𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ~ {𝐋.𝐆}

28: The White Tree

   "She was strong in life, and now she will return to the halls of her mothers that came before. For death is not the end, just another path we all must take. The grey rain curtain rolls back and all turns to silver glass...And then you see it. White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise." Gandalf finished, laying a hand on the empty grave, for no body could be extracted from the rubble of the Mountain.

   The air fell silent, no bird chirped that morning for the loss the Fellowship was felt by both man and beast. The world was flourishing with celebration outside the borders of Rivendale, the evil that was had a hold on the land was vanquished and the men of the world were free, yet the land of Elves was deadly silent. The burial of the men that fell at the battle of the Black Gates had continued since sunrise, and only now they had reached the last  grave at sun down. Your grave. 

   The four Hobbits laid white flowers on your grave before saying their last goodbyes. Bilbo laid down a peice of parchment with his newest song dedicated to you on the grassy mound before taking a staggered step back. Gimli rested the head of his favourite axe next to Aragorns sword, and lastly Legolas stepped forward. His face was pale and drawn with exhaustion, but a twinkle in his eyes showed his pride. Pride in you. 

   "The last time we were here, you told me your favorite tree was a Cherry Tree. I had them fill the court of Gondor with them in your name,  Meleth nîn." Legolas whispered as a stray tear slipped from his eye. By the sword and axe, he gave you his bow. The elf stood up and took a step back beside Aragorn, trying to keep his composure. 

   "And here lays Y/N, daughter of Galadriel, Destroyer Of Evil and-" Elrond stopped when a bustle of people started shouting and pointing some way off down a great dirt path that wound on just below the burial site. They all turned their heads toward the path that edged along the cliff that was shaven in half by a monstrous waterfall, and on it two figures could be seen slowly ebbing their way closer. The tallest figure seemed to be waving their arms at the smaller figure in front that leaped along the path at great speed, which seemed to annoy the taller silhouette.

   "Gandalf, who are they?" Pippin asked, peering into the distance but the sinking sun cast it's last rays right into the eyes of the on lookers, blinding them.

   "I do not know, not many venture that path to come here." Gandalf said, but the tone of his voice caused Legolas turn to look at the wizard in confusion. Was that humor? The elf thought, though he cared not of the approaching figures. This was your funeral and it was getting interrupted over a few late comers.

   The crowd waited in silence for a few minutes, to the annoyance of Aragorn and Legolas whom felt like the whole fiasco was a major inconvenience to your burial.

   "Bless my hairy feet, it cannot be that wretched thing!" Bilbo cried. Within a few moments gurgles and coughs sounded through the land, and around the corner bounded a small, pale creature that leaped like an over grown frog.

  "Over here it goes! Come on! It must hurry!" The creature stopped and peaked it's bald head around the corner, calling for the other figure. A gasp went through the crowd, and Frodo grabbed at Sam's hand. Had he not fallen into that pit in Shelobs layer? Thought Frodo. 

   "Gollum?" Sam said, abashed and dismayed.

   Before any one could react to the putrid creature, another voice called back.

   "Don't be getting too far ahead! You will give the poor Hobbits heart failure if they see-" The voice cut off when the figure rounded the corner and saw the crowd staring right back. 

   "Y/N?"  

   You stopped in your tracks. The faces of your friends were wrought in confusion and joy as they gasped at your sudden appearance.