A birthday drabble for Frodobaggins88

HEART’S DESIRE

Frodo sat in the courtyard of the Citadel, looking at the White Tree in bloom. Somehow it eased his heart to see and smell the lovely tree, symbol of all that was now right in the world. He sighed. If only all were right within himself. He could never forgive himself that moment of weakness at the Fire--had it not been for that perhaps his own heart would not be torn with desire for the Thing that was destroyed.

“Frodo?” said a gentle voice.

“Arwen!”

“I just wanted to thank you, my friend. You have given me my heart’s desire.”