A/N: There are three explanations for why I have not posted on this story (the last chapter, no less!) for about five years.

a) A huge green gorrilla stole my computer and I didn't get it back until today.

b) I belong to a cult which does not allow LOTR fanfiction in the months of April and May.

c) I completely, totally, absolutely forgot about this story.

Yes, it's c). I'M SORRY! I REPENT IN SACK-CLOTH AND ASHES, OKAY? But honestly, be grateful to a few specific reviewers who reminded me I hadn't posted all of this story. If not for them, well, would you ever have found out the end? It's doubtful at best.

Anyway, I've also had a very hectic two weeks, so when I finally DID remember this, I couldn't find time to post until today. But prom is over, my play is over, and school ends next week, so hopefully I'll have more time to write and post (uhahaha...) in the summer. Enjoy the last chapter, and there is an epilogue. So review (please?) and I'll post the epilogue.


Chapter Twelve: Giving It All Up

"Be still, and know that I am God;

I will be exalted among the

nations,

I will be exalted in the earth."

-Psalms 46:10

Weeping, I cradled his limp body in my arms. He was not dead, I could see that, but I was not sure how badly he was hurt. The leaves had drifted down among him, doubtless loosened by his fall.

My head ached. My body ached. My heart ached. The world had become hell to me, and I had nowhere to turn. What had I done to deserve this? The bitter wind blowing over us somehow made its way to my heart and pierced the careful wall I had built over the past year, tearing down brick after brick. My wife was dead. My brother was dead. My father was dead. My mother was dead. My son was dying...the son I had estranged until I had adopted my father's ways. My friends did not come to visit anymore, for when they did I could not stand them. The list seemed to go on and on, stretching to infinity.

It was all my fault. This child, lying in my arms...what happened to him was all my fault. I looked down at his face and saw the small bruise on his right cheek...and bitter sobs broke out of my throat, hurling themselves into the wind to be lost to me forever. Like everything else.

I leaned my head back until I could see the gray, cold sky through the leaves overhead and called, "What more do you want of me!" My voice had started through my throat as a yell, but by the time it reached the air it was only a defeated whisper. A cracked and broken thing, like the cracked and broken man it came from. Again, I called, "What more do you want of me!"

Your trust...

Where had that voice come from? I looked around wildly, searching the bushes and trees for the speaker who had uttered those words.

"Who are you?" I asked.

You know...

"Where are you!" I shrieked, clutching Feomir to myself. My mind was half hysterical, and I imagined a black shape behind every rock and fern. There was absolute silence in the woods, besides the beating of my heart. It was so loud I was sure every person within ten miles would hear it and come to find me. But there was no one there. No one approached me. The voice had come from somewhere else. I closed my eyes, wishing it would all just go away; I could not take it anymore! Peace...that was what I wanted. Could I not have just a moments peace?

Not unless you follow the truth...

That voice again! I opened my eyes, and as I did so, I realized where it was coming from: deep inside of my heart.

I recoiled from the thought and said softly, "Who-who are you?"

I am the thirst every man has in their heart. I am the part of you that knows there is something greater than this...torture.

"What do you want?" I asked, my breath growing harsher with every moment.

Trust. You must learn to trust in Him, and not in yourself. Only then will you find true freedom.

"No!" I shouted. I knew who he meant, and there was nothing there for me. Eru had forsaken ME and thrown all of these trials on me. Why should I trust in the one who had given me over to torture and grief; depression and anger? NO!

"Where were you when I laid the

earth's foundation?

Tell me, if you understand.

Who marked off its dimensions?

Surely you know!

Who stretched a measuring line

across it?

On what were its footings set,

or who laid its cornerstone---

while the morning stars sang

together?

and all the angels shouted for

joy?" (1)

I looked up to the heavens in confusion as the words sprang into my mind, wondering where they came from. The surrounding objects seemed to dim in my eyes as words sprang into my heart: Who are you to question Eru?

I stopped my ears, throwing myself to the ground. Those words...I had to get them out of my head! But with every pounding breath I took they hammered over and over: Who are you to question Eru?

Did He really have a purpose for all of this? Could He have a purpose? My uncle's words also came back to me then: "The only way I have been able to keep from becoming bitter is by placing my trust in Eru. I pray that you will do the same." But how could I trust in Him, for wasn't it He who had cast all these afflictions on me?

"Would you discredit my justice?

Would you condemn me to justify

yourself?" (2)

The words seemed to drill into me until I could not breathe, and I shook my head fiercely. I am too small! I cannot understand these things that are too great for me to comprehend!

Then give them up. Place your trust in Eru, and he will deliver you.

For a minute I hovered, uncertain, on the brink of a chasm. I had the immense feeling that I was about to plunge headlong downwards, but what I was plunging into, I knew not. And then I made up my mind. I could never begin to understand the ways of Eru. But I also could not take anymore of this torture. If it really was true that by placing my trust in Eru--who was bigger than anything I could comprehend--I had very little choice. And as the wind blew chillingly in my face, I gave my burdens up to Eru and stepped off the ledge of the cliff.

Immediately peace flooded me, and the weight that had been pressing down on my shoulders for a year was gone. I searched for that spot in my heart that had been aching fiercely ever since Éowyn had died, but it was not there. My eyes filled with tears, but this time I wept for joy, not bitterness. What I had jumped into---it was a peace that transcends all understanding, and it covered my aching soul as balm covers a wound.

As I slowly became aware of where I was, I realized I was lying face-down in the mud, and I raised myself up with a little shudder of weariness. Now that my soul was not crying out to be freed, my full tiredness fell on me and for a minute I thought I was going to pass out. But then I heard a small voice behind me...

"Father?"

I turned in record time, my face no doubt displaying the joy I felt upon seeing my son with his eyes open. He seemed to be wondering where he was and how he had gotten there, and then memory flooded his big eyes and he shuddered. "F-father! What are you doing here?" he stuttered, fear showing on his face. Sobs rose in my chest but I controlled them until they were just silent tears streaming down my face. I reached for Feomir and pulled him against myself. He was so thin it seemed like I could feel every bone in his body. I could sense his shock, but I ignored it, instead saying through my tears, "I'm so sorry, Feomir! I have sinned, oh I have sinned! Please forgive me, my child."

Feomir made a small noise like a choke, and when I looked at his face it was wide with wonder. "I-I..." he trailed off and shook his head. "For what?"

I hugged him again, kissing his hair over and over again until I suppose the poor boy was in danger of being suffocated. Finally, my passion abated a little, and I pulled back again. Looking him directly in the eye, I said gently, "Feomir, I have wronged you in this past year. It was not your fault that your mother died, and I was wrong to use it against you. Will you forgive me, Feomir?"

He hesitated for a minute, looking up at me with big, disbelieving eyes. I could see all his emotions passing so clearly through his large, unblinking eyes, and it suddenly struck me that, had I not been forced to form a mask for my emotions, I would do the same thing. I longed desperately to keep him, my son, from that fate. That I could ever empathize my father was so beyond belief, and on impulse, I reached out tentatively. What would have happened to me if he had not reached back, I do not know, and I do not wish to know. The important thing is that he reached out, and with that gesture, I saw that he forgave me.

The words that he said to me and that I said to him I will leave unwritten, for some things are private and do better to remain so. But I will say that there was perhaps no sweeter day throughout all of my life.

In time, I noticed that he was not using his left leg, and I, of course, remembered his fall. Upon inspecting it, I found that it was broken. Feomir did not cry as I tested how far he could bend it, but his eyes looked up at me patiently, waiting until I pronounced judgment upon it. "It is broken," I finally said. "But it will heal, and you will be good as new in a few months." Then, brushing his hair behind his ear, I said, "We are lucky it was nothing more serious."

As I lifted my son up and began walking out of the woods to my waiting horse, he asked me suddenly, "Father? What did Grandfather do to you?"

I bit my lip, sighing inwardly. "Feomir, there are some things that you do not need to know...yet. But ask me again when you are twelve and I promise I will tell you."

He nodded wearily, settling his head against my shoulder. As I lifted him up onto the horse and settled myself behind him, I told him, "Feomir? There is a God, and He takes care of us."

Feomir nodded. "I know. I have been praying that you would see too."

I did not answer him, but urged Silivren into a swift trot to get us home as quickly as possible. Only when I got in sight of the walls of my home did I realize I would have to reconcile to all of the rest of my family and friends, and I realized I was not ready for it.

"Feomir?" I asked, stopping the horse. Fear crept into my voice and for a minute, curled it's claws around my heart. "Do you truly forgive me? Can you? Will you? And will...will Elboron and Morwen?"

Feomir turned to look up into my face. I do not think I have ever seen such a happy face since that moment. "Do you love me?" he simply asked.

"Yes," I said. No large words were needed; just simple truth. And I meant it, with all of my heart.

"Then there is nothing to fear," my son whispered.

At that moment, I realized that all he had wanted was my love. All he had striven after was my love, my approval. And all I had striven after with my own father was his love and approval. "Feomir," I said, "you are the best son I could wish for. I am sorry."

His eyes filled with tears, and he laid his head against my chest. "Thank you, Father."

I urged the horse into a walk and we passed through the gate. Servants, previously scuttling here and there, stopped dead in their tracks and stared at us. Among them I saw Quellerûth, smiling broadly and holding a bucket in one hand. For a moment there was dead silence, and then hushed murmurs spread as quickly as wild-fire around the courtyard. I handed the reigns to one stable boy and lifted Feomir down from the horse, cradling him against my chest as I walked toward the door.

Just as I reached it, it swung open and Beregond stormed out, a determined look on his face. As soon as he laid eyes on me he stopped, disbelief washing over his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but it merely stayed there in a hanging position as I brushed past him and carried Feomir into the house.

It was not long until my youngest son was sleeping peacefully. A healer had seen to his leg and set the bone, and he was under the influence of pain relieving drugs when I kissed him softly on the cheek and turned to leave the room. At the door, I turned and looked back on my son. "Thank you," I whispered to the silence. "Thank you for saving me and sparing him."

Then I shut the door gently and went out.

In the hallway, I found Beregond leaning against the wall with a look of utter shock on his face. "My lord?" he asked doubtfully, standing up straight. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but I shook my head.

"No, Beregond, please. Address me by my name."

He laid a hand heavily on my shoulder. "Faramir," he murmured, "what happened? Out there...in the woods." He jerked his head toward the window without taking his eyes off me.

I lowered my head, sighing inaudibly. "I am not sure," I said gently. "It is a mystery, really. But I can tell you that never again will I forsake my God. I was a fool to doubt him in my heart, and I ruined the lives of those around me by doing so."

"No," Beregond said, and to my surprise, I found him to be smiling when I looked up. "You have not ruined us. I admit I was a little scared for you..." his smile fell and he searched my face. "Faramir, you are too strong. You are not your father, and you never will be."

I nodded slowly, and then Beregond embraced me, clasping my hand in a warm shake. "I would follow you to the end, my Captain," he whispered as we drew apart.

Before I had a chance to say thank you to my friend I heard a noise behind me and I turned to find Elboron and Morwen standing in the hallway. Morwen clutched a doll, her eyes as wide as saucers, and Elboron bore the look of one who wishes to cry but does not. Immediately I dropped to my knees and opened my arms.

"I'm so sorry," I said uncertainly. "Can you ever forgive me for what I have done?"

Morwen glanced at her big brother, checking his reaction. I cannot describe the look in his eyes, for my own eyes were filling with tears as I realized my children had become afraid of me. How can I win their trust back? I asked myself.

"Is---is Feomir alright?" Elboron asked finally.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. "He needs rest and quiet, but he will be fine."

Suddenly, Morwen flung herself at me, sobbing. "Father!" she cried, "I love you so much!"

I clutched my baby girl to me, running my hands through her hair and patting her on the back. "I love you too," I whispered gently. "Oh, so much." And as I bowed my head over hers, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Do you love him, Father?" Elboron asked, so quietly I had difficulty hearing him. I lifted my eyes to his face, letting them tell him the truth.

"Yes," I answered for the second time that day. He visibly relaxed. I do not think it ever crossed his mind to disbelieve me, for though I meant what I said with every particle of myself, I could easily have told a lie. But perhaps my voice was too sincere; perhaps I had not done so much damage yet that he did not trust my word. In any case, he too joined my hug, and our tears mingled together for not the first nor last time.

That night, I stood at my window and looked out at the moon, hanging over the fields in a bright orb. Thoughts flitted through my head, ranging from my son's well-being to the forgiveness and joy I had found that day. My thoughts dwelled on Éowyn quite a bit too, and I thought more than once, I will try my best, sweetheart. Without you it will be hard, but I will try. And I will not be alone, now. I will have an ally better and more good and powerful than anyone or anything else.

As I was just about to retire I heard a gentle knock on my door, and when I opened it I found Sheena standing there. She was dressed in a soft, warm dressing gown, and her hair fell braided down her back. Her face had a tranquil air. "May I come in?" she whispered. I nodded, opening the door wide for her.

As she sat in a chair, she said quietly, "I came to say I'm sorry for my conduct earlier today. It was wrong...please forgive me."

I laughed softly. "There have been so many forgivenesses today I do not think I can keep track of them. But yes, I do forgive you. And I beg your pardon too. If I did anything to encourage such affection..."

She shook her head with a queer smile. "No, my lord. You are not to blame at all."

Silence fell between us, and I watched the candles flicker and shake on the table. Finally, she stood. "I must go now," she said. I nodded and opened the door for her.

As she was leaving, she suddenly turned and looked at me. "I should like..." she trailed off and bit her lip.

"Go on," I encouraged, smiling down at her.

She looked me in the eye, summoning up her courage. "I should like to be your friend, my lord. If you would do me that honor, I would be so pleased. I can help you. And---I should so like to be like a mother to the children."

I nodded slowly. "I would enjoy your friendship very much, Sheena. And please, call me Faramir."

As she left, I again stopped her. "Is there not some other man you have your eye on? You should marry and be happy, Sheena," I said.

She gave me that queer smile again and shook her head. "I am perfectly content." We looked at each other for another minute, and then she took my hand. "The children love you," she whispered. "They would never wish for another father." Then she left, leaving a warmth in the room that had not been there before.

I walked back over to the window and stared back out, pondering anew. And as I looked at the beautiful moon, which the land I lived in was named after, my thoughts ran thus: Eru, thank you for the life of my son, my precious Feomir. With your love and blessing, I was reconciled with him, and had a second chance. Only through Your mercy, oh Eru. I could never do anything to deserve that.

I may never know why the things that happened in my life happened, but now I know that there is a purpose to them. And I look forward to the day when we will meet face to face and those reasons will be explained to me.

Éowyn, I am coming to you. Boromir, mother, father...wait for me. But first I must fulfill my life here on earth.

And I shall.

The End

(1) Job 38:4-7

(2) Job 40:8

A/N: Well, that about tops it off. A few loose ends to tie up in the epilogue, but did you like it? This chapter was pretty long. Did it end well? I hope so. I do so hate it when a good story ends badly. Let me know!