Disclaimer: I still don't own Lord of the Rings.

A/N: This is officially my hundredth story. I felt like I had to return to Faramir and Eowyn for it. Read, enjoy, let me know what you think.


In the end he will regret his love for her.

She has not foresight and her people have no great legacy for Seeing, but it is inevitable.

The end will dawn and she will wither like the lilies and the poises do, fade into memory, glory long since past. And he will love her no less and that will be his sorrow.

For memory and dust cannot reciprocate emotion, memory cannot love or hold or whisper back. She will be another phantom that rest in the recesses of his mind, another ghost he chases in the deep quiet of the night when the world around him settles into sleep.

In the end he will find himself alone.

She will become a fragment over which he will ponder, some shadow that proves as distant as all the rest, doubly bitter over what was given but never gained.

In their life he will love her with everything that has been granted to him, he will promise her the stars and the sea, gift her with the sweetest lilies and the most beautiful of children.

"When I am gone," she will say from time to time, "it would be best to forget me."

And he will frown in those moments, because, for all his knowledge of mortality and their differences, he will not wish to spare thought for it. "When you are gone lady," he will tell her, placing a kiss on her brow, fingers tangled in hair that will one day grow white and thin, "I will remember with all the more ardor."

She will wish then that he would not and know it to be in vain. 'Memory can offer no explanation.'

They will make a life out of the peace and the silence and he will give her every part of him, draw forth smiles and laughs and tears in turn. And for this she will love him and dread what is to come: a day when she is dust and stone and he stands alone.

She fears that after a lifetime at his side he will find she gave no part of herself for him to keep.




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