Epilogue: The Lay of the RingbearerCommander Althamus stood looking over the balcony of Minas Tirith towards what had been Mordor. It was no longer teeming with filthy life; most of the Orcs had been culled slowly over the years between the War of the Ring and now, and the land was being reclaimed and cultivated by men who could live in individual houses, unafraid of Orcs bands attacking them. A noise from behind made him turn. A Citadel Guard stood behind him. “King Elessar will see you now, my lord.” “Thank you. You may go.” Straightening his brown robe, his hand caught his sword, which he still wore, even in times filled with more peace then had been known for many generations. He pushed his brown hair flecked with grey back, causing it to momentarily glimmer in the setting sun, and went into the throne room, limping slightly as he did so. The long years of fighting had left their mark on him, in more ways than mentally.
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Inside the throne-room, stood the King Elessar. His hair was slightly flecked with grey near the temples, but his eyes were just as bright as when Althamus had first met him, many moons ago on the Fields of the Pelennor. He turned when Althamus came in, and came to greet him. “Althamus, how are you now? What news have you heard from your rangers in Mordor?” “I am fine my liege. Never felt better. The rangers have returned. They have only found a few Orcs in Mordor, and culled them for only two losses - Engold and Ganen. I have sent people around to their widows to inform them of their loss. Without their dark master to guide them, the Orcs numbers are falling, and they are retreating further and further into the Dark Land.” “You have done well Althamus. And you are intent on retiring still?” “I am my liege. My life has been full of fighting, and I wish to spend the rest of it in peace, enjoying the prosperity we have earned though much toil.” “Very well, then. I release you from my service to do whatsoever you will. I will also see that a suitable amount of gold finds its way to you, you have worked hard, and deserve a peaceful retirement.” Althamus sank to one knee “I thank you my Lord.” Pulling his bracers off his wrists, he offered them up to the King. “These were given to me by the Steward’s nephew a while ago, such that he might let me see him. They were never needed in the end, but I return them to you, for I was told that they were heirlooms, and of great sentimental value. I am not sure if that is still the case, but I return them for I will need them no more, though well they have served me.” So saying, he rose and walked to the door, turning at the doorway, he bowed and then walked through, closing the doors behind him. His fleeting last image of the king was one of a middle aged man, looking wryly after him and fingering the bracers absent-mindedly. |
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Althamus walked down the road away from the palace, a spring in his step for the first time in however many years. As he left the city, and went to the small collection of houses which had built up outside the city, he thought of how glad he was that he had bought a house outside the city. It was far more spacious and there was a wonderful view of the hills blowing with long grass and Rohan in the distance, with its wide rolling plains and occasional rider cantering across the fields. As Althamus neared the house, a woman burst out from it and came to him. He embraced her, and kissed her forehead, whispering “I am home now, Angelsbreath. Never more will I leave to wander.” and together they stood looking out across the fields, watching the sun setting into the west behind the Anorien mountains, tingeing the sky with red and filling them with happiness for the times yet to come. |
