Topic: "Blood and Swash" (3)
Legolas and Frodo traveled together to the Broad River Gelbvieh Farm to reunite with Boromir. It had been many years since last the ancient warriors had stood together. It was the first time since the passing of Boromir's Galadriel.
Upon the crest of the hill the flag held firmly to its position at half-staff. No formal declaration was necessary, nor even common for one who served by waiting, an oversight in the system, for sure. Wisps of clouds, like the tresses of a maiden, flowed gently behind as the backdrop to this quiet memorial for the Hostess of Broad River.
Boromir led from that spot down to the hay barn where they watched the newly-weaned bellow back-and-forth as their mothers wandered up-and-down along the dividing fence. Following other cattle through the next pasture, the triumvirate stopped by the pond serving its refrigerant to the denizens who waded through its surface to relieve the heat of mid-day. They stood under the oaks and the hickorys, and they talked of battles long ago fought while in service to the King. Not much was said about opponents felled, rather it was of scars showing, inside and out, and of those with whom they had served about which much is today unknown.
Gathered they then for a cooling repast, and then to share in the bounty of that land in feast. Words were spake about the Lady Galadriel and days to come that require not planning, nor lamentation, but a new level of normalcy. As a tear fell, it was met by the wise and respectful silence of warriors with open ears, and hearts.
Commemorative pictures were ascribed to share with members of the Fellowship in absentia that day. Hands were clasped, chests together, as only old warriors know how. Promises were made as directions three led them away from their gathering. The clouds had drawn back from the hillside and the flag waved to each traveler, in his own mind.