The Night's Wanderer

37. The End of a Lifetime

As the sun settled from the sky Gandalf left, stating he had to locate two Troublemakers before the guards of the white city arrest them. The Wizard's steps faded away, a pair of striding steps replacing them as the owner drew near. With an ear to ear grin and a tray of food balanced in one hand while the other held books and parchment Aragorn joined his elven friends for the evening. 

The uncrowned-king had finally decided to start scaling the mountain of Royal work expected from him before his coronation. Unknown to Aragorn that past Kings and Queens of the white city had created over a hundred individual traditions, ceremonies and rituals, all of which are documented in the Royal Library over stray sheets of parchment or recorded in large leather bound books. 

Overall, Aragorn now felt very overwhelmed by the sudden large workload on his back. 

The man just couldn't have a break!

But instead of battling the unreasonable internal demon of his self doubt and fear of failure Aragorn sought out his loyalist friends. 

Plus he knew Legolas had done some of these Royal duties before in his long life. That came as a huge bonus. Morel had little experience in such things, but held the same reluctance for a royal title assigned to her which would overall comfort Aragorn. 

So with a tray of bowls on his right hand and various rolls of parchment sealed by string or smaller books wedged under his arms, Aragorn made his way onto the balcony, offering Morel a smile in greeting. 

"I see you have brought your work with you." Legolas mused, taking a few of the parchments rolls just before they clattered to the ground. 

Morel chuckled at the natural clumsiness from Aragorn, the Ranger never having been clumsy from what she knew. Her past blind state hid away the times he fumbled over his feet when they walked or how twigs from trees often got pinged into his face when he mothered the Hobbits.

"I came bearing you a warm meal! Such a cruel statement." Aragorn jokes, the two males chuckling as they settled everything on the table. 

The trio sat; Morel eating the food handed to her while Legolas became a scribe with a quill and blank parchment while Aragorn read out key information. His ancestors had clearly liked waffling considering they had two simple sentences from one whole book so far. 

Morel had lit the table lamp, the candle shielded by external elements by glass panes, with a click of her fingers. The blue flame danced off her thumb and to the candle wick, evolving from the unnatural blue hue to warm oranges and yellows as it burned into the night. 

Along with the warm glow of the candle the moon and stars gave the working pair a white glow to work under. Clouds cleared from the azure sky, finally letting the moon and stars out properly to watch over the sleeping land. 

Unlike the usual greeting of thousands of voices at once Morel found them quiet, soothing in a way. Instead of intrusive thoughts and mixed words a soft harmonious buzz filled her thoughts. 

The Council, for once, had nothing urgent to say.  

Unsettled by their quiet nature, feeling that maybe they desired privacy or her full attention, she stood from the stone bench to look out at the city layered below them from the balcony. 

Slowly voices spoke up, warm and gentle as the Council uttered words of praise. They praised the Fellowship of their completed task, praising their Wanderer of the decisions made, and ultimately how the evil leeching of the land had finally been removed. They spoke of how they could finally leave Morel in peace, confusing the elleth. 

Instead she focused on their praise of her decisions. Anything she contemplated in the past weeks came with no consequence, as in the end she did what she pledged to do in the beginning. Morel had been bound to the task Frodo inherited from his uncle. To help him whenever he needed, no matter the risk to herself. And that she had done.