Something to feed Alawa's pyre obsession, while also satisfying her Aragorn-Halbarad obsessions.
Mayhap fire's fitting, Aragorn, watching, thinks. Stewards serve all indifferently; therefore let the wind be as generous dispersing their ashes. The thought's not uncomforting, and comfort's needed: smoke rises still from Rath Dînen. But there's yet no king in Gondor—hard judgments can wait. Thus Aragorn will be as indifferent-generous as the funerary dust: unto death they served; let none look further today.