Chapter XLIV: Return of an Elf
Many weeks were spent in merrymaking and joy after the coronation of King Elessar, and the visitors from Rohan, L�rien, Rivendell, and the Shire stayed for all of it. Aldamir came to know some inhabitants of Minas Tirith quite well, not to say spending a great deal of time with old friends from Mirkwood and Rivendell. On some mornings, when the sun was just rising in the East and spreading a gold mist over the land, the Elves would ride down to the river and follow it eastwards, talking, laughing, and sometimes just being silent. War was a thought now put away. No longer did the shadow of Mordor hang over their world.

A few times, those who wished to would leave the White City for a few days and ride down to the Sea itself, or perhaps take a ship down the River to Pelargir, now being rebuilt after the rule of the Corsairs. Some would stay there for a while, others would sail further to the very edge of the Sea, where Middle-earth ended and melted into the endless waters. At this place, at the river�s mouth, there was a small city with a great many grey stone towers, looking out to sea.

During one of these visits, Aldamir was standing on one tower�s circular balcony and watching the moonlight play on the waves. It was close to midnight, and not being tired at all, he had left the warm, fire-lit sleeping quarters below for the balcony. Not moving, he stood silent with his hands clasped behind his back. His gaze roamed among the stars in sky, and then their reflection in the lapping waters below him.

When quiet footsteps approached him from behind, he turned slightly. Uruviel was standing there, clad in her grey cloak. Aldamir motioned to her. �Welcome, melda,� he said softly. �The stars are dancing tonight.�

Uruviel came to the balcony�s railing and gazed down into the water beneath her. She shivered slightly and drew her cloak closer about herself.

Aldamir frowned. �Are you cold?� he asked, and drew her close. �Here, let me warm you.�

�Only a little,� she answered, smiling and capturing his hand in her own. �I�ve been walking on the beach. The stars are beautiful tonight.�

�They are indeed,� he said. �I haven�t seen them this clear for a long time.�

For a while both Elves were silent, watching the stars, and then Uruviel sighed. �I�m going to miss them,� she said softly.

�Miss them?�

�The stars,� she said. �Somehow, I don�t think they�ll be the same in Valinor.�

�Why not?� asked Aldamir, but he understood.

�Valinor lies on the other side of the sea,� she answered. �Maybe we�ll see the same stars, but still, it will be different.�

�Aye, it will,� agreed Aldamir quietly, tightening his arm around her shoulders. �It will be different.�

�But how different?� she wondered. �I don�t want to leave Middle-earth. I was born here and have dwelt here for all the years of my life. I wish I could stay here.�

�As do I,� responded Aldamir. �It won�t be easy to leave, and yet we can�t stay.�

�I know.� She sighed. �For a long time, somehow, I�ve known that the day would come, but I always pushed the thought away. I wanted not to think about it, to pretend that it wasn�t going to happen. But you can�t do that forever.�

Aldamir didn�t answer right away; instead, he kissed the top of her head and held her close. �But even if the stars change and the world we know is gone, we will still have each other,� he said at last.

Her only answer was a gentle kiss.




As long and wonderful as the days spent in Minas Tirith were, they could not last forever. The hobbits began to miss their homeland of the Shire, and much as they were loathe to leave, they perceived that it was time. For the Elves, too, it was time to depart.

And so, one morning in the late summer, a great company gathered to depart from Minas Tirith: the Elves, the people of Rohan who were returning to their country, and the hobbits. Elessar would ride with them for a while, at least as far as Rohan for the funeral of Th�oden King.

So they departed from the White City among many farewells and leave-takings. Both sides were sad, yet they remembered the long days of happiness they had had in Gondor and were grateful. As they rode away in the sunlight, the Minas Tirith stood behind them, tall and proud, peaking in the tower of Ecthelion, like a sentinel in the mountains.

Aldamir, turning back one last time, remembered a few words he had overheard by chance one night in L�rien while walking.
�Have you ever seen it, Aragorn?... The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, its banners caught high in the morning breeze...�

And Aldamir, remembering the proud man with a stern glance and a long sword, bowed his head slightly in honor. �Never did a warrior more deserve to see his home in glory,� he said softly, under his breath, �as did Boromir of Gondor.� But as he turned away and rode onwards, he knew in his heart, that somehow, Boromir
did know that his home was safe, and once again rose from the mountainside in unshadowed glory.

Along with the others, the Elves paused in Rohan for the funeral of king Th�oden. He was buried just outside Edoras, laid to rest in a mound of green covered with small white blossoms. As all present bowed their heads in remembrance, Merry stepped forward quietly and fell to his knees near the king�s grave. Aldamir saw his lips moving, but his words were inaudible. Then he covered his face in his hands and wept. And yet, when he rose again, there was calm and love on his face, shining through his tears.

Riding onwards and northwards, the company spent a night at Isengard. Despite the fact that the evil had been banished and the filth washed away, there was something unnatural about the black tower of Saruman looming over them that night. Perhaps it was a shred of what had been, some bit of evil that still lurked. Some had uneasy dreams and others could not sleep. But Aldamir spent the night walking through Isengard, speaking with the Ents and exploring the fallen wizard�s domain.

After spending the next night at Fangorn, they rode north over the plains for several days, until at last Aldamir laid eyes on a sight he had longed for since leaving it so many months ago. Glowing in the setting sun�s rays, Lothl�rien, the Golden Wood, lay once again before him. As he rode toward it he forgot all else, caught in the wonder of that Wood he called home. This was what he had fought for when he had left with Haldir and the Galadhrim; now it welcomed him home, the mallorns� leafy boughs seeming to stretch lovingly out toward him.

And so it was, that after six long months of battle, hardship, grief, bloodshed and victory, that Aldamir at last returned to Lothl�rien, riding toward it through the last heavy, golden rays of the setting sun...
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