The flicker of a smile touches her lips as she rests one hand below her waist. Her mortal choice is truly irrevocable now. Nothing has ever felt so vastly, terrifyingly inevitable.
Aragorn crosses the worn paving stones, nearly running to where she sits. By the look in his eyes she knows that he already guesses the tidings she had intended to tell him. He kisses her brow, her lips, and smiling, he plucks a cluster of flowers from the bough above them and sets it behind her ear. "My white tree. Now we are truly renewed."
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.