The grey-eyed man was silent upon meeting the Dwarf-Lord. Wordlessly, he bowed low.

The Dwarf seemed puzzled. “And who am I, that the King Elessar should bow to me?”

“No longer Elessar, here,” the Man answered, head still bent and eyes lowered in respect. “All Kingdoms are washed away, the earth purified by fire. No crown has followed me into this new life. But I know you by your manner and bearing, Thorin Oakenshield. Bilbo often spoke of you, and Gimli also. Your tale gave me courage to continue when I would have turned aside.”

The Dwarf smiled. “Then I am glad. For what greater gift could I give than hope?”

And the Man, who had been Hope to so many, smiled in return and lifted his head to meet the Dwarf’s gaze. “I believe I understand what you mean.”

The Dwarf’s eyes were knowing, wise beyond their years as he turned to look out at the new world, shining and gleaming with the dew of a new morning. “If not you,” he murmured, “then who would?”