Aldamir spent the days close to his tent, only leaving the area a few times to go for a solitary walk through Ithilien in the morning or the evening. He would walk through the trees until all sight and sound of the encampment had faded away, and then go onwards, following no path but letting his footsteps wander at will. He had been awed by the quiet, golden-green beauty contained in the wood, but his heart yearned for L�rien and the day when he once again could set eyes upon the mallorns, and walk beneath their boughs.
Often spending hours in the woods, he would walk, think, rest. His wounds were healing, though slowly. He had lived through more than a few hard battles, and they had taken their toll on him at last through exhaustion. Elf as he was, the combined stress of Helm�s Deep, the Pelennor, and the battle of the Morannon had worn him out. It wasn�t just the battles, either. Losing so many of his kindred had taken something from him as well. He knew it would be long before his strength was regained fully.
But it made no difference to him. The War of the Ring had come to an end.
Another thought often on his mind was the time he had left to spend in Middle-earth. Even as Galadriel herself had said, the power of the Three Rings would not last forever and it was only a matter of time before the Elven folk left this world. Not wanting to think about it, Aldamir pushed the thought away, and let himself rest.
One evening, returning to the encampment, he met the same woman he�d found in Lindir�s tent the morning he had awoken. She smiled brightly when she noticed him. �Your friend�s awake, and a wonder �tis,� she said, nodding back toward Lindir�s tent. �One o� the first things he asked was if you were alive. Dear me, he came much closer to death than you, and I do say myself that if �tweren�t for the King hi�self...�
Aldamir did not hear more, for he was hurrying toward Lindir�s tent. Throwing the door-flap aside, he stepped in.
Lindir, lying flat in the bed, turned at his entry, and his pale, slightly drawn face brightened visibly. �Aldamir!�
Aldamir grinned in relief and joy. �Lindir...wonderful to see you awake! You�ve been sleeping for over a week, did you know that? You gave all the healers a terrible time. I was rather anxious myself.�
Lindir raised an eyebrow. �And then as soon as I wake up, no one can tell me anything about where you are except that �he went walking�?�
Aldamir chuckled and sat down next to Lindir�s bed and squeezed Lindir�s shoulder affectionately and gently. �Mellon nin...�
In spite of Lindir�s condition, the two lost track of time and talked together into the night, until the healer woman shook her head, clucked her tongue and sternly sent Aldamir to his own tent. �There�ll be plenty of time for talkin� in the days to come, there will,� she admonished, �but only if ye don�t kill yerself with lack o� rest.�
Aldamir and Lindir said nothing, but grinned at each other.
After another week, the King Elessar returned to Minas Tirith, and his army went with him. He was received with great celebration and honor; indeed, it seemed as if the entire city had turned out to bring him in as their king. Flowers were cast before him as he entered the city, and banners of all colors were hung out from windows. All of the White City was filled with rejoicing and delight, for the terrible Shadow had fled at last, and only the sunlight now shone on the city.
Lindir and Aldamir rode side by side into the city, following Aragorn. Lindir had gotten the better of his wound, though like Aldamir, he too had been worn out by the war and would only heal fully over time.
The day after their return to Minas Tirith, Aldamir was standing on the balcony outside the room he had been given on the third level of Minas Tirith. A soft wind was blowing through his hair and through the city beneath him. The plain of the Pelennor lay spread out before him, mostly empty of movement. He was quite alone, for Lindir had gone riding in the woods, wanting, like himself, a bit of solitude.
He was gazing east toward the mountains of Mordor, now lying under a clear sky instead of heavy dark clouds, when a sudden horn-call caught his attention. Jerking around, he stared in the setting sun, straining for the source of that horn-call. It was not a horn of men...
Then he saw it. An Elven banner of Rivendell, floating on the evening wind, borne by a mounted Elf. Behind him rode a great company of Elves, all mounted, their cloaks and hair streaming out behind them as they rode down towards the city. The light of stars seemed to shine about them, a silvery glow, even in the gold light of the sunset.
Aldamir�s heart skipped a beat. That was a banner of Rivendell, but...
He did not stop to look again. Turning and snatching up his cloak, he made his way swiftly out of the house and through the streets to the stables. F�aran stood there in a stall, and when Aldamir entered, he whickered restlessly. Without waiting for a stable hand, Aldamir saddled and bridled the horse himself and mounted, riding out of the stable like a wind through the plain-grass.
Guiding F�aran unerringly through the circling white-stoned streets, ever downwards to the great Gate itself, Aldamir rode through it and out onto the plain. Reining in his mount briefly, he looked again to the West. The company of Elves were there, closer now, carrying several banners. And yes, there were banners of the Golden Wood among them...
Urging F�aran forward, Aldamir coaxed him into a fast canter and rode swiftly toward them. In a few minutes he had reached them, and his face lit with happiness as he saw so many known, beloved faces, and heard their voices calling and greeting him with joy. The Lady Galadriel herself was there, with a great many Elves from L�rien, as well as Lord Elrond of Rivendell and many of his house. Aldamir greeted them all joyfully, but he was searching for one certain face...
Suddenly Lindir slipped through the company and rode up to him, a smile on his face. �She is in the back of the column,� he said simply.
And in the back of the company Aldamir found her, his own dearly beloved Uruviel, riding a light grey horse, clad in blue, her golden hair dancing in the breeze and her eyes searching for him. She slid off her horse at the same moment he sprang to the ground, and a moment later they were in each other�s arms.
Lindir glanced back, and then turned to his kindred, smiling. �Come, mellyn,� he said. �Let us leave them to themselves. They deserve it, after all these days...�
Turning his horse suddenly, he rode with the Elves towards the White City, gleaming in the sunset.