The White Tree In Blossom.

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We had all watched in horror as the lava spewed from Mount Doom. I had been certain that Frodo had died.

As it turns out, both Sam and Frodo had survived. After the battle, Gandalf had mounted an Eagle and scooped them up from the volcano edge. He had taken them back to Minas Tirith immediately while the rest of us had the task of marching back to the city, hoping that the Halflings did not die while we were away.

The ride back to Minas Tirith was uneventful, the horses were rugged and the men were sluggish. We stopped to rest that night so the injured could be properly be tended to.

We reached the White City by midday and we all immediately rushed to the infirmary ward to check up on Sam and Frodo.

Sam was the first to wake. He looked different to last I saw him, all those months ago. His usual chipper smile was gone, replaced by a gaunt and obviously forced smile. His port belly had seemed to be depleted a little, he looked as if he hadn't even in weeks.

Gandalf was sat by Frodo's bed. I knew that he felt guilty for everything that happened to Frodo. Saruman had poked at that wound back at Isengard, about what words of comfort Gandalf had given Frodo before throwing him to his death.

According to the healers, Frodo would likely be laid up in bed for a day or two. As much as we all wanted to see him wake, we were still fresh from battle.

We pressed for Sam to recount the events that led him to Mount Doom. He wasn't as cheerful as last we saw him but that was to be suspected given the account of his journey. My heart wept for him, I hated that the poor Hobbits had to go through this. I wondered how Frodo was feeling.

That evening, I retired to Legolas' room. After all that happened, I didn't feel like being alone. Also, he was my favourite pillow.

"What do we do now?" I asked as I sighed, resting my head on him as we laid down.

"What do you mean?" He asked curiously.

"I mean, the Ring has been destroyed. What do we do now?" I repeated myself quietly.

Sure, we had all joked about what we wanted to do after the Ring was destroyed but none of us actually thought we would be alive to see the day again.

"I don't know. I suppose we go our separate ways..." He mused.

"Together," I smiled, wrapping my arms around him and falling asleep.

***

The next day, we all sat in the courtyard, next to Frodo's room. We waiting in silence, anxious as to when the Halfling would wake.

Sam was the most on edge, I could tell. I couldn't blame him, he had just spent the better part of months with Frodo.

To our relief, news had been brought from Mirkwood concerning the siege. The fighting had ceased with King Thranduil's victory.

I could tell Legolas was immensely relieved by the news, knowing not only was his father was alive and well, but Mirkwood had survived as well. I had no doubt that after Aragorn's coronation, he would hurry back to Mirkwood.

It was around mid afternoon when we heard laughter from Frodo's room. Merry and Pippin were immediately on their feet, rushing into the room, the rest of us following suite.

"Frodo!" They exclaimed, jumping into the bed and hugging their dear friend.

"Gimli!" Frodo chuckled as the dwarves marched into the room, a broad smile on his face.

I linked my arm with Legolas as we followed behind Gimli, Frodo's eyes lighting up at the sight of us. Aragorn joined us next, we stood at the foot of the bed, watching the Hobbits with warm smiles.

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