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Drabbles on Hobbits; a Generous Bakers' Dozen
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To The Ending of the World

Halbarad, in joy.


Black bloomed and snapped above him in the wind, velvet-dark as midnight, set with burning stars; Halbarad smiled to hear the Horse-lords laugh amazement and the City sing joy, sunlight bright and smoky wind keen as only a man before his death might feel them. If they lost the day, no land in the West would long remain fair; if in triumph they preserved the little green land that was for so long his welcome charge, what better death might he meet? So, singing as he bore the standard of star, tree, and crown, Halbarad followed Aragorn's bright-flashing sword.


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