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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hmm... Well, not much to say about this, my dears. These two have always struck me as a beautiful pair, and I decided that their parting should be no less.

...I do sound sophisticated today, don't I?

In truth, this is really the product of an overdose of Yuki Kajiura and miniature chocolate-chip cookies.
Fading as Autumn


“Do you remember those rides we used to take through the gardens, Faramir?”


Rain pattered softly upon the windows, though unheeded by the occupants of the chamber. A lady, though once tall and proud, sat stooped upon a cushioned window seat. Although her unbound hair was for the most part a soft silver, the occasional strand of flaxen gold winked through, giving the locks an almost luminescent quality. Her eyes gave the impression of the sky in the aftermath of a storm: the faded and softened echo of fierce passion. Worn and creased by age, her wistfully smiling face was turned upon the aged man seated beside her.


“How could I not, Eowyn?” Faramir murmured, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from the woman’s face. “I could have just sat back and watched you ride… You seemed to me the epitome of life and love. You had faced death and sorrow, and yet could hold your head high and take pleasure in simple things of life.”


“And are you saying I cannot now?” Eowyn inquired with a mock pout, folding her arms across her breast. With a slight laugh, she settled her silver head upon the man’s shoulder. “It does seems so far away, now…”


A soft sigh escaped the elderly Prince of Ithilien’s lips. Indeed, it seemed almost another life when he had first laid eyes upon Eowyn. A fašade of cold courage was ever in place upon her countenance, but looking into her eyes, Faramir had seen a lost little girl forced to reach adulthood before her time. But he had also seen those same eyes betray such peace not long after. His wife was a puzzle that he had yet to work out.


Yet it seemed to him that the dusk of their days was descending, dimming behind the horizon. Fond memories seemed all he had yet to hold on to…


“Faramir?” Eowyn asked softly, brushing her love’s wizened face with a pale hand.


“We seem to be fading, Eowyn,” Faramir sighed, stroking her moon-hued hair. “Naught but memories ourselves… Memories of great deeds, and an image of reminiscence.”


With a sad smile, Eowyn caught the man’s hand in her own. “Talk not of such things,” she whispered.


After several moments’ quiet, she spoke again. “Like the Autumn leaves, we may fade,” she said slowly. “Though without the passing of the old, there can be no new things. While I have you, I will not grieve for what has been. Instead, let us think of what will be.” The two lapsed into comfortable silence once more, listening to the soft whisper of the wind and rain.


And so fierce sheildmaiden and gentle captain drifted into the future, wrapped in one last warm embrace.
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