Epilogue
Faramir walked down the long hall and went through the open door of the outer chamber of Adrah’s rooms. He approached the door to her bedchamber. As he lifted his hand to knock, a sudden memory washed over him. He had been standing almost in this same spot. He smiled and put his fingertips on the smooth oak of the door for a long moment, almost in a caress. Then he lifted his hand and knocked softly.
“Come,” he heard from within.
Adrah stood looking out her east window. Her rooms were on the topmost level of the northeastern tower of the King’s House. Faramir crossed the flagstone floor to stand beside her. Through the open casement, he could see the sun just rising over the Mountains of Shadow far away. He could just make out the glints of gold and silver reflected on the waters of the Anduin below. The White Tower, just ahead and slightly to the right, had taken on a faint, coral glow. Its banners waved gently in a freshening morning breeze.
He put a hand on his niece’s arm and turned her to him. She was not really beautiful, he supposed, but her tall, graceful form and strong-jawed face tugged at his heart. And her coloring was striking. Her hair was long and as black as his own was, years ago. Her eyes were usually a light, clear gray, but they changed with her moods just as his brother’s eyes always had.
“You will make a lovely bride this day,” he said. “I thought you would be up to watch the dawn.”
Then he saw that her eyes were bright with unshed tears. He pulled her swiftly into his arms. “Oh, my sweet child, I miss him too.”
“You have been as a father to me…” she began.
“And you are a daughter to me,” said Faramir, “but that does not mean we miss him any less or do not long for him, especially today.”
They held each other close for a moment. Then he put her gently away from him, his hands on her shoulders. “Do not mar those eyes with weeping. He would be so very proud of you.”
They stood unmoving as the sun rose higher over the White City, and their eyes spoke of many things, of love and loss and remembering. There had never been much need for words between them.
“Uncle,” she said, finally, “will you dance the pavan with me, later in the Hall of Feasts?”
“’Tis out of fashion,” he replied, lightly he hoped. He had thought her too young to remember.
“Even so,” said Adrah, her eyes smiling, “even so. We will all dance it together.”
*******
Authors Notes: Tolkien refers to the plague during the reign of Telemnar in Appendix A of Return of the King. He also refers to a “Long Winter” that took place during a later period. In my story-within-a-story in chapter 2, Boromir is remembering both these historical events from Gondor’s history and using them, on the fly as it were, for his own purposes. Thanks to starlight, tavia and Avon for suggestions and encouragement for this tale.
Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Middle Earth and its characters belong to Professor Tolkien, his estate, and (to a certain extent) New Line Cinema. I’m just visiting and take nothing from the visit but joy.