The bells rang and the entire kingdom, it seemed, was invited. The white city gathered together to celebrate this union. The groom stood at the front, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were focused on...what else? His bride.

She wore a crown of white flowers on her head and her hair was golden. Her shining eyes caught his attention. They always did. She was a bride that any groom would be proud of. Everyone watched in awe at her beauty and her gentleness as she walked to meet her groom.

The city rejoiced when the two stood together. She held out her hands, and he took them. He was shaking. The ceremony began and the city was silent. The groom held back tears as the time came for him to kiss his bride. She closed her eyes as flower petals filled the air, falling onto her long eyelashes. He also closed his eyes, for fear of his tears falling. Their lips met and the two were one.

Faramir held out his arm for his bride, and they walked into the citadel. Once the doors closed, his bride pulled away from him and sighed.

"Finally. A few minutes of peace and some time off from keeping appearances."

Faramir nodded. "I know that I can never apologize enough for this…"

"It's alright. You simply wish to please your father."

"Isis...I want to-"

The doors to the citadel opened and the two watched as Denethor, Faramir's father, stepped in to greet the newlyweds. He had a smile on his face. Something Faramir rarely saw, especially whenever he was around. Iris watched as his father wrapped his arms around his youngest son. Faramir stood stiffly and told Isis to give them a moment alone. She left the room as Denethor pulled away from his son.

"You have made me proud this day, Faramir. Today, you have wed a beautiful woman, and soon, you will have control of Gondor."

"As you wish."

"Is it not your wish, Faramir?"

He swallowed. "You know it is, Father."

Denethor frowned. "Prior to this day, you wished the rule of Gondor to go to the ranger."

"Aragorn is the rightful heir of Gondor."

Denethor opened his mouth to argue but Faramir continued quickly. "But what experience can a ranger have that will prepare him to lead a kingdom? It is better this way."

His father eyed him suspiciously, but let the subject drop. For now, Faramir knew. "Shall we join the rest of the city at the great feast?"

The rest of the evening was filled with smiles and feasting. Faramir was the only one who sat in silence as he and his bride watched the city celebrate their marriage. Denethor looked to be the happiest. Little did Denethor know that Faramir and Isis had made a deal of their own prior to the whole marriage. Faramir lowered his eyes as he sensed the party atmosphere coming to an end. A sense of peace came over him as he and Isis wished the subjects on their way home. He and Isis walked to their sleeping quarters with Denethor following behind them.

"May you both sleep well tonight," he said as the couple entered the bedroom.

Faramir gave a fake smile. "Thank you, Father."

The doors closed and Isis gave a small sigh of exhaustion. "To bed now. It's been a long day."

"The rest does not begin tonight. It will not begin until my father..."

Isis noticed his pause and held his hand." "I know you love your father. But, once he is gone, this will all be done and over with."

He nodded and pulled away from her to walk towards his bed. Isis had her own bed in his private library next door. She gave him a small bow before leaving the room. Faramir removed his wedding clothes and laid down, exhaling loudly. As his eyes looked up at the ceiling, he repeated the memory of his deal with Isis.

Once Denethor died, she would be released from the marriage and be rewarded handsomely for her trouble and time. As a duchess, she would be returned to her kingdom and the kingdom of Gondor would remain a faithful ally, despite the marriage ending.

In the meantime, they must remain married in the eyes of everyone. Especially Denethor. Faramir closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. Turning to his side, he felt a sob coming to his throat. Despite the marriage being brief, it pained him to lie to his father until he died. A knock at his door made him sit up.

"My Lord Faramir," a guard's voice said from behind the door.

"Come in," he said, getting up.

"My Lord, Lady Eowyn has-"

Faramir hurried to the door and shushed him. The guard stopped talking as Faramir began to whisper. "What is your name?"

The guard swallowed. "Barron, sir."

"Sir Barron, you never saw her and you don't know her. Please."

Barron appeared to be in his early twenties. His hair was brown and his face was pale. He gulped as he nodded at the captain's request. "Of course, sir. Sh all I not inform the steward that he has arrived?"

Faramir's look of fear told the boy his answer. Barron moved aside as Faramir left the room to enter the citadel. He rushed through and exited the left side of the building. Very few knew of the glorious garden beside the castle. That was mostly because it was not supposed to exist. The garden held many white roses and vines stretched onto the walls. Strong and beautiful, they were. The gazebo that sat in the middle was made of pearls and held vines as well. His boots removed the absolute silence the garden held as he stomped through. Then, he spotted her. The maiden with golden hair and a gentle nature. Eowyn turned when she heard him coming and lowered her eyes.

"I know I should not have come..."

She gave a small gasp as he pulled her into his arms. He buried his face in her hair and took in her scent. Eowyn closed her eyes and smiled. He pulled away and stared at her. She did not see lust in his eyes. She never did. She saw a gentle and kind man. One who had faced death several times and was a noble captain of Gondor. As he held her hands, she imagined how many weapons they had held. The lives they had taken for the greater good of the kingdom.

"Eomir advised against my coming here," she whispered.

Faramir smiled at that. "Of course he was. That sounds like him."

"How are you? Are you...alright?"

His eyes lowered and he spoke slowly. "The sooner this is over...the sooner I can be with you. To hold you without fear of discovery or embarrassment. Not that I'm embarrassed right now...I just meant-"

"You're tired," she said, amused at his clumsiness.

She pulled away from him but he took a step forward. "I can't keep this lie alive. It'll be the end of me."

Eowyn cupped the side of his face as she spoke quietly. "You have strength within you. Never forget it or doubt it."

A snap made them jump. He pulled her down as they hid behind bushes. She held her breath as they both heard footsteps. It was Isis. Eowyn could tell. She was beautiful. Her hair was golden and her skin appeared soft and clean. She seemed to grace the very ground she walked on with her presence. Eowyn gave Faramir a nudge and he shook his head.

"I will not part from you like this," he whispered.

"I stayed longer than I planned. You must go to her."

Faramir gave her a kiss on her cheek before standing upright. He cleared his throat and approached Isis. She gave a sigh without looking at him. Her eyes were on the kingdom. "I have never noticed this garden before. It's beautiful."

Faramir swallowed. "It's..."

She blinked. "What?"

He shook his head as he dropped the subject. "It's late. My father would scold is both for being here."

As they, once again, entered their quarters, Faramir recalled his mother. The garden was hers. At least, that's what Faramir felt. She had wanted to build it before he was even born. Denethor never wanted it built after she died. Faramir found the plans for it when he was about 15 years old and insisted on it being built. Denethor was ready to beat him for it, until Boromir stepped in and defended his little brother. Faramir climbed into his bed as he recalled his brother. What would he think of him now?

Lying about a marriage? Marrying a woman he does not love? A woman he barely knew before marrying her? Seeing Eowyn while he's married?

His thoughts shut down when he decided he had done enough thinking for one night. Closing his eyes, he fell into a deep sleep.