My heartbeat quickens. The King! King Elessar will pass here, in front of my very own eyes. I shall be the one in the front row, throwing my flowers on his head. Blessed be him! I picked those flowers all by myself, hard work though it was. I have none to help me, the child I had, lives no more. But I feel no regret for that hardship. None could be more deserving, more kingly, more powerful. And yet the glint of his eyes speak of wisdom earned through hard years.

I would have sworn before that he could be my son, young as he is. But now, as he comes closer I doubt my earlier judgment. Beyond the joy, those eyes are too knowing, too deep to belong to the young man he looks to be. He approaches. 'Hail, King Elessar'.

But as he comes hither yet, my voice falters, my head drops. The flowers I picked for him, now fall free from my numb hands, a single tear follows them. White flowers they are, lilies.

He suddenly halts, in front of me. I dare not to look up, my eyes behold his feet. Black boots he has, polished but worn. I wish he would go on, even the crowd seems to grow quiet. They don't know why he halted. I don't know why he halted.

Suddenly he drops to one knee, picking up my white lilies that did not fall in his way. I turn white. He shall be angry with me for not giving him proper respect. He is, after all, a warrior and the King who Returned. And I feel my old limbs shaking, all power fleeting from them. He stands up now, and I lose my breath again, for he places his hand under my chin. He lifts it up until I have no choice but to look into those silver eyes of his. There is nothing in them that I can describe, nothing I have words for.

He says naught himself, only bows his head and kisses my brows... I am in a dream, I must be. The lilies from his hands, he puts them into my gray hair with care. And then he smiles and leaves.

It takes some time to feel again, to see again and hear again. Even the crowd seems quiet still.

But after this one last breath of silence, the air seems to tremble with the cheers. The very stones of the City seem to quake. All around me people are smiling, shouting, laughing with tears in their eyes.

Flower petals flow colorfully in the air, and all fear is suddenly gone from me like dew disappears when the summer sun smiles down in the morning. One young lass embraces me, why I know not, and I care not. I place my wrinkled arms on her soft shoulders and together we cry:

'The King has Returned! Hail King Elessar!'