5. Grave — Vilwarin
The sun had not yet fully risen when a lone figure came riding over the destroyed fields of the Pelennor. He dismounted a little ways from the City and approached one of the fresh graves, leaving his stallion to find patches of grass that had not been destroyed by men, horses, orcs and whatever else the dark lord had unleashed. Not heeding the dirty ground, the men seated himself.
"Now it has come to it, my friend," he said, "we are marching to our last battle. You know that this is the first time in my life that I think I will not come back? I wonder how you coped with the feeling of certain death awaiting you at the end of the path."
The grave did not give an answer. Aragorn stared towards the White City where the people were beginning to stir. Then his eyes fell back on the small mound.
"You know that I made your brother my standard-bearer. Haldor is a good man, but he will never be a substitute for you, no one ever will."
He looked at his worn garments. Soon he would have to replace them with those of a captain. A captain who leads his army to their death. He sighed and stood up.
"Farewell, Halbarad. We may see each other again soon."
A biting wind blew into his face and he had to close his eyes. Abruptly he turned around and went to his horse, not looking back even once.
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.