Aragorn
The stench of death was strong, as tangible as soil and water. He was used to the smell so much so that he didn't bother to mask it through a cloth. His bones were tired, but he trudged on. It was a duty as king, an honour as a sworn brother and a responsibility as a person to complete his tasks.
The bodies lay side by side, covered in their own shrouds. Aragorn walked past them at their feet, naming each one of them. He stopped at the last of the Rangers. He looked up and around them. Hundreds of bodies lay side by side, covered in their shrouds, Rohirric and Gondorian both. On the other side of Pelennor fields, a bonfire was lit to burn the bodies of their enemies. Then he looked down upon
"Farewell, my brothers," Aragorn murmured. "You have served your king and kingdom well, and aided me, your brother and companion. We will meet again."
