The night breeze blows through your dark hair, nipping at your cheeks as you watch the stars in the sky.

Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas and the others drink and make merry with the men at Helm’s deep. You couldn’t bring yourself to join them. They had won the battle- but only for now.

There was more to come. You could feel it in the stench of blood in the air, the stained field below the terrace. This war has only begun.

“Why do you stay out here?” A voice asks- a familiar one. Aragorn.