The italics roll as the son of Gondor rides up to the city gates, clothing stained from travel and battle, his body weary and still recovering from injuries, but grey eyes lighting up with joy as he gazes up once again to the white tower of Ecthelion.
He leaves his horse with a groom at the stable within the first circle, preferring to walk through his city, wanting to feel again the stones beneath his feet as he reflects upon all that he has loved and lost and missed.
It does not take long to reach the center, and his heart jumps as he once again gazes upon the old familiar Steward's quarters. He wonders what he will find here. Who will be there to greet him? Will anything be the same?
He prepares himself for what must inevitably be: Eomer is not one to wait, and will have certainly given up on ever seeing him again. His father.... Will his father even recognize him now? And where will he find Legolas? Faramir and the lovely Isildur? Will they even be here, or will they simply be going on with their lives in Ithilien? Beruthiel..... Has she escaped from that husband of hers? Does she still think of Gondor as home?
Most of all: Will his
daughter, now no longer a child, forgive him this for this long and impossible journey to the other side of the world and back? However unavoidable it was, it has been far too long.
Some things that are lost can never be found again....