The spring air was chilly, but people flocked outdoors nonetheless. Not only did people flock outdoors, but many traveled the length and breadth of Middle Earth just to arrive in Gondor for this day. The voices of excited children, the calm conversation of adults, and the gentle sound of music all filled the air and mix with each other. Man, Elf, Dwarf, and Hobbit all stood side by side, eating, drinking, and all-around being merry. After the fall of Sauron, the peoples of Middle Earth began to mingle, producing many more half-breed children. Any remaining racial tension was eliminated, if only for this day. For this day was one of celebration.
On that particular morning, it had been exactly twenty-five years since the destruction of the One Ring, and the Dark Lord Sauron, and the people of Middle Earth were rushing to Minas Tirith for the celebration of their victory. Decorations lined the streets, and minstrels and bards stood on every corner, playing music, attempting to attract attention. The taverns and pubs were filled with Men and Dwarves, who were slowly drinking the entire city dry.
Also on that particular day, on one particular corner, in one particular area of the sixth circle of Minas Tirith, a Half-Elf stood, playing his wooden flute like many other bards and minstrels did. However, this one particular Half-Elf, was different from the rest.
That particular Half-Elf was named Saiven. And Saiven had a secret. A very, very big one. It ate at his insides, and he knew that this day of celebration was about to be cut short.
(Stupid Disclaimer So I Don't Get Sued: I don't own Middle Earth, its characters or anything relating to is except for the original characters Saiven, Nevias, and Isofir. All other original characters belong to their respective payers on TOR.N)