A dream led me here and like a dream it seems, were mine ever so peaceful.

Yes, here is Peace, tended by the Elves in the unwavering light of fairer times; I recognize her fragrant sighs though it was long ago she fled from Gondor, and my home. Here she finds rest.

Beyond this vale we scrap and snarl our ways through the changing years, ignorantly seeking what all the while has been hidden here: age without infirmity, memory without fail – the chance to make a mark that will not fade.

What meaning can they take in life without end?