Chapter Text
Beautiful music reached the hobbits' ears. Frodo sat up in the crotch of a tree, his book forgotten; Sam looked up from the simple supper he cooked for them both.
The words of the song were in Quenya.
"Sam!" Frodo whispered, his face alight. "Wood-Elves!"
They ran to the crest of the small woody hill and watched the procession from behind a hillock. The Elves bore lanterns and sang of Elbereth.
Sam sniffed. "Makes me happy, watching them."
"Why shouldn't it, Sam?" Frodo pulled his friend close and nuzzled the white hair at Sam's temple. "They've come home at last."
