"I could have played safe, but in the end the journey's brought joys that outweigh the pain.
Paupers and kings, princes and thieves,
Singers of songs, righters of wrongs, be what you believe,
So saddle your horse and shoulder your load,
Burst at the seams, be what you dream and take to the road."
-Frank Turner, Journey of the Magi

Perhaps the greatest victory abound was when the white lady of Rohan convinced Amelia to wear a corsage, albeit under stark protestations from the other party involved.

"It doesn't feel like me." She complained as she twisted and turned in front of the mirror, frowning at her reflection. A large, separate chamber had been set aside for the ladies to ready themselves for the coronation, and Amelia certainly appreciated the company of a fellow woman for a change, but the fact that they were expected to emerge as ladies worthy of the court of Gondor put a dampener on Amelia's good mood.

"It took a great deal of coercion of various parties to agree that you wouldn't have to wear the skirt." Éowyn replied as she tapped her chin, giving Amelia a searching look. "Besides, this will be an event of history."

"Right, right, the unification of Gondor and Arnor, the return of the king, coronation of Elessar, blah blah blah, I've heard it before already." Amelia grimaced at herself. She was grateful that she had been allowed her pants, but Éowyn had explained that she needed to look like she had at least made the attempt to make herself presentable. Amelia could see her point, even if she didn't agree with it, and thus, she wasn't quite as vocal as she usually was when Éowyn stuffed her down a newly washed cotton shirt beneath a brown corsage, a contraption similar to a corset, except it was outside the clothing and wasn't technically classified as underwear, and a tight pair of shoes. "Why does everything have to be so tight?"

"It is the way it is." Éowyn hummed to herself and nodded. "I suppose it's as good as it'll ever be if you have any say in the matter."

"You know, it's not that I don't like parties." Amelia thought aloud, turning away from the mirror. "It's just that you people don't know what a party is. Well, that evening back in Rohan came pretty close, but…" She shrugged. "It's not a real party until someone's dancing on a table and the host is throwing up in the bushes."

"For that, you could go to any local tavern, I'm sure."

"I tried to convince Gimli, but he told me that it would be disrespectful." Amelia sulked, pulling a bit at her hair, which another lady-in-waiting of Éowyn had been gracious enough to pull up in some style or another. "Do I look decent, at least?"

"That you do." Éowyn confirmed with a nod, her golden hair a river of gold down her back, complimenting her green dress nicely.

"It's good to see you in something other than white." Amelia chatted conversationally as Éowyn straightened her skirt and she got a warm smile in reply. "And you smile more. He's that good, huh?" Éowyn blinked at her, straightening her back.

"I'm not quite sure what you mean, my friend."

"Éowyn and Faramir, sitting in a tree…" Amelia sang, looping her arm around Éowyn's, but then she remembered an earlier note she had made to herself and paused. "Hey, can I… ask you for a favor?" Éowyn raised a curved eyebrow at her, her expression teasing at best.

"That depends on the favor, my friend."

"Oh, it's nothing crazy. Well, it is, but… I just need some information, about a particular wording I'm interested in. I don't really know how to say it…" Amelia scratched her neck with her free hand, and Éowyn covered the other with her own. On Amelia's hand, Cilya burned to the point of it being uncomfortable.

"I'm listening."

Amelia was surprised at the level of tactic involved in something as simple as positioning, but she was also aware that no few number of eyes were on anyone important enough to stand so close to the king and thus, she couldn't blame Éomer when he was slightly bossy in telling her where and how to stand.

In the end, due in no small part to his experienced instruction, she stood close enough to him for people to know that she was important in some way, but not close enough for anyone to assume that their relationship was similar to Faramir and Éowyn's. Boromir stood on his brother's other side, looking every inch the Steward, and Legolas had his own minor contingent of elves with him, marking him as the prince he was. Gimli's beard had been brushed and braided and the hobbits had been given the finest clothing available, tailored for their sizes. The great eagles soared above the crowd that had gathered, calling in melodious voices,

Sing now, ye people of the Tower of Anor,
for the Realm of Sauron is ended for ever,
and the Dark Tower is thrown down.

Sing and rejoice, ye people of the Tower of Guard,
for your watch hath not been in vain,
and the Black Gate is broken,
and your King hath passed through,
and he is victorious.

Sing and be glad, all ye children of the West,
for your King has come again,
and he shall dwell among you
all the days of your life.

And the Tree that was withered had been renewed,
planted by him in the high places,
and the City shall be blessed.
Sing all ye people!

What was most unusual however, was the absence of darkness on the horizon. The sky in the east was bright and cloudy, free of the shadow cast by Mordor after years of enduring its unnatural presence. Songs were sung after their victory throughout the city, so it was always filled with music. Bawdy tavern songs, solemn rites and praises of the king, the soldiers, the valar and everything else beneath the sun flowed from the windows, and handfuls of flowerheads were thrown from the highest windows, covering the rooftops and the streets in floral decorations. Somewhere, a bell, either of mourning or celebration, always tolled.

The crowd hushed as one when Gandalf, his white robe shining like the stars and the moon, held aloft the crown of mithril, gold and wrought silver, letting all behold the sigil of the white tree upon it. Aragorn stood before him, his back turned towards the massive crowd of his people, clad in a black cape of velvet and ceremonial armor over his fine garb. He had been washed, and Amelia heard it had been forcefully, and his brown hair brushed until not a hair was left out of place. Amelia pitied him the uncomfortable attention, but let herself leave the worrying to someone else for the time being.

"Now come the days of the king." The white wizard declared as he put the crown atop Aragorn's head, his voice rising above the chattering and mumbling of the shuffling crowd. Gondor had waited centuries for the return of Isildur's line, despite her people's occasional unwillingness to accept its rightful ruler, and Amelia couldn't miss the excitement and gravity in the air. Gandalf smiled kindly down at Aragorn, who looked up at him in return. Amelia saw Gandalf mutter the rest of the traditional phrase to Aragorn before he stepped aside, to let Aragorn take his place at the top of the white stair, but she approved, feeling that it somehow made it all the more personal and all the more real for the newly crowned monarch.

Aragorn paused momentarily before turning around, letting all regard him as their king and he certainly looked the part, but Amelia did recognize slight signs of remaining hesitancy on his part. She couldn't blame him in the least, since thousands of people had turned up and he was facing them all, the object of their attention and affection, however they chose to express it.

Applause exploded from the crowd at the sight of him, old, crotchety men, proud, young lads, elderly hunchbacks and fair ladies all enthusiastically participated in the ovation, all equal in their shared elation.

"This day does not belong to one man, but to all." Aragorn spread his arms, his voice ringing with an air of rightful authority, but also humility and honor. "Let us together rebuild this world, that we may share in the days of peace." Once again, those assembled clapped at his words, shouting cries of joy into the air and a few elderly matrons simply rattling loudly with their jewelry. Amelia only stood, pride and peace bubbling in her chest at the sight, with her hands clasped respectfully in front of her and her head held high as she witnessed the birth of a new age of prosperity.

Then, the mood changed to something greater, more respectful and otherworldly, as white petals rained down from above, upon the king and those close to him and Aragorn sung in the utter, wondrous silence, sung an ancient song of arrival, beginnings and endurance in an old tongue that only a few understood, but most present comprehended.

Looking over the aftermath of all that had been wrought made something inside of Amelia twist painfully, but it was not a feeling she would have given up for anything. After all, and that was a thought that made a wry smirk pull her mouth upwards, that aftermath had been a long time coming.

All in the first lines of people bowed as Aragorn moved through them, Éowyn, Faramir and Boromir, Éomer and Amelia and every guard beside them, but in a fantastical show of humility Aragorn bowed back to all those whom he had had the slightest inkling of some relationship with, before they all fell in line behind him, forming a procession that carved through the crowd. Amelia walked between Gimli and Éomer in respectful silence, but almost barged into Aragorn when he stopped, having met the procession of elves led by Legolas, who was clad in silver and white, with a gleaming circlet set upon his brow. Aragorn smiled warmly at him and the two men simultaneously reached out with their left arm, resting their hand on the opposing shoulder of the other. He uttered a simple, elvish phrase of thanks, but Legolas merely gave him a smile that bordered on smug and glanced to his right, where another group of elves, the people of Rivendell, where Amelia recognized a few from her days in the last homely house east of the sea, stood waiting. There was Glorfindel and Erestor, who had both attended the Council of Elrond, and Lindir

Then, the Evenstar stepped out from behind an embroidered banner and heads turned on every neck to look upon her.

If possible, she seemed even fairer, even paler and even sadder than the last time Amelia had seen her. She looked regal, her flowing gown covered in pale flowers and girt with mithril. Her headdress glittered with jewels, but it was her noble face that shone the brightest against her dark hair, tumbling down her back in soft ringlets, with diamonds hanging in small, discrete braids so they looked like stars against a dark sky. It was unavoidable that every eye was upon her, yet she only had eyes for the king as she stepped forwards, the pausing and dropping into a deep curtsy with a bowed head, a fitting greeting for a man of his position and power.

Then, Aragorn gently reached out and tipped her head upwards as she stood once again and finally, her face broke out into a smile, and it was like seeing the sun finally break through a layer of clouds on a pale, grey day.

They both moved so quickly that Amelia barely saw what happened, but she enthusiastically joined the applause when the two of them kissed each other in front of the whole crowd, Aragorn spinning Arwen around on his feet, even as he held her like she was made of glass. Amelia saw that they both had tears in their eyes, but the joy in their faces was unmistakable, the kind of joy that's so strong that it physically hurts to feel.

"So, when's the wedding?" She shouted when they finally broke apart, grinning widely at the two of them. That earned a few chuckles that spread throughout the crowd, until no one knew where it had originated any longer, and both Aragorn and Arwen glanced briefly at her, but it was clear for all to see that all they could really focus on was each other as the procession continued, Aragorn escorting Arwen as his equal through the throngs of bowing nobles, commoners and dignitaries. "Kissing someone in public is basically an unofficial engagement, isn't it?" She mumbled to Éowyn, who seemed to think on it a bit before answering her.

"It's not quite as much of a commitment as that, but it does signify… something."

"Got it. Unspoken rules and all that." Amelia nodded to herself and Éowyn helpfully held her back when the line stopped again, stopping her from continuing straight into Aragorn's back. "Thanks." She mumbled and Éowyn smiled at her before looking at who they had stopped for.

Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin gave each other uncertain glances, but then they bowed deeply, if a bit awkwardly, to Aragorn, who immediately shook his head and stepped forwards, spreading his hands towards them.

"My friends…" He said in disbelief, as if he couldn't believe his own eyes and what they saw the hobbits doing. Uncertainly, the hobbits looked up again, straightening their backs and shuffling their large feet. "You bow to no one." Aragorn finished firmly, and then, the king of Gondor and Arnor knelt with a bent head in front of the four of his friends, and the movement spread like a ripple, the entirety of those assembled falling to their knees.

Amelia briefly caught Frodo's eyes as she knelt and knew that they both understood each other perfectly in that moment. Thrown into a wider world, forced to venture farther than they ever would have otherwise and ending up a different person, fitting neither here nor there. Then, the moment was gone and Amelia bent her head again, studying the tips of her shoes and losing herself in the simpler memories of the early days of the Fellowship, of days spent wandering in the mountains, of washing in streams and sleeping beneath the stars.

When every formality had been said, when the procession dispersed and the people started chattering and laughing amongst themselves again, it was time for the wine to flow, the music sound and of those who had come for the coronation, only a very few chose to return to their homes or temporary lodging early, for the day was still young and there was much dancing, singing, feasting and merriment to come as lords mingled with the destitute and all joined together as equals in their happiness.

The great hall of Merethrond was filled to the brim, but there were yet more people and thus, the festivities carried on in the courtyard and in the streets. Amelia found Merethrond to be loud and noisy and thus, she remained outside, where the rest of the Fellowship was as well.

When Amelia moved through the crowd step by step, she saw Merry, Éowyn, Faramir and Boromir standing together, all of them smiling with varying degrees of interest and enthusiasm as they discussed their plans for the coming days. She saw Frodo, Sam and Gandalf having some serious discussion in a somewhat secluded spot, a little ways off from the larger crowd. She saw Éomer, Legolas, Gimli and Elrond exchange news from each of their realms, trading information with good humor and grace. She saw Aragorn and Arwen surrounded by a throng of guards and admirers, content with simply enjoying each other's company and occasionally greeting an old friend they had spotted amidst the many faces, with Pippin following along and occasionally chipping in with a simple comment that often spread laughs and fond nodding. Most of all, however, she saw joviality and relief, she saw happiness and humor and, most importantly, she saw undiluted hope shining in the eyes of the people of Gondor, Rohan, Rivendell and every other imaginable presence.

"Gimli, son of Glóin, have you your axe ready?" She heard Éomer ask and she stopped in her tracks, swerving towards them in concern.

"Nay," Gimli spoke gruffly, "but I can speedily fetch it, if there be a need."

"You shall be the judge of that," answered Eomer. "For there are certain rash words concerning the Lady of the Golden Wood that still lie between us."

"Well, your highness," said Gimli, "And what say you now?"

"Alas!" exclaimed Eomer and shook his head. "I will not say yet that she is the fairest lady that lives."

"Then I must go for my axe," Gimli made to walk away and Amelia hurried towards them, attempting to intervene before things got out of hand.

"But first I will plead this excuse," said Eomer. "Had I seen her in other company, I would have said all that you could wish about her and hers. But now I will put Queen Arwen Evenstar first, and I am ready to do battle on my part with any who deny me. Shall I call for my sword?"

The Gimli bowed low. "You are excused for my part, lord," he said. "You have chosen the Evening; but my love is given to the Morning. And my heart forebodes that soon it will pass away forever." Amelia had gotten quite close to them in her haste, but she exclaimed a loud laugh when she heard their exchange and stumbled away, a hysterical giggle making its way out of her.

When her laugh had stilled at last, after quite a while of boisterous guffawing, she changed her pace and marched towards Aragorn, steeling herself for the collective reaction she was sure to come.

"Excuse me, coming through, begging your pardon, sorry, coming through…" She reiterated loudly as she elbowed her way through the people blocking her way. Her boldness, height and reputation made it easier to get through, but Aragorn had to wave her through the line of armored guards blocking her way and Amelia knew better than to pick a fight with any of them at such an event. "Thanks."

"It warms me to see you again. We have not yet had the chance to talk." Arwen greeted warmly and Amelia briefly bowed her head, her own formality surprising herself just as much as everyone around her.

"Same to you. To tell you the truth, I thought I'd be long gone by now." The people around them were at least polite enough to pretend that they weren't listening to every word that the three of them exchanged.

"Have you decided when you will return to your own home?" Aragorn asked gently and Amelia coughed lightly.

"Well, yes, actually, which brings me to what I wanted to talk with the both of you about." Amelia squared her shoulders and looked into Aragorn's eyes, stomping down on her last, screaming doubts. "I want to swear an oath of fealty to you."

Aragorn couldn't have looked more surprised if she had slammed him in the face with a chair, but Arwen's face broke out into a warm, knowing smile and her wise eyes gleamed at Amelia, who felt her confidence grow at the sight of Arwen's immediate support of the proposal.

"You realize that…" Aragorn began warily and Amelia held up her hands.

"I know that oaths are usually reserved for vassals and lords, but it's as much for me as it's for you. An oath, a promise, what's the difference? An oath is just more official, but I take it just as seriously." Amelia cocked her head and her cheeks colored ever so slightly. "I'd swear you my sword, but, uh… I wasn't allowed to bring it for the coronation." Aragorn smiled at her and spread his hands in a friendly gesture, open and welcoming. Amelia didn't fail to notice that their audience had turned their full attentions towards them and fallen silent, watching the proceedings with interest. She wasn't sure how much they knew of her, her origin and identity, but she was aware that it was known that she wasn't just anyone. She had some degree of status as a member of the Fellowship and her relationship with the prince of Mirkwood, the Lady of Rivendell, the Steward of the white city and the kings of both Gondor and Rohan only served to solidify that status.

Amelia didn't feel the appeal of kneeling in front of Aragorn, due to the casual nature of their friendship, and because she had the feeling that Aragorn had seen enough of his subjects kneeling for him for one day already, although that was unlikely to lessen in the weeks, months and years to come, she instead placed her right hand over her heart and spoke in a solemn voice with no hint of her usual wit. She had recited the phrase with Éowyn in private, making sure to know the exact words and whether she would have to make any change of wording.

"Here do I swear service to Gondor, in peace or war, in living or dying, from this hour henceforth, until my king release me… or death take me." Amelia looked up and proudly met his eyes, a faint smile curling her mouth upwards as her words rang clearly across the courtyard, making heads turn. She had been told that there was a traditional reply for an oath of such a nature, but Aragorn disobeyed tradition in favor of reaching out and placing both of his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes intently, but happily.

"I would not only be glad, but honored to accept such an oath from you, my friend. I would listen to your counsel, have you break your fast at my table and fight at your side." Simultaneously, they inclined their heads towards one another. "So let it be." Amelia couldn't resist letting a triumphant smile break out on her face, even as some inner part of her broke under the weight of what she had done.

After some quirky comments on her part, words of congratulations from Arwen and some of those assembled, she felt a pair of eyes resting on her and she turned to find Gandalf looking straight at her, asking a wordless question even as they were nowhere within reach of one another. Without uttering a word, Amelia held his eyes as she stepped away from the royal pair and their entourage, once again the only ones walking through the crowd alone. Clenching her jaw, she nodded at Gandalf, a single, sharp jerk of her head and she would have sworn another oath that she heard him sigh across the courtyard. Then, he broke eye contact and turned back to his own followers, returning to the more mundane conversations of the moment.

Amelia made a beeline for Éowyn, giddy with the anticipation of telling her that she had indeed carried through with her decision, but soon after leaving the immediate rush of the moment, she did feel her joy ebbing and her smile faded, leaving behind an unbecoming and unusual expression of resignation, loss and resolve. A numbness spread throughout her limbs, but she still felt as conflicted as before she had carried through with it. The painful feelings of indecision and doubt had been replaced with grief for everything she had ever known, but not regret. She knew that some degree of that would come, but she knew that her decision, while not easy, had been necessary to make and there was no way out of the outcome any longer.

"Hey." She mumbled to Éowyn, feeling bad about interrupting their pleasant conversation, but not so much that she would just walk away once more.

"Amelia…" Éowyn's bright smile faded when she saw Amelia's expression, and Faramir, Éomer, Boromir and Merry quickly picking up on it. "Did something go wrong?"

"No." Amelia strangely felt no tears in her eyes, but instead a painfully hollow spot in her chest. "No, it went just as we'd discussed, really." Éowyn's face turned sympathetic and she put a pale hand on Amelia's shoulder, squeezing in reassuringly.

"What did you do?" Merry asked her and Amelia sighed, pulling a few locks loose when she ran a hand through her hair, forgetting that it had been pulled up and twisted into a style shortly before the ceremonies began.

"I swore an oath of fealty." She sighed and she had to admit that she was impressed with the reactions. Éowyn already knew, but her brother's eyebrows shot up into his hairline and his mouth popped open a bit. Faramir looked shocked, staring at her, but not in an unpleasant way and Merry grinned up at her, obviously having figured out the implications of that on his own already. Boromir simply froze up, standing still as his grey eyes rested on her.

"You do realize those are permanent?" Faramir inquired carefully, but a smug smile was already spreading on his face, replacing his surprise.

"Yes, I am perfectly aware of that." Amelia sighed, twisting her head and hearing a few pops from her neck. "Then why are you sad?" Merry asked innocently, frowning in confusion at her. She shrugged helplessly.

"Merry, I… I wasn't happy per se, before all this happened, but I was content. I had … I've left a lot of things behind. I mean, I'm still struggling with the concept of… Middle-Earth, basically." She sent him a small smile, one that he awkwardly returned. "I can't really explain it. I think… I think I'm gonna be sad every day from now on, for the rest of my life, pretty much. Happy, too, but…" She shrugged again, feeling oddly vulnerable under the many curious eyes suddenly upon her.

"Was it worth it?" Éomer asked bluntly and Amelia gave him a conflicted look.

"I don't know if it was. Is. I won't go back on my word though. I just…" Amelia trailed off and glanced at Éowyn, who, more than anything, looked like she understood better than the others what she was talking about.

"I was I had more than my condolences to offer." Faramir gave her a sympathetic look, but she looked in the other direction. "I can only hope that time makes the decision easier to live with." Amelia felt something within her constrict and she pulled away from Éowyn.

"Excuse me." She said as politely as she could, before turning and walking in the other direction, faster than she usually did, but she took care not to break into a sprint, for she wouldn't allow herself to rush out of the celebration like an overemotional maiden. Instead, she made her way towards the white tree and something in her face must have shown what she felt, for when people saw it they parted respectfully, some of them mumbling quiet well-wishes and minor consolations.

Amelia stopped at the edge of the water and wrapped her arms around herself, regarding the blooming tree with thoughtful, narrowed eyes. She was aware that someone had followed her, but she had stopped caring about most of their reactions. There would be plenty of time for those, at least, when word spread of her decision.

With an inaudible sigh, she craned her head back, squeezing her eyes shut before she opened them again, up at the sky above her. The day was still young, but the first stars had already begun to appear. A pang of pain went through her neck when she jerked her head downwards, the sudden movement causing a loud crick. She relaxed once again when she saw that it was one of her friends who had approached her again, if rather timidly.

"Hello." Merry clumsily said to her as he shuffled up beside her and she smiled halfheartedly down at him. "I wanted to… check if…"

"I'm fine, Merry." Amelia replied automatically, sighing to herself at the words, which bordered on being snappish. "You know… No, I-I'm not fine, but I think I will be. In time. I actually think…" Amelia looked up at the tree again and a small smile finally crossed her face again, melancholic and dejected still, but also hopeful. Small white flowers covered the healthy branches. "I think I'll be just fine." She brushed a stray tear away from her cheek, attempting to stop the steady flow. "With time."

"Ah, then…" Merry cleared his throat. "It just seemed that you were-"

"No, I'm fine." Amelia insisted, then laughed a bit to herself. "It's funny." Smiling, she went on to explain herself to Merry. "I was batshit terrified of making this choice… but it all became that much simpler when I thought of myself, first. Not to sound selfish or anything, but…" She took a deep breath. "Whatever choice I made… I had to base it on what I wanted. Not what anyone else wanted, and I couldn't let it all hinge on a single person." Amelia smirked a bit to herself, though it was a sad one still. "No matter how much I may care for him- them. I'm not choosing a single person, I'm choosing all of Middle-Earth. Whoever comes along with that is…" She chuckled to herself, not feeling quite up to par with her usual joking. "An unexpected side benefit, I suppose." Merry cocked his head a bit.

"I think I understand." He nodded slowly.

"I was so worried about all of this coming down to one person… coming down to Boromir, or me, or my family, or anyone, but then, everything became so much easier when I realized that it didn't. I'm not choosing Boromir or Minas Tirith or any of that." Her smile grew a bit and she gave Merry a mischievous look, her signature smirk pulling her mouth upwards again. "I'm choosing me."

"Well, then." Merry nodded, though Amelia doubted that he fully understood what she'd been telling him. "Let me know if there's, ah, anything I can-"

"I will. Thanks."

"Should I come back later?" A polite voice butted in and Amelia turned around towards Boromir, who had clasped his hands on his back as he stepped closer to them. A few of the people around them bowed to him and he gave them brief nods as he passed.

"Speak of the devil…" Amelia drawled, crossing her arms and tilting her head at Boromir as he took a step closer to her.

"Oh no, I was just, uh, leaving." Merry smiled up at him before shuffling on his way, over towards where Pippin was talking to Arwen, his face alight with passion and hers bearing a fond smile.

"Sorry I didn't tell you." Amelia spoke before she let him have the chance to start the unavoidable conversation. Side by side, they looked up at the white tree. Boromir, as opposed to her hasty outfit, looked impeccable in black and silver, with the sigil of Gondor on his chest and a velvety, draped cape in black.

"Amelia…" He sounded like he knew what he wanted to convey, but was at a loss as to how he ought to do it.

"I did think about it. Just so you know. And I don't regret it, not yet and least, but the jury's still out on that one."

"Amelia." He turned to face her and she did the same, her mind registering that, whereas her placement with Éomer had conveyed a connection, but nothing akin to a closer relationship, her accidental facing Boromir most likely conveyed precisely the opposite to their growing amount of onlookers. "You are staying?" He sounded far less like a lord and much more the man that she knew lay beneath the years of grooming him for his office. She lost track of where her carefully constructed explanations disappeared to as she met his eyes and she finally, since bowing her head and uttering her oath of fealty, felt close to full again after the brief hollowness, her heart rapidly filling up with too many things for her to describe and accurately remember, oblivious to the fact that the entirety of the Fellowship and a large amount of the attending men and woman of the event weren't bothering to hide their interest in their conversation.

"You bet your ass I am." She replied breathlessly. There was a single, precious moment of silence and infinite opportunities, but every one of Amelia's thoughts went out the window when she and Boromir moved at the same time, crashing together. Their lips moved in synch. Boromir enveloped her and Amelia flattened her left palm against his back, the other moving up into his hair as she kissed him, and him her. It was slow, but nowhere near chaste, and to Amelia, it was like what she had imagined coming home would have felt like. There was no fanfare, no grand applause, but she felt Boromir smile, truly smile, and she did so in return, even as her lips were still locked and moving on his.

When they finally broke apart, Amelia blinked at him, feeling no wish to step out of his arms and he seemed to echo the sentiment, resting his forehead against hers. To her surprise, Amelia felt her eyes watering slightly as they breathed together, their lips no more than an inch apart, but her smile was brighter than it had ever been, even as she noticed the clapping and the few hoots that came from around them.

"Finally."

Fin.

A/N: Aaand that's that, folks!
Guys, girls and everything in between, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading this story. I finished it a good while ago, having started it as no more than a pastime, but now that I'm able to mark it as 'Complete' at last, I feel like this story, for all its faults, has become very dear to me. All of you, every single one who took the time to read and review and keep up with Amelia and her antics, were a part of that. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.