Blossoms -- The Quest Continues...

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Subject: Blossoms

Author:
Aragorn

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Date Posted: 12:03:44 05/24/02 Fri

Aryante's words brought hope to his heart that lay like lead in his chest. It would be so easy to accept this excuse; it was not his fault and yet a part of him nagged that it was.

He cast his eyes over the limp form of the man who had been alive just hours ago. You should not have died.
He had not liked the man and yet as he looked at the lifeless body that had been Deollyn a tear blossomed from his eye and rolled down his cheek.

Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. Even the very wise cannot see all ends.

Gandalf's words to Frodo surfaced in his mind. They were spoken softly to the small hobbit but Aragorn sitting not two metres away had heard all. Oh that Gandalf were here now.

Outside the room no one waited for him.

He sank deeper into depression, alone in his time of need once more.

In the distance he could see a servant placing torches in brackets, swiftly he turned and walked the other way towards the gardens. The courtyard where the white tree stood was close but he didn't feel worthy of its company at the moment so he sat down in the abandoned gardens under a willow and brought the flute out of his pocket. It was always with him now; as if its very presence calmed the storm in his soul.

For a while he sat, the flute resting gently on his knees, the rough bark of the tree against his back, soothing.

Then he played: his anguish becoming notes on the breeze that echoed in the empty gardens.

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