After serious months of thought, I decided that this is how I want to end this story. I hope you guys don't miss the point of this little fiction, that no matter how you look or who you are, there are so many different reasons why you are beautiful. It does not matter how much you weigh or how perfect your skin is, there is always something more precious about you than your looks alone, the real you inside is the true beauty that everyone will admire and love about you. Your actions and how you treat others have more effect than you could ever believe, so please remember that in life, although we are human, there is little humanity left. Remember why your parents love you and why your friends are your friends, because those are the reasons and the things that truly matter, not the things that show on the outside. The outside of you is just the chest, the real treasure, the gold that is priceless, is what is found within.

Love Silver x

Legolas blinked as Rana took one last shuddering breath before her eyes glazed over. He lifted her to his face and he kissed her brow, his tears pouring over her as he shook. He looked up to see Sauron's tower fall, the mountain explode and the flames from within spill down the rock face.

Fate was so cruel. In the same battle, they had lost Rana and now Sam and Frodo too. Legolas's heart beat wildly, still clinging to Rana's body. He felt as if this was some cruel joke of the Valar. He felt as if his clothes had been torn from him and was now curled up in a blackness, swallowed in grief.

He realised painfully and slowly that he had cared for Rana more than he had first thought, not just as an ally but as a close friend and sister. He remembered her strength, her courage and gentleness with all those weaker than her. She had a face of a monster but that was not who she had been. She had been an angel cloaked in shadows, unable to break free.

Gandalf had already climbed onto Gwahir's back and flown with the other eagles to the mountain to search for Frodo. Aragorn stood. "Who will help me carry her?" Legolas nodded his head simply. Eomer stepped forwards and lay a hand on his heart.

"She fought to protect my people, I shall carry her with you." There was silence before all at once, the soldiers stepped forwards around her. They all lifted her up, carrying her limp body over their heads and passing her to one another, carrying her away from the battlefield.

Some kissed their fingers then touched her face, others caught their tears and let them drip onto her body, some merely carried her in solemn silence. Aragorn stared at them. Is this what it had taken for people to understand that Rana was not a monster? It took her death?

Aragorn started forwards and placed his hands on Rana's shoulder, lifting her also. Eomer took her other shoulder and Legolas stood by her waist whilst the other men took turns in carrying her to her horse.

Ironwind took a few steps forwards then let an ear piercing scream, rearing up as lightning flashed behind him. He looked like a phantom ghost, magnificent with his armour and flying red colours. His grief could be heard by every soldier as he ran to his rider, nuzzling and biting on her hair, begging her to wake up. When they placed her on his back, he quietened and he became morbid, his head hanging low, his bright eyes now dull.

Not even Shadowfax could comfort him. The army returned to Minas Tirith and the men brightened, suddenly celebrating and running to their wives and children, smiling and laughing with joy. They had won the war.

Aragorn led Ironwind through the streets before heading towards the hall of his fathers. He ordered a great pyre to be made at the tip of the city, where her ashes could then rise up into the wind and be free.

Women came to clean her body and they wrapped her in a fresh scarlet cape, smoothing her silk hair and placing oils on her skin to minimise the smell of burning flesh. Her body was preserved, waiting for her time. Everyone needed rest and Aragron sent word to her kin that Rana had passed.

Two days later on the evening of her burning, the elves came. They walked through the streets singing, their cloaks gleaming as bright as the tears on their cheeks. Their lanterns lit the way as they walked up to Rana's pyre and stood, grieving. Elrond looked more remorseful than usual but Elrohir and Elladan were inconsolable. The moment they saw Aragorn and Legolas, they clasped each other close like brothers.

Lothlorien elves stood silent and still as Galadriel and Celebron whispered prayers, hands clasped tightly in one another's. Lady Galadriel's light shone brightly in the dark, but the moment she saw the pyre, tears left her eyes and she instantly faded to a slight shimmer.

Four strong men lifted Rana onto her wooden pallet to be carried out to the pyre.

It was night now and everyone had bathed and changed. Soldiers of both Rohan and Minas Titith came, holding lit candles as Rana was carried forwards. Women came to thank her for fighting with their husbands, fathers and brothers, children came simply because they were curious. The ones who truly mourned, were the fellowship and the elves, who had watched her from afar and grown to love her.

Gandalf had returned with Frodo and Sam, who were both exhausted beyond belief but he had left their sides to come to Rana's funeral pyre. Aragorn and Legolas stood with the torches, tears shining in their eyes.

"Now passes a warrior, a friend, a sister…" He said to her. "Her face was disfigured, her heart was closed but when someone showed her love, she blossomed." Gimli gripped the hobbits' shoulders as they sobbed quietly. "Rana Vanmoriel was beautiful in her soul and no one would allow themselves to see her, so she cut herself off from the world to keep people from being frightened of her existence." Legolas looked up as Rana passed him. She looked so peaceful. "Her strength, her courage, her love and compassion have inspired me. She should inspire you as well, for there was never a heart as pure as hers." The elves all lifted their heads and began to chant softly.

"Savo hîdh nen gurth. Ú-firo i laiss e-guil gîn." (Have peace in death. May the leaves of your life never die) Haldir stepped forwards without looking up, placing his hand on the covered figure of Rana. He then pulled out a box from his pocket, opening it to look down at the shells. He tossed them carefully onto her pyre, counting in his head before the last one was placed carefully beside her head, the largest conch he could have ever found.

"Twenty seven." He whispered to her before stepping back. No one questioned him. Aragorn nodded to Legolas and they stepped forwards, tipping their torches forwards. The flames sprung to life and began to lick at the wood and at her robes.

"There she stood…against her hooded foe."

Pippin choked, starting a song with a soft but audible voice as Merry rubbed his shoulder softly.

"She could have run but she-she did not go."

He sniffed and then leaned into Merry who sniffed and continued.

"Her sword in hand she did what was right
With eyes ablaze Rana stood to fight.
Her heart of courage was full of love
White and pure like the winter dove.
Though she could not see it inside
We tried to show her…how we tried."

Merry could not finish alone and shook Pippin slightly. "Help me." He whispered and Pippin nodded, pulling himself together. They sang out loud and true.

"She saved our lives, a stranger of black
Leading us through onto the safest track.
Her voice was rough but her words were soft
When she sang…her voice could carry us aloft.
Now you are gone our fearless friend
We are sorry you felt alone to the end."

Haldir pressed his eyes shut at the last line. The two hobbits gave a beautiful lament, their voices harmonising perfectly but it tore at his heartstrings. She had been alone, because everyone was too afraid of something that looked foul.

And so they stood for hours to come, heads bowed as mournful laments were offered up to the stars, the tiny embers joining their multitude until the heat of the flames had grown to a bright intensity, climbing a stairwell to the sky which Rana's soul climbed, singing with the wind as she finally felt at peace, able to fly into the western sun which had long since set, casting one last look back on the people she had grown to love over the course of their journey.

Though their tears stained their faces, she could not help but smile to them. Though she could feel their pain, she knew deep down that this was the better way. She was now free, free to be at peace and sleep for eternity and listen to the worries of thousands to come, who would go to the memorial of Rana Vanmoriel to tell her of their troubles.

She listened, always listened, no matter who the person. Whether it was Aragorn or his children, or their children, or the maid from the kitchens, or even the guards from the citadel.

And sometimes, if someone was in great despair and their heart was open to the comfort of Rana's soul, sometimes, very softly, they might even hear her singing to them, whereby they would slowly begin to smile and lift up their heads to the skies where all their worries would momentarily leave them, remaining with only a soft melody in their hearts with the most beautiful voice that ever graced Middle Earth with its existence.