace across the Pelennor Fields back the way the Rohirrim had originally come to Gondor.

Days passed and the host rode on. They stopped each night and set up camp, but nothing of note happened on the trip to Édoras. It was quiet most of the time. Míril was too busy thinking about the words she and Aragorn had exchanged regarding her fate and the Silmaril. She felt it growing closer.

On the fifth day of travel, Édoras was at last in view. A host of elves was camped outside the city, awaiting the permission of Rohan's King to enter. As the Rohirrim cantered up to the elven host, Míril, Éomer, and the twins dismounted. Three elven leaders stood there, shining in the daylight.

"This is King Éomer of Rohan," Elladan smiled, introducing them. "Éomer, here is Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, Arwen, daughter of Elrond, Galadriel, Lady of Lothlorien, and Celeborn, Lord of Lothlorien."

Éomer looked upon them in wonder and bowed low. "My Lords and Ladies, welcome to Rohan. It is my pleasure to house you here for awhile."

Galadriel smiled as the four elves bowed in return. "Thank you, King Éomer of Rohan. Long have we been neighbors, but never met. It is a pity."

"Please, come inside Édoras," Éomer nodded. "There are rooms in Meduseld more fit for such leaders than tents out on our fields."

Elrond nodded. "Thank you, I at least accept your offer."

"I as well," Celeborn agreed, and Galadriel and Arwen followed suit.

As such, the three elven royals walked with Éomer and the half-elves up to the Golden Hall through the city. Míril remained silent, unsure of how to approach the Lord Elrond. Galadriel felt her hesitation and dropped back to walk with her.

"There is something I must tell you, Míril," Galadriel said softly. "I have spoken to my husband and to Elrond already and they have agreed."

"What might that be, my lady?" Miril asked in confusion.

Galadriel smiled. "Fëanor relinquished the crown long ago through his son Maedhros to the line of Fingolfin. Upon Gil-galad's death in the Last Alliance, the place of honor as High King of the Elves has been vacant. I, as the eldest Noldor in Middle Earth, took it upon myself to act as leader alongside my son-in-law and husband."

Miril nodded. She knew this much so far.

With a sigh, the Noldorin lady continued, "However soon, very soon, Celeborn and I are leaving Lothlorien for Rivendell, and from there, Elrond and I plan to leave for the Undying Lands. That will leave only one Noldor worthy of the title here in Middle Earth. For Maglor, if he is alive, does not deserve that title after the atrocities he performed."

Miril was stunned silent. Was Galadriel saying what she thought she was saying?

"You must take up the mantle of High Queen of the Noldor here in Middle Earth. No power comes with the title anymore, but it is symbolic of Good triumphing over Evil." Galadriel chuckled softly at the look of shock on Miril's face.

"But I am not elven?" Miril protested. "I am Half-elven."

"True," Galadriel agreed, "But you have within you the blood of Finwë, High King. After his death at the hands of Morgoth, the High Kings have always strived to campaign against the evils in Middle Earth. You have proven yourself worthy in my eyes to carry on that pursuit once I leave."

Miril was silent as they reached the entrance into Meduseld. Éomer showed them to the royal guest rooms where they would stay for the next week or so as Éomer organized his people and formally received the crown.

Galadriel smiled at her softly. "You are worthy, daughter of the Spirit of Fire. You must right the wrongs of your forefathers. Redeem the name of Fëanor Curufinwë."

Míril nodded. "I will do my best, my lady."

"Come to me tonight before you sleep. We have something for you," Galadriel told her as the half-elf went to depart.

Miril nodded and went to her room to rest and process all that had been told to her. Meanwhile, Elrohir was pacing before his father's room. Elladan watched him humorously.

"Brothers," Arwren smiled as she walked quickly to them. "I feared I would not see you again!"

Elrohir stopped his pacing and smiled. He went to his sister and embraced her. Elladan did as well.

"Why do you pace?" Arwen asked Elrohir in confusion.

Elladan laughed. "He is about to ask our father for permission to wed Míril."

Arwen smiled wide. "Good! It is about time."

Finally the door opened and Elrond looked in confusion at his three children standing there.

"I feel like I am about to regret opening the door," he muttered loudly. "Come in."

Elrohir, Elladan, and Arwen all walked inside the room and the latter two sat down. Elrohir wrung his hands and finally spoke up after a moment of silence.

"I have come to request your blessing for me to marry Míril Lôminzil of the North," he asked very formally.

Elrond sighed and nodded. "I knew this day was coming. Your grandmother told me of your betrothal to her."

Elrohir rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I was going to tell you."

Elrond shook his head with a small smile. "Do not lie, my son. You hid it from me."

Elladan laughed but everyone else stared at him in irritation. He shut his mouth quickly.

"Elrohir, my son. You have always been stubborn, driven by emotion, loyal to your friends, rash to act-"

"I get the point," Elrohir muttered.

Elrond shook his head. "I should've known you would choose a woman who also displays all those characteristics. However, Míril has proven herself worthy in my eyes. And the eyes of your grandparents. Therefore I grant you my blessing on your bethrothal to Míril, descendent of Fëanor."

Elrohir smiled and hugged his father. Elrond nodded back as they embraced. He knew at that moment he was potentially loosing his son. Depending on the fate Miril chose, Elrohir would follow, too. And the odds that Míril was ever able to sail to Valinor was miniscule to nonexistent.

"We shall be wed in Gondor," Elrohir grinned. "I must tell her now!"

The twin ran out of the room and up the steps to where Míril's room was. He knocked on the door and she opened it, confused as to why Elrohir was all but bouncing up and down. She laughed as she let him in. He kissed her right there and closed the door.

"What is it you need?" She asked him, still chuckling as they broke apart.

"Míril! My father has given his permission for our marriage!"

Miril dropped the cup she'd been holding, completely shocked. After a moment the look of shock turned into pure bliss and joy. She kissed Elrohir and he swung her around.

"You mean it?" She asked him in surprise and happiness. "He said yes?"

"Indeed."