A Farewell To The Prosperities
It was late afternoon in Gondor, the third day of King Elessar's death. The city of Minas Tirith was clouded, and the wind blew even harder and nipper.
Two Mirkwood elves were talking along the lifeless street, who sent by Thranduil to the funeral of the King.
"This is an ominous of the future of Gondor." Said one of them.
"Alas! Maybe it's just a start, who knows what's going to happen next." Replied the other elf in an exhausted voice. It was a long way from Mirkwood to Gondor.
"Maybe the death of Legolas is also related t..."
"Sh.! Don't even talk about that. This isn't a place to investigate these affairs! I can feel that someone is watching us." The other elf warned. But he was right. Not very far away, under the shadow of a stake, dark and umbraged, someone was watching in silent.
Since it was winter, the day was short. No longer than two hours later, it's already pitch-dark.
The White Tower soundlessly loomed afar, only a bind of caliginous light shot out from the high window. Inside the high chamber of the White Tower, a council was holding.
"The people of Gondor were pleased for you came hither to support them in such a perilous and dark time." Announced Gandalf the White, now the Deputy Chief Advisor of Gondor.
"Whom shall the throne accede to?" a hesitated small voice asked. Except Gandalf (who was beside the questioner), no one else heard it.
The question made the Chief Advisor shook, for this is a problem that worried some of the wiser in Gondor for long, because the Throne of Gondor didn't have an heir.
"Peregrin Took! Think over something before you speak them out!" Gandalf commanded in a cold and almost threatening low voice. It was right for Gandalf to stop Pippin from continue on. Because those were the things that even an alien shouldn't know about.
The Hobbit stood by wall, who was on charge to protect the council with the other soldiers of Gondor.
"Where is that Scutz?!" interrupted Gimli in an impatient voice, who came back from Mirkwood in a great haste.
"Scutz? Who is that?" Faramir questioned, who was temporarily representing Rohirrim. (Because of Eowen the Fair)
"Scutz was a minister of Gondor, but is now the Vice Advisor." Said a captain of Gondor.
"Scutz." murmured an elf sent by Elrond, representing Rivendell, "I think I've heard that name before." But he didn't continue, and no one else asked for Scutz.
Time past fast, it was near midnight when the council drew to an end. The ancient bell rang from afar.
The next day was the ritual of the Farewell of the great king. It was a hard time for Gandalf: the one who coronate Aragorn and the one who now hosted the Farewell.
Under the heavy rain, a host people of Gondor knelt before the palace and tried to recall their prosperities. But everything was needless and useless by now. Their great leader was leaving them second by second, and then, gone into the sprays of the great river of Anduin.
"Where is Legolas? Why didn't he come with you?" Scutz asked Gimli half sarcastically before the Farewell started.
"Why should you manage so many things? I wonder how you keep your energy." Gimli asked crossly.
"But you weren't answering the question. It is strange to see the king's friend doesn't want to say a farewell." Scutz didn't seem to stop.
"Fine! Tell you this, Legolas is exhausted right now, he is too tired and sad to come over to any place." Gimli rarely lie, but he knew it was no good for him to say that Legolas was dead and he knew this wouldn't be a secret for long.
The ancient bell rang again, and the Farewell started.
Queen Arwen came upon to the stairs, " In this sad day, we departed with our great leader," she paused, "forever. But we'll remember what he had brought to us, to Gondor, and to Middle Earth," She lifted her head and stared afar, she clearly saw a moving shadow behind a tree.
"Though this is a perilous t
It was late afternoon in Gondor, the third day of King Elessar's death. The city of Minas Tirith was clouded, and the wind blew even harder and nipper.
Two Mirkwood elves were talking along the lifeless street, who sent by Thranduil to the funeral of the King.
"This is an ominous of the future of Gondor." Said one of them.
"Alas! Maybe it's just a start, who knows what's going to happen next." Replied the other elf in an exhausted voice. It was a long way from Mirkwood to Gondor.
"Maybe the death of Legolas is also related t..."
"Sh.! Don't even talk about that. This isn't a place to investigate these affairs! I can feel that someone is watching us." The other elf warned. But he was right. Not very far away, under the shadow of a stake, dark and umbraged, someone was watching in silent.
Since it was winter, the day was short. No longer than two hours later, it's already pitch-dark.
The White Tower soundlessly loomed afar, only a bind of caliginous light shot out from the high window. Inside the high chamber of the White Tower, a council was holding.
"The people of Gondor were pleased for you came hither to support them in such a perilous and dark time." Announced Gandalf the White, now the Deputy Chief Advisor of Gondor.
"Whom shall the throne accede to?" a hesitated small voice asked. Except Gandalf (who was beside the questioner), no one else heard it.
The question made the Chief Advisor shook, for this is a problem that worried some of the wiser in Gondor for long, because the Throne of Gondor didn't have an heir.
"Peregrin Took! Think over something before you speak them out!" Gandalf commanded in a cold and almost threatening low voice. It was right for Gandalf to stop Pippin from continue on. Because those were the things that even an alien shouldn't know about.
The Hobbit stood by wall, who was on charge to protect the council with the other soldiers of Gondor.
"Where is that Scutz?!" interrupted Gimli in an impatient voice, who came back from Mirkwood in a great haste.
"Scutz? Who is that?" Faramir questioned, who was temporarily representing Rohirrim. (Because of Eowen the Fair)
"Scutz was a minister of Gondor, but is now the Vice Advisor." Said a captain of Gondor.
"Scutz." murmured an elf sent by Elrond, representing Rivendell, "I think I've heard that name before." But he didn't continue, and no one else asked for Scutz.
Time past fast, it was near midnight when the council drew to an end. The ancient bell rang from afar.
The next day was the ritual of the Farewell of the great king. It was a hard time for Gandalf: the one who coronate Aragorn and the one who now hosted the Farewell.
Under the heavy rain, a host people of Gondor knelt before the palace and tried to recall their prosperities. But everything was needless and useless by now. Their great leader was leaving them second by second, and then, gone into the sprays of the great river of Anduin.
"Where is Legolas? Why didn't he come with you?" Scutz asked Gimli half sarcastically before the Farewell started.
"Why should you manage so many things? I wonder how you keep your energy." Gimli asked crossly.
"But you weren't answering the question. It is strange to see the king's friend doesn't want to say a farewell." Scutz didn't seem to stop.
"Fine! Tell you this, Legolas is exhausted right now, he is too tired and sad to come over to any place." Gimli rarely lie, but he knew it was no good for him to say that Legolas was dead and he knew this wouldn't be a secret for long.
The ancient bell rang again, and the Farewell started.
Queen Arwen came upon to the stairs, " In this sad day, we departed with our great leader," she paused, "forever. But we'll remember what he had brought to us, to Gondor, and to Middle Earth," She lifted her head and stared afar, she clearly saw a moving shadow behind a tree.
"Though this is a perilous t
