~Epilogue~

Hope

If You Ask Me, I Will Say It…
You Make Me Smile; It's Contagious.
And In Your Eyes, I Can See It.
'Cause Your Heart
Is The Greatest.

And With The Road Ahead
This Is The Beginning
Of This Love Story.

~Love Story, by Nadia Ali

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

"You gave your all for Middle Earth, while guiding Hope and giving him Faith," Manwë warmly explained because it had become clear to him that I was unsure, nervous, about being returned to Middle Earth.

"My friends and family," I whispered the words, before closing my eyes and then opening them again, to stare imploringly at the Angel, the God, the Vala. "Will I see everyone again?"

The Vala only smiled at me. "You will make a wonderful Queen."

The War was over.

Aragorn had defeated the Mouth of Sauron, and Frodo and Sam had tossed the One Ring into the volcanic depths of Mordor. Sauron was vanquished. The Fellowship, the Riders, and all of Middle Earth won. We were at peace.

My Twin, Seth, stayed in Rohan and married Eowyn after courting her for two years. They ruled proudly from Edoras under the tutelage of the previous King, Théoden. He had survived because I banished had Death with help from Pippin, and Eowyn, aided by Seth and Merry, had killed the Witch King, who prowled the battlefields with orders from both Saruman and Melkor. Seth and Eowyn were expecting their first child, to be named Séan, and the Heir to the Throne of Rohan.

My Guardian, and the former Captain of Gondor, Boromir, returned to become the Steward of Gondor. He returned from the battlefields of Osgiliath with a wounded Faramir, who survived with his help. Boromir met and married the widowed mother of Ren – the former loved him for his chivalry and big heart; the latter, though suspicious at first, loved him for his affection and his love of horses. In his spare time, Boromir decided to follow in the steps of his Rohirrim mother, Breánna, and breed horses. Ren became a constant fixture in his stables.

His little brother, Faramir, was officially named the Captain of Gondor. He fulfilled all of his duties while also paying frequent visits to the Castle Library. He, too, married. Faramir met his wife, the librarian, at the healing tents after being rescued from Denethor by Pippin, Gandalf, and myself. She had been reading to the younger patients, and Faramir became instantly enamored with her sweet personality, her long brown hair, and her gentle honey eyes. They married six months later.

Three children, two to Boromir and another to Faramir, entered the world in the following years – named Truamir, Daramir, and Fawlýn.

The Twins, Truamir and Daramir, were now six and had been affectionately nicknamed Truth and Dare for their tendency to get into trouble and craftily tell half-truths to get out of it. They alternated between following Boromir and Ren, who was now nineteen, around the stables and helping Gwen around her newly opened bakery. Truth preferred baking and often snuck into the Castle, much like his older stepbrother, Ren. His Twin, Dare, however, spent most of his time in the stables and fields. As my cravings worsened, I spent plenty of time in the kitchens, where I would often catch Ren and Truth. Likewise, Aragorn caught Dare trying to hijack Apollo, the son of Orion, and brought him, kicking and screaming, back to his exasperated father.

Little Fawn – or rather, Fawlýn – was now nine and frequented the Castle Library with her parents, Faramir and Ellwen, spending hours reading and playing make believe. She copied her father and tried her hand at writing important scrolls, which often made their way into his desk and, with the help of the mischievous Princess, the desk of the greatly amused King of Gondor. To this day, Aragorn still has her first letter to him, titled Dear Mister King.

Immediately after the War, Legolas and Eva returned to Mirkwood, though not for long. Legolas returned to serve as an ambassador of the Elvish Lands and advisor to King Ellesar, whereas Eva began to teach the healers several secrets of healing known only to Elves. While Legolas spent most of his time traveling back and forth between his homeland and Gondor, Eva remained to keep an eye on my growing stomach and the progress of her three apprentice healers.

Morwen was one such healer. She spent much of her time in the Healing Hall, although plenty of her time was also divided between her two equally busy children, who had taken up residence in the Castle of Gondor. Now a strong and healthy Man, Ѐothain apprenticed with both Boromir and Faramir to learn the ways of the sword. He, at only twenty two, was one of the youngest of the Gondorian Guards, all of whom enjoyed teasing the Rohirrim. Sweet Freda tended to my needs and, at eighteen, was a very pretty maiden with long blonde hair and bright green eyes. She was more a younger sister than maid and, at the moment, Freda and I were planning her wedding to Ren, who met the sweet maid and fallen in love with her at first sight.

Gimli had written home, to Erebor, and then traveled with Legolas and Eva to their homeland. I went with them their first trip home, and two months after my wedding to Aragorn, to see where Seth and I might have been raised, and to meet the Elf I could call Grandfather, King Thranduil. Gimli and I traveled back and, two days after reaching Gondor, I went into labor. The Dwarf decided to stay, taking that as a sign from the Valar. He was not interested in leaving his makeshift family just yet.

Besides, I had heard from Freda and the maids that a stubborn Woman at the smithy had caught his attention. She was a strong girl and could drink him under the table! A match made in Heaven, I frequently teased him. Gimli had started courting her, his One, two years ago.

The Hobbits, of course, returned to the Shire. Sam and I settled the differences between us and, inspired by the fact that the small family I had created, sought to do the same. After helping to take back the Shire from vagabonds, Sam settled down with his wife, Rosie, and had thirteen children with her, naming them mostly after his friends and companions from the War. And Ruby, his youngest daughter, frequently exchanged letters with Fawn. She aspired to start a public library in the Shire. Wishing to help, Truth and Dare thoughtfully tried sending the Hobbit books from the Castle Library. Boromir nearly skinned them alive.

Although the two returned home with the rest, Merry and Pippin, always the adventurous ones, decided to start their very own inn and tavern. They called it the Hobbits' Hangout, which Seth helped to name and christen by visiting and drinking himself silly shortly before his coronation to become that King of Rohan. In return, Merry and Pippin came and toasted him. Merry then stayed in Rohan for several months to visit with Eowyn, and Pippin traveled to Gondor to visit with my growing family. They had visited again just last year.

Sweet Frodo stayed with us a year. He then returned to the Shire, before joining Gandalf. The two traveled together for another two years, occasionally stopping by to spend time in Gondor and visit with the youngest additions to our numbers. Frodo seemed lighter after playing with the mischievous band of children, but the Hobbit still retreated into himself.

Only Gandalf seemed to know the true depths of his pain. The Istari, who had been incredibly pleased to hear that I, strangely, still had the ability to control fire, the element that I had become most familiar with during the War, taught me enough to tame the willful element. Frodo often observed these lessons with weary eyes. He and the Istari eventually began spending most of their time in the Castle Library, speaking in low tones. It was not until the following year, though, that the two left for the Undying Lands.

And Aragorn and I?

Well…

A little girl counted by the tree under which I rested peacefully, my eyes closed, face serene, and hair blowing gently in the summer wind. She finished counting to twenty and started searching for her hiding playmate, darting by the flower beds and glancing behind this bush and that tree. My smile brightened because I could hear the leaves beside me rustling, and I peeked through the foliage to find two shining gray eyes. My husband, seeing my warm smile, winked at me.

"ROAR!" Aragorn growled playfully, leaping out from behind the tall tree and bending down to capture the little girl that had scampered by at long last. She squealed, begging him to put her down. He tossed her up and then put her back down, letting her run over and into my arms. Giggles filled the air.

"Mommy, Mommy! Save me," She gasped while burying her pretty little face in my neck. I smiled down at her, gently tucking her blonde hair behind her ears and kissing her forehead.

"Silly Faith, Daddy is much too strong for me," I teased her and pointed to her father, who had crouched down to grin into her beautiful silver irises with his own. She, like him, had tanned skin and loved fencing. She, like me, was a spitfire that liked to read, sing, and ride horses. "You'll have to save yourself!"

Gasping, Estella Faith, fondly called Faith, leaned further into my arms. She was getting bigger, much bigger than the small baby girl I had given birth to ten years ago. My daughter put her face next to mine and whispered, "How, Mommy? I am a girl, and little, too!"

"With these…" I pointed to her head and then chest, finger indicating her mind and her heart, her two greatest weapons. My heart warmed, and smile softened, at the glow of the beautiful spirit within her bright eyes. My Faith. "…even girls like you or me can save the day."

My daughter loved hearing tales of the War, especially the parts her father and I had played in them. She thought of them now, smiled widely, and, with determination, declared, "Yeah! A girl is able to do anything that boys do! She does it better, too!"

"Yes," Aragorn corrected dryly and bent his head to shake it back and forth in exasperation, having heard his daughter speak the slang word for yes.

My husband usually let it slide, but with her tutors breathing down his neck about preparing his firstborn for to eventually take the throne, Aragorn tried getting her to speak properly. He did not want to stifle her adventurous spirit, but the Man wanted his daughter to at least sound feminine.

"Yeah," I added, mockingly stern as my eyes narrowed and I made faces at her for using the so-called Bad Word. My daughter bit back laughter at my use of the word and the silly faces.

Unlike Aragorn, I thought it amusing – hilarious, really – to hear her spout these words and still blow people away with her cleverness. Most of the Council thought her precious, with her kind heart and contagious laughter. Several of the stuffier nobles, however, thought the opinionated Princess a complete terror, with her wild spirit, loud voice, and desire to ride her Orion while wielding her sword and screaming at pretend enemies. They gleefully told her that a good princess would not did not take part in such things.

Eventually, I lost patience with their idiocy, which made Faith cry, and in the midst of the next meeting, I popped in. Everyone could tell that I meant business because I walked in, slammed down both hands atop the table, and pointed out two mistakes in their letter to King Thranduil, which had been written in Elvish. I also loudly announced that the Men only disliked Faith because the girl could find loopholes in their laws. Faith, who had trailed in with me, then obediently pointed to said loopholes in their newest law while smiling brightly.

The Councilmen were completely flabbergasted, and Aragorn was incredibly proud.

My husband glared playfully at me, eyes gleaming with mischief and affection. "Quiet, you," Aragorn teased while sternly pointing his finger at me, as if that would really help. He and I both knew, however, that I would always speak my mind.

"Make me!" I teased him, too – laughing as my sweet and playful husband reached forward to pin my smaller form against the tree trunk. He pushed his forehead against mine, and then, staring into my eyes, pressed his lips to mine. We kissed gently.

"Ew," Estella Faith squealed, childishly lifting her hands and covering her bright eyes up. She still managed to scamper away without running into the trees and, in between giggles, teased, "Daddy kissed Mommy! She's going to have cooties!"

Laughing at her words, I cupped both hands over my mouth and loudly called, "Cooties, huh? I like having cooties, though, because Daddy has nice ones!" I playfully smacked at his chest. "So I think Daddy should give you a cootie kiss, too! Right, Daddy?"

Smirking, Aragorn pressed his lips to my cheek and then began to stalk after his daughter, his hands out in front of him like a monster. He followed the sounds of her little footsteps and chuckled, "Best hide, Estella Faith! Here I come!"

"NO! No, Daddy, I do not want cooties!" My daughter shrieked in laughter and bolted for the safety of the huge garden growing along the sides of the courtyard, all the while hysterically giggling and chanting, "No, no, no!"

"But Mommy claims it is better to share, Faith," Aragorn called back in pretend confusion. She protested his words and skipped merrily away. He winked at me again and ducked behind the largest rosebush in the garden, secretly waiting for her to return.

Leaning against the tree again, I smiled at their games and gently rubbed at my, once again, swollen stomach. It had been ten years since I had given birth to Faith. At first, Aragorn was completely terrified of coming near me, of making love, because I had nearly died in birthing his firstborn child. As time passed, however, Aragorn noticed that my strength had returned, and the light in my eyes. Bets were soon made around the Castle, and particularly amongst close friends, about how long it would take before the next heir to the throne was conceived. It had been ten years, and I was about five months along. So Boromir won.

Thus, I was pregnant again, and with a son. I was a sister, daughter, friend, wife, and mother, and ten years after the conclusion of the War, I would have two children – Estella Faith and Aranón Hunter. My daughter I had named after both Aragorn and Manwë. My youngest, Aranón, however, was to be named after his father and…

I am most honored to be his namesake.

Happily, I exclaimed, "Oromë!"

Hello, Child.

"How are you?" I asked the Vala, knowing that it had been extraordinarily busy once again in the Hall of Mandos. Now that Death – rather, Melkor – had been subdued and the Witch King had been vanquished by Eowyn, Oromë was in charge of him.

All is well, Oromë assured, hearing the small question in my voice. Our War was over, an era of serenity, peace, and safety returning to the land. Evil could always return, though…

Smiling, I turned to face the Huntsman, but merely out of habit. I had not been back to the Hall of Mandos in ten years, nor could I look into it within dreams. I laughingly teased, "Just checking in?"

Yes, Child, and for the last time, Oromë gently explained while smiling at the sudden surprise that claimed blue irises and parted pink lips. While I could not see the Vala, I could feel his hand, which rested firmly upon my shoulder.

Startled, I grasped his hand with my own and hesitantly asked, "…the last time?"

Yes, Samantha, Oromë said, clearly using my name. It is time that I sleep. I need to rest for the next Great War. It will not be for many millennia, but I have to be strong enough to help the next Champion fight in our stead – for Good.

Everything was quiet for another moment, while I stared wistfully out at the courtyard. My eyes were damp because, I realized then, I would not him again until I died, and when I blinked back tears, I could only see my young daughter and loving husband. Aragorn was still chasing her, but at that exact moment, little Faith turned around and leapt straight at her father, attaching herself to his leg and tripping them both. My husband and daughter dropped to the ground, stunned, and then stared at each, laughing loudly in happiness.

"…Hey, Oromë?"

The Vala, though invisible, let his voice reach my ears. Yes?

Eyes wet, I reached for his hand, squeezed it once more, and whispered, "…Thank you."

While Oromë said nothing else, I could feel his smile, and for the last time, I heard his rumbling laughter within my mind, echoing like thunder in the distance. Sunshine burst through the gathering clouds, bringing light and laughter again to Gondor. Home Sweet Home.

"Little One!" Aragorn called, raising his hand and waving it at me. Estella, in his arms with her hands braced against his strong shoulders, giggled hysterically and called to me, too. "Come play, Mommy!"

My heart singing, I smiled at them from within the shade, before leaving it to laugh and play and dance in the sunshine beside the White Tree of Gondor.

May The Angels Protect You,
Trouble Neglect You,
And Heaven Accept You.
When It's Time To Go Home.

May Your Tears Come From Laughing,
You Find Friends Worth Having;
With Every Year Passing…
They Mean More Than Gold.

I'll Be In Every Beat Of Your Heart
My Love Will Follow You, Stay With You…

~Never Alone, by Lady Antebellum

~THE END~

***Author's Note***

So many emotions! I am so incredibly happy, depressed, relieved, excited, and proud! :) :) :)

Important: I might be writing a small novella for Life After the War (Called Sovereign); I'm not sure. Review if you'd like to read it! :)

Also, I have completely edited this story! Most of the changes occur in the story from the Prologue to around CH 25 or so. It added about 20,000 words to the story, though I cut some parts, too! I have added lots and lots of extra Aragorn/Sammy fluff, too! Lemons have been cut out (indicated by little Missing Scene Notes) and put into a small novella/two-shot called Sacrificial Lamb, which is under my stories. ENJOY! :)

NOTE: My Hobbit Story, called Fairytales, is up! It is, tentatively, Thorin X OC. It is just the prologue at the moment, but please check it out, read it, alert, and favorite! :)

:) As always, I am so completely blown out of the water by your support and love! Thanks so, so, so much for taking this ride with me! :)

THANK YOU ALL SO, SO, SO MUCH!

PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!

...and Fin.

:)