The moon has risen over Minas Tirith. Looking out from the tower of Ecthelion, I can see the fertile lands of Gondor stretch out for many leagues. The view satisfies an unspoken longing from deep within my heart, a longing for peace.
Gazing down, I can see men repairing the fragmented walls of the White City. Their actions are the only things that hint that there was ever any trouble in this city—a sharp contradiction of reality.
For the first time in known history, the gates of Minas Tirith were breached during the War of the Ring. Under my rule, I shall make sure that such a thing does not occur. I want the whole of Gondor and Arnor to feel the peace that I feel now.
As I turn my head, the moon almost reflects off of the white stone surrounding me. It is all so beautiful.
With one last look at the beauty of Minas Tirith, I return to my chambers.