The golden sun rose and brought its warmth and light to Gondor, yet a gloom still lingered in the City. No bird dared to sing, nor could one hear any sound of nature. The usually busy streets of Minas Tirith were empty. All was silent. Slowly and sadly, a bell began to toll. No one needed to be told for whom it was ringing, for they had already guessed and word spread through the City of another death. Sir Peregrin, Soldier of Gondor, had followed his cousin and a new tomb was to be raised next to Meriadoc's memorial.
Earlier that morning, in the dawn's chilly air, Aragorn had walked towards the room he had visited so often. The door was closed, and it seemed as if a shadow had descended upon it. All was still and quiet. His hand reached for the doorknob. It was cold, and seemed to foreshadow what the King feared. Slowly he opened the door. Barely any light entered that room. His eyes went to the small figure that was lying in the bed. Aragorn walked towards the bed, and reached out to feel for a pulse. Nothing. A solitary tear slid down the King's regal face. "Rest well, my Little Knight," he whispered to the lifeless figure.
He looked down upon his old friends face. Just as in life, Pippin's still figure bore a small smile. Pippin would never have to be sad again for he was with his cousin, never again to be parted.
"Farewell, my Little Friend, may we meet again someday," Aragorn said and left the sad room in silence.
After arranging for the funeral, Aragorn slowly walked out to the White Tree. Letting his tears fall, Aragorn sat on the very bench that Pippin and Bergil sat on just the night before. It was hard for him to say farewell to those two hobbits, to whom he had grown very fond. And as he sat underneath the Tree's white branches, silver tears fell from the King's sorrowful eyes. As, he sat there weeping; he was unaware that his Queen was silently approaching him.
"He is gone?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.
"He has followed his cousin, never again to return to Middle-earth," said the sorrowed King, lifting his eyes up to greet Arwen. The beautiful Queen sat down with her Beloved, a sparkling tear was on her fair cheek, and her elven eyes had a sorrow in them.
That evening the funeral was held. Beside Merry's tomb, another had been made. The hobbits were to be together, as they always were. Aragorn had declared that a special ceremony was to be held in the City, for the last hobbits of the Fellowship had departed Middle-earth.
A large and special ceremony was held for the memory of the two small knights. Most everyone in Minas Tirith was gathered together. Barely anyone among those living in Minas Tirith remembered when Peregrin and Meriadoc first came to the City. The funeral was solemn and Peregrin was buried with the honor of a Knight of Gondor, and he was given, like Merry, the honor to be buried among the Kings of Gondor.
After the funeral Aragorn stayed by the two small tombs. How painful it was to him to loose those two happy hobbits. It also was a cruel reminder of the fate of all mortals.
Standing by the King, was the Steward, Faramir. Pippin's death was a painful blow to him. He owed so much to that small Knight of the City. Pippin had saved his life once. Faramir knelt solemnly by the tomb and wept.
Another man also remained at the tombs. Bergil was deeply sorrowed at the death of his dear friend, and for the rest of his life he was to treasure that last conversation he had with Pippin. Memories of the past went through his mind. He remembered when he first met that jovial hobbit, so many years ago.
Legolas was overwhelmed by the death of the hobbits. Being an Elf, mortality was strange and different to him. His thoughts went back, years ago, when Boromir died. "Why," he wondered to himself, "why must it be that the mortals, the Men, the Hobbits, and the Dwarves, be subject to the crosses of mortality. Alas that the Elves have the fate to watch them disappear from the land of the living!"
Legolas' thoughts then turned to the other two members of the Fellowship. In time, both Aragorn and Gimli would leave him also. He would be the only one left. He would be the one left to weep for those who have departed that realm. The "sea-longing" had also been troubling him for some time, yet he could not make himself leave his companions in Middle-earth.
Rain came forth from the mountains and in the distance; thunder was heard, though no one saw lightning. The sky's grey tears fell upon the White City all that day, and even in the Shire, a grey shower fell from the heavens. Silver droplets of the sky's tears fell into the Brandywine River. That night there were no stars, and the moon remained hidden.
The day of the Gondorian New Year came, yet Aragorn's heart was still heavy. He had looked forward to celebrating the day with his hobbit friends, yet now only three of the Fellowship remained in Middle-earth. That evening the annual feast was held in the King's Hall, and the three remaining members of the Fellowship celebrated the holiday together.
Time went by. Spring came. Then summer, and autumn and winter came in their turn. And as the seasons passed, so did the years, until the day came when, at last, the King of Gondor ended his long rule. The only noise to be heard in Gondor that day was the weeping of its people. Shortly after the renowned King died, his Beloved Arwen too departed the land of the living, and passed away in the forest of Lothlorien.
Legolas, unable to endure his sea longing any more, built a ship to go into the West. Going with him, was Gimli, for no love of Middle-earth could keep him from going with his dear friend or seeing the Lady Galadriel again. The Elf and Dwarf would also bear the tombs of the late King and the two hobbits with them into the West.
As the Elf and Dwarf left the shores of Middle-earth forever, Legolas stood by the remains of his three friends and sighed.
"You miss them," said Gimli breaking the silence.
"Yes, I do," answered Legolas.
"Me too, both Aragorn and the two little hobbits."
The two friends remained silent, for a while, until finally Legolas spoke.
"We are the last Gimli. We are the last of the Fellowship to leave Middle-earth. All the others have gone before us," said Legolas
"Aye. So is our fate."
"Do you regret your leaving Middle-earth?"
"No I don't, for how could I live without my dear friend. The Fellowship shall never again be parted as it was in Parth Galen. It is also an honor to escort the bodies of our dear friends to the White Shores," said Gimli.
"Yes, it is an honor. Among the Great they were."
"Aye," echoed Gimli, "Among the Great."
The End