The Forgotten Love ~A Faramir Love Story~

Chapter XXIII

It was dim outside. Not quite dark, but the sun was too low for it to be considered day.
She was outside the White City's gates, staring out across the Pelennor Fields, towards the ruined city of  Osgiliath.It was a brisk evening, and she wrapped her cloak tightly around her. It was not the cloak of the Rangers. This one was different. It was longer, much longer, reaching the ground and spreading out around her feet. It was a deep, royal blue, a symbol of nobility. Its edges were trimmed with a brilliant gold embroidery, the stitchings spelling out old Elvish runes. She was ever so grateful for the hood that protected her head and face, as it was broad and thick, repelling the ruthless wind blowing around her. 

Suddenly, she spotted something, a small dot on the horizon. She took a step forward. A few more dots appeared. She took a few more steps, this time picking up her pace, just a bit. More and more dots appeared, before suddenly, there were hundreds, and they were getting closer.
She stopped, watching as the figures grew closer. She saw that they were soldiers on horses. They were riding fast and with the wind. They were of Gondor, and they were returning home.

Gwen started running towards the horsemen, scanning each face she could make out. It was not long before they had approached close enough for her to see.

They weren't soldiers. They wore no armor, carried no spears, banners. They wore no tall, metal helmets.

They were Rangers, and he was leading them.

She stopped in her tracks, her hands covering her mouth in shock, happiness, and most importantly, relief. 

He was alive. He was safe!

He was home.

As they got closer, he laid eyes on her and pulled his horse to a stop. His mouth formed her name with his lips, silently uttering it.

She simply stood there, happy tears forming in her eyes as her hands remained over her mouth, folded together in as if in prayer. She whispered his name into her hands. It was ask she were too scared to say it aloud, lest he vanished from her sight.

Slowly, as if I've could not believe she was so close to him after so long apart, he climbed down off his horse and walked towards her. His own cloak billowed and flapped around his legs from the wind, the hood of it making his face nearly impossible to make out.

She knew who he was though. She had known right away. 

He stood in front of her now, staring into her eyes. Slowly he pushed his hood back, his light brown curls flowing around him. 

"Is it you?" He asked. "Is it really you?"

She nodded, removing her hood and letting her own hair loose. "Of course it is," she smiled softly. "I had to see for myself that it was you they spotted on the horizon."

He reached out to touch her face, as if he still didn't believe it was her. He rubbed his thumb against her cheekbone, feeling its warmth. He brought his other hand up, lifting her eyes up to meet his.

"It is you," he said.

Without warning, he grabbed her waist, wrapping his strong arms around her back. He picked her up off the ground and spun around in a circle. She wrapped her own arms around his neck, laughing and holding on for dear life as she was twirled around.

After a few seconds, he set her back on her, his hand moving up to her cheek.

"It's been so long," Gwen whispered. "Since I have felt your touch against my skin."