A few of you asked for it, so here it is! Since I had to write it on the fly, it took me a bit longer. I hope it doesn't feel out of place.
I will have a tiny "dictionary" at the end, so don't worry as you read.
Enjoy the epilogue!
Epilogue - Being
'Mama!'
Tiny feet slap against the wooden floor.
She turns around, belly large, to scoop the child into her embrace.
'Did you have a marvelous time with Papa?'
'Oh yes, we played all day long. And we saw animals, Mama! We saw rabbits and deers and squirrels and birds, lots of birds, and they were singin'!'
'And did you bring any home?' Her eyes move to me as I hold up supper for her to see. She winks.
'Yes, Papa got a big one, Mama, huge!' Little arms are thrown into the air to measure.
'I see! Your papa is very good, isn't he.'
'Yes and I helped him, Mama.'
'Of course you did, and I am so proud of you, my little foal. Go wash now.' She returns the child to the ground and walks closer to me. I rest the carcass on the table and dust off my hands.
'How are you, darling?'
'I am well, Faramir. We are.' She rests a hand on her protruding middle.
'I am happy to hear it.' I kiss her soft mouth and stroke her cheek. Her blonde hair is braided down her back, looking like one long rope. She looks so different from when I first saw her but no less beautiful. I was about to tell her, but she spoke first.
'Did Lauturë behave herself?'
'She was very curious and not so stealthy.' I chuckle, remembering my daughter crying out in surprise when she caught sight of the first squirrel.
'I am afraid she inherited that trait from me.' Eowyn sits down in the nearest chair. She must be tired.
'Has the babe been giving you any troubles?' I sit opposite her.
'A few kicks here and there. This one feels heavier than Lauturë did.'
'You must be exhausted.'
'I am perfectly able to manage, Faramir.'
I smile at the memory of multiple rows we had during her first pregnancy. I always wanted to help; she always wanted to be independent.
'I know, dear. I haven't forgotten.'
She smiles back at me, playfully.
'Mama? I am back!'
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'Come on, now. Sing it to me again.'
He sighs heavily.
'Eorl the Young was the son of Leod,
Then came Brego the Builder,
Whose son Aldor was quite old.
Then comes Frea, Freawine, and Goldwine,
Deor, Gram, and Helm Hammerhand.
Frealaf was the son of Hilde,
Then came Brytta Leofa,
Whose son Walda was quite strong.
Then comes Folca, Folcwine, Fengel,
Thengel, and Theoden Ednew.'
'See, now you got it.'
'I do not hear Elfwine having to recount the Kings of Old.'
'Oh my son, you should have seen the dozens of times I had him recite it for me. You were only a babe when he was your age. All of your siblings have had to memorize the song.'
'Then why have I not heard them singing it?'
'We only sing it on very special occasions, Eobrim.'
'Oh.'
'You will understand as you grow older.'
At that moment, two girls burst into the room.
'Faeder! Please don't give us away!' My eldest daughter whispers as she runs past.
I lay my head in my right hand, trying not to smirk.
'Mierwyn, Blismead, where are you-' But they had already scrambled out the room.
Eobrim gives me a look of concern. I chuckle and clap him on the shoulder as a tall, dark-haired boy runs through the open doorway.
Upon seeing the occupants of the room, he slows to a stride.
'Hello, Faeder.'
'What brings you here, Elfwine?' I try to look mildly concerned.
'Nothing, I-' The almost-man looks to his younger brother- who is gesturing with his head.
'They came through here, did they not?'
'Who?' Again I try to play, but I know I have been found out.
Elfwine smirks, nods to Eobrim in appreciation, and bows his head to me before rushing after the girls. I turn back to my youngest.
'How could you?'
Eobrim looks almost giddy.
'We men must stick together, Faeder.'
'Indeed we must, young man. Else the women will take over!'
As though on cue, a beautiful woman with big, black ringlets enters the room.
'Now, would that be so bad?'
'Your majesty.' I stand and bow to my queen.
'Quite right. And you would do well to remember it.' She has the most dazzling smile.
'Modor, the girls are hiding from Elfwine!'
'Not for long. I am afraid I accidentally revealed their hiding place.'
I slap a hand to my heart in shock.
'Ah! Alas, you were correct, my lad. See how the woman turns on her own kind!'
Eobrim laughs merrily and Loth shoots me daggers. I raise my hands in surrender to indicate my jest.
A cry of victory rings from outside and Lothiriel groans.
As she walks out to meet her fate, I sigh and wonder to myself: how did I get so lucky?
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Quenya:
Lauturë (Golden strength), Elboron (Lasting star)
Rohirric (Old English):
Elfwine (Elf-friend), Mierwyn (Female-horse maiden), Blismead (Joyful meadow), Eobrim (Water-horse)
Faeder (Father), Modor (Mother)
God bless you, my friends.
-Anarwyn
