Okay people, here is the last chapter before the final epilogue. Surprisingly, I really struggled to write them (or rewrite them) and I think this is most definitely NOT my best writing… But I guess that is up to you to be the judge… I forgot to mention in the last chapter about the flower-thingie that Faramir had given to Ari… You can check back on chapter 2 to find the origins of the yellow flower… I thought it was a cute touch really! Perfect way to end what they had… (sighs longingly)

Thank you for the many reviews… I will stop my lego-mashing, I will not mess with Celebrian and Elrond (reluctantly! I simply can't resist those Elven ears…) and I agree that 10th walker stories are very lame! At one point I was thinking of writing something of the sorts but bleh! It gave me heebie-jeebies… Thank you D.O.M.S. for saying that Ari is NOT a Mary-Sue, I tried to make her as real an un-perfect as I could… As I have said many times before, I simply wanted to write one (normal-everyday like) person's POV and experience during something so horrible as a war and something so unusual and romantic as having a fling with a most desirable dude…

Anywho, on with this lovely chappie… I tried my best so no flames or rotten tomatoes – please!

Enjoy!

Chapter 36

May 1st

He disappeared into the Tower and it would be long before we ever spoke to each other. My heart was beating fast and it cringed every time I stared at the flower. He remembered! As I was about to place the chain back, a small piece of paper fell from the box. Curiously, I picked it up and unfolded the paper, noticing that there was something written. It was a poem and I did not have to guess who the author was.

We're all of us stars

We're fading away

Just try not to worry

You'll see us some day

Just take what you need

And be on your way

And stop crying your heart out

Faramir...

The smile I held would not disappear and as I stood there, it felt as though nothing could take away this moment.

Still standing near the Seat, instead of looking eastwards I turned to look at the Courtyard glittering in the afternoon sun. Looking at the skies, I took a deep breath and clenched my fists, a serene sensation enveloping me.

Lightened and confident, I walked back towards the Courtyard, searching for the one person that could make this day further blissful.

All had gone so terribly wrong between us, many words had been left unsaid and unlike with Faramir, it bothered me, rather terribly, that our friendship may have ended because of me and my unwillingness to accept the truth.

Despite my past hatred of him, he had not mentioned it once. Since our renewed friendship, he had only been a gentleman, trying to brighten my day with his unusual humour and that arrogance that I had become fond of (without really understanding why).

I suddenly stopped and hesitated. After the many cruel things I had hurled at him, after refusing his pursuit, his intentions, why would he desire to listen to me once more? Ridding my head of this uncertainty, I decided this was most likely my one and only chance and I simply had to accept the risks.

Reaching the Fountain, I finally found Berethor, nearby, discussing animatedly amongst a group of high lords. I gulped and flinched, remarking that the lords he was surrounded by were part of the elite: wealthy and acquainted with the former Steward. This will not make things easier, I groaned inertly.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to cough politely. The little circle opened itself and all eyes fell on me, quite curious. Smiling nervously, I bowed. "My lords, my ladies."

"You are one of the mistresses of the Kitchens, are you not?" An elderly lady clad in a dark blue dress made of the richest fabrics asked, her critical eyes studying me, bearing little kindness.

"Is it time for the feast to begin?" A man asked eagerly, standing next to the lady, probably her husband.

I shook my head, apologetically. "No, not yet, my lord." Breathe in and stay calm.

"Ariniel?" Berethor looked surprised, his dark brown eyes widening. He passed a hand through his hair and went next to the lady. Looking closely, I noticed the resemblance. Oh my, they were his parents! Berethor was as tall as his father and had his mother's eyes. Both father and son shared that proud and somewhat arrogant expression I had grown to accept though now, I knew it was only a mask.

My cheeks began to burn and I began to find of a reason to excuse myself. A fool yet again. I should have waited for a more appropriate moment where there would be little to worry about! What would their parents think of a simple mistress displaying an interest in their only, wealthy son? I began to fear the worst and only wished to leave from this awkward moment.

"Do you know her, Berethor?" the lady- her mother, asked suspiciously, her cold gaze studying me.

Berethor smiled timidly and came to my side. "Yes, we know each other through an acquaintance. She is... I mean, she was a Healer until recently." He said with more assertiveness. "She, my lord and ladies, is one of the persons responsible in our Steward's recovery."

Immediately, the other lords talked animatedly about Faramir in between praising me for my courageous actions. I sighed in relief as I saw his mother's expression change, managing to smile curtly.

Berethor looked at me, puzzled. "May I have a word?" I whispered. Without any hesitation, he excused himself and led me out of their ranting.

"Thank you for rescuing me. Their sole interest today has been reminiscing about their younger days in the army." He said before chuckling.

We slowed our pace. "So those were your parents?" I asked, noticing a dwarf waving his hands up and down, making guttural voices to a pair of identical elves, apparently telling a story while they stood there laughing, whether at him or the story, I could not know.

"You must forgive my Lady Mother if she has made you uncomfortable." He said, apologetically.

"She can be quite mistrustful of unfamiliar persons." We stopped near the railing and Berethor looked at me. "I saw you with the Steward..." He began, not hiding his disappointment.

"Yes you did." I replied uneasily, sensing this was not going as I wished.

Nodding his head, Berethor's smile disappeared, his expression now serious. "Whatever you have said to one another, I have no desire to hear it." He declared firmly.

Avoiding his eyes, I did not let his attitude deter me from making my point. "I do not know how to say this…" I paused, trying to find the right words. "I guess, first, I must apologize to you for all that I have put you through these last weeks. The only thing I can say to you now is how I regret all the ill that has befallen upon us. You mean so much and it finally took me all this time to realize how right you were and how… how irrational I have been for… well for many years..." I paused to catch my breath.

Daring to look up and meet his eyes, my cheeks reddened. He watched me and I smiled sheepishly as a warm sensation formed in my stomach, spreading throughout my body. Was this what it felt like when you wanted to be with someone? Was this desire? My mouth dry as sand, I took a deep breath and continued, afraid that once I stopped, he would ultimately refuse me and go his way.

"Berethor, our friendship, what we have had, what we shared together, it is dear to me and I do not wish for the past to haunt either one of us…" Staring in his dark eyes, fearfully, longingly: the desire within increasing… "I just wanted to let you know…" I whispered huskily, captivated by his eyes, his mouth, his lips…

Taking a deep breath to cool down, I turned away and looked down at the city below, sighing. Faintly, cries of children playing in the streets reached my ears. My hand was gripped by his and without letting go, I squeezed it gently. When I faced him again, his longing gaze made me smile and blush like a young maiden.

"I regret saying those awful words during my outburst, you did not deserve that." I finally said. "I truly apologize."

"I should not have been so bold." Berethor finally admitted. "I knew I had made a mistake when I invited you and Aryon to my home when you had pushed me away as you have." He pursed his lips and sighed. "Still…My feelings blinded me with poor judgment."

I raised an eyebrow and smiled hopefully. "Feelings?"

He grew nervous and I felt the clamminess in his hands. "Yes... well... you know... When we reacquainted with one another upon my arrival in the House… It was obvious that you have grown…beautifully if I might say so… and well…I…" Without a word, I put my finger on his lips and smiled.

"You need not say it." I whispered. "Somehow, I knew… That night when you had joined me in the Gardens… I pushed you away before you could even utter the words." I took a step closer. "I am yours, if you will still have me…"

Berethor beamed and had we not been alone, I swore he would lift me in the air. Without any hesitation, without any doubts, our bodies fell into one another, as though they needed eachother more than we realized. Sighing, I leaned on his chest; a little smile on the corner on my lips as I listened to his heart racing, not so bold right now, is he?

"Do you wish for us to…?" He asked, passing his hand through my hair.

I lifted my head and looked at him. "Berethor." I exclaimed, lifting my arms in the air. "I do not know what it is that I wish or want but what I do know right now is that you are the only thing that matters to me…Can we not enjoy this moment?"

He nodded and placed a kiss on my forehead. "Who am I to deny the lady's request? If she is loath to see me from her sight, will she agree to dine with me at the feast?"

"The pleasure will be mine!" I sighed.

We stood locked into another's arms and remained silent as we looked over the City and the lands beyond.

"There you are Ariniel!" An annoyed voice came from behind. "You have no idea-" I turned around and saw Mirima standing with her mouth and eyes wide opened, emitting a faint squeak. "What has happened, whence?" She uttered, out of breath

Berethor and I chuckled and we looked around, receiving friendly nods from elves and men. From afar I saw his mother who wore and amused expression on her face.

"Ariniel, are you, is he?" Mirima pointed at both of us, her mouth still wide open.

Although I had not said to anyone about what had happened between me and Berethor, Mirima had thought it odd that he had offered my brother and I quarters in his home. Mirima, who was fully aware of whom Berethor was, found it equally odd that I constantly refused to give her details about him.

"No, Mi', we've not decided anything yet..." I answered, beaming.

Berethor bowed to Mirima. "Good day lady, am I to guess that you are Ariniel's friend?" Mirima blushed and bowed politely.

"Yes." I exclaimed enthusiastically. "Her name is Mirima. She left me on my own to find the Elf Prince whom she thought would make a good husband... How did it go?" I asked.

Immediately, Mirima dropped her shoulders. "Not so go good." She sniffed. "He was very flattered but politely told me that he would not be staying in Minas Tirith for long as he is to journey far with his dwarf friend..." She looked slightly hurt. I gently grabbed her shoulder and peered into her eyes.

"You'll find someone yet, Mi'. With the war now over, I am quite certain the guardsmen would like nothing better than to find a good woman to bare their children and live merrily." I said trying to enlighten her.

I saw a small twinkle in Mirima's blue eyes and she took a deep breath, smiling radiantly. "Yes, you're probably right! Maybe tonight at the feast or when the dance begins, yes..." She lifted her head proudly. "I will find a nice rich lord or a high commander..." She blushed as she glanced at Berethor who muffled his laughter. "Well, maybe not the richest lord..."

We began to talk animatedly about the Coronation, the Elves and the preparations we had done for the Feast that would start soon when Aryon appeared, still wearing his fine polished armour with a grin on his face.

"There you are Ari - and Berethor?" He said, shocked as he noticed our hands locked in one another. He stopped halfway, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I expected the King's wedding and the Steward's but my own sister's?"

I smiled embarrassed and Berethor was scratching his beard. Aryon stopped in front of us and his face grew serious as he examined his friend up and down. Berethor and I frowned, unsure what to make this reaction… Should he be getting ready to flee the City? Finally, Aryon wrapped his hands around his friend and pulled him into a fierce embrace. "I'm happy that I can now call you my brother, Berethor." He said before letting his friend go, ruffling a hand in his hair.

Mirima and I laughed wholeheartedly before we each pulled Aryon and Berethor from one another. We talked and laughed together until it was time for the feast to begin. My heart lightened as I now found myself utterly complete. When once I had felt utterly alone and almost an orphan, I looked around and found myself surrounded by the most sincere people, a surrogate family of sorts. For the next hour or so I could not stop smiling and whenever I looked at Berethor, my heart leaped instantly.

Aryon and Mirima, who barely knew one another, had found a tone while discussing of many things and I wondered (or hoped?) whether a common future lay ahead for them…

Once the sun began to set, the guests began to walk towards the Great Hall. Mirima and Aryon walked ahead of us as Berethor and I trailed behind, wanting to spend some time alone.

"I only thought this would be a dream…" I said, looking up at the Tower and the Fountain, still amazed that it had survived for so many centuries, even a war.

"Then you should open your eyes and realize how all of this is very true." He gently caressed my cheek and I looked down, the warm uneasy feeling returning in my stomach. Slowly, he lifted my chin and when our eyes finally met, I surrendered to the sensation and let myself wrap in this desire that flowed in both our bodies and our heart.

Smiling so hard that my jaw began to ache, I leaned forward, determined, closed my eyes and planted my lips over his, an explosion of desire, longing and relief combining into one passionate embrace. As his arms wrapped around me, a new world opened itself, inviting me to be part of.

Originally, I was meant to write more and I did it the first time but I thought it was quite futile and taking away the tender moment-reunion between Ari and Ber… so I took it away… I will tell you more about the idea in the next and LAST chapter!

Faramir's poem is from an Oasis song – Stop crying your heart out. I remember hearing it many years ago and thought this was Ariniel's song.

Anywho, please read and review!