Adrah's Eyes: 3. Epilog: Third Watch

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3. Epilog: Third Watch

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 Avon, Alison, Annette and Tavia for encouragement, comments and suggestions for improving the tale. Remaining infelicities are my own. Thanks to starlight for giving me ideas and references about the hero's journey for another story. They helped here, too.

This is my first piece of fiction, so all ideas, suggestions, corrections, and comments will be especially welcome.

This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.

Story Information

Author: flick

Status: General

Completion: Complete

Era: 3rd Age - Ring War

Genre: Drama

Rating: Adult

Last Updated: 06/07/03

Original Post: 05/11/03

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