Summary: From the dead to the living, a gift...
The Khan's men wouldn't stay, even for the bodies. "They're traitors," their captain said. "Do as you will with your own."
So the day rang with shovels, and as Celbaran and his fellows turned the last little earth, evening, spreading like a bruise, brought visitation.
"Cel," Gilion murmured, nodding toward the barrow door – toward the woman, with her children and husband.
Dusty with death, they descended, and clinging wide-eyed to each other, passed among the silent gravemen. Celbaran held his breath. But none opposed them: they forded the river, and disappeared.
For love and honor. Celbaran sat down and wept.
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.