Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

A/N: If anyone is getting tired of flashbacks, then this probably isn't the story for you—I've decided to use one in every chapter. Just wanted to give everyone fair warning.

Chapter 7—A Bitter Reminiscence

Ellemir's eyes settled on the fire that burned before her, her gaze unfocused as she let her mind wander peacefully. She didn't know how long she remained that way, for she paid no mind to the bustling of the men as they prepared the camp for the night. It wasn't until a deep voice broke into her concentration that she pulled her eyes away from the alluring glow of the fire.

"Lady Ellemir, can you sing?" She looked up to see one of the older of Éomer's Riders gazing at her questioningly. Others, hearing the question looked up expectantly, their eyes unquestionably hopeful. She shook her head regretfully, an apologetic look on her face.

"I'm afraid not. My brother used to say that I couldn't carry a tune in a pail, which is to say, I'm a horrible singer really."

"Surely not," the man replied with a teasing smile.

"Yes. To put it bluntly, sir, I'm quite tone deaf. My brother Faramir is the one who can sing—he always did have such a lovely voice, and I so envied him when I was a child. My oldest brother could sing as well, but he didn't care much for it, and he was not so good as Faramir. But as for me, my father despaired of my singing, for he so wished that I could sing as well as my mother." She trailed off as she began to think back on the sadness that her lack of ability had caused her…

Boromir tried not to wince, even as Ella's discordant singing echoed off the white marble walls of the throne room. She does make for an amusing image, though, he thought, gazing at his sister where she stood on the seat of the throne, singing at the top of her lungs.

"Is she going to stop soon, do you suppose?" Faramir murmured questioningly, looking up at his older brother with hopeful eyes.

"Probably not. But count yourself lucky, Faramir—at least we can leave if it becomes too painful for us. The guards are not so fortunate." The thought of the Gondorian Honor Guard being brought to their knees by a mere slip of a girl put a smile on Faramir's face and he giggled.

"Well they certainly don't look very happy, do they?" he responded, giving his elder brother a smile.

"Faramir, they're the Gondorian Honor Guard—they're not known for looking happy," Boromir said wryly.

"Ellemir!" At their father's harsh voice, Ella's singing ceased and all three siblings look up, Faramir unconsciously edging closer to his brother, hoping that Boromir's larger frame would serve to hide him from their father's eyes. "Ellemir, come down from there at once!"

"Papa, did you hear me singing?" she asked excitedly, her eyes alight with happiness.

"Ellemir, that was hardly singing. Now, there are matters that demand my attention, and I cannot attend to those matters with all the noise you're making. And I don't want you playing in the throne room, Ellemir, I've told you once before. I won't have it, do you understand?"

"Yes, Papa," she whispered, her face falling as she watched her father sweep out of the room with a heavy heart. The guards shared a relieved look, but sobered upon hearing Ellemir's telltale sniffle. Her eyes filled with tears and she ran from the room, sobbing pitifully.

"Father always upsets her," Faramir said softly, shaking his head ruefully. "We should go after her."

"You go after her, Faramir—you're better at that sort of thing than I," Boromir murmured. He'd always been uncomfortable with the softer emotions, and his sister's tears were enough to completely undo him. Without argument, Faramir went in search of Ellemir, finding her exactly where he'd thought she would be. He grasped the branches of the tree she was perched in and climbed up beside her. He put his arm around her, feeling her shoulders shake as she cried onto his shoulder, wetting the front of his tunic. But Faramir didn't mind, for if crying on him made Ella feel better, then it was well worth it. Besides, tunics wash, and I can always put on another.

At fourteen, Faramir was easily capable of balancing practicality with sensitivity, and he was never at a loss when it came to comforting his sister. The two of them were actually quite alike, both possessing a sensitivity that made them ideal companions, completely attuned to one another. And the nature of their relationship with their father allowed them a closeness that Boromir couldn't achieve. Though they loved their older brother, he would never fully understand them, loved as he was by their father.

"Faramir, why is Papa so unkind?" Ellemir asked, her chin trembling as she gazed up at Faramir with bewildered eyes.

"Boromir says its because we remind him so much of Mother," Faramir replied, looking down uncomfortably. "He says that it pains Father to look on us."

"But you don't think so?" she asked, sensing something in his voice that belied his words.

"I don't know. Papa was never the same after she died, you know…he played a game with me once, did you know that?" he asked, changing the subject to distract her.

"Really?"

"Yes. It was a long time ago—Mother was still alive…you were crying, I remember, and Mother was seeing to you. Boromir was off somewhere, and there was no one to watch after me. While Mother was caring for you, Father came and played with me." He fell silent as he thought back on that time so long ago. It was one of his first memories, and he cherished it like no other.

"Did he play with you again?"Ellemir asked, eager to hear of her brother's time with their father.

"No. Mother fell ill not long after, and things were different then." They were quiet for a time after that, each lost in their own thoughts as they sat side by side.

"Is my singing really that bad, Faramir?" Ellemir asked suddenly, her quiet voice breaking the silence.

"Well…maybe with a little practice," he said slowly, "perhaps you could get better." Ellemir sighed, and shook her head.

"It's alright, brother, you don't have to tell an untruth." She gave him a small smile and he returned it before giving her a playful nudge.

"Come on, Ella. I'll race you to the archives—we'll find something to read," he said, edging toward the trunk of the tree.

"Can we read a story about Rohan?" she asked eagerly, her eyes lighting up as she followed him down.

"But you've already read them all, Ella."

"I know, but I like them. Please, Faramir," she pleaded. Laughing, he conceded, and together they raced for the archives to find a tale to read.

"Perhaps I could tell you a story," Ellemir said suddenly, the idea suddenly coming to her as the memory faded. The Riders sitting around the fire with her looked up, somewhat startled at her words, for she'd appeared to be lost in thought for quite some time. The elder who'd spoken earlier came to sit beside her, nodding thoughtfully.

"Very well, my lady. We would be honored to hear your tale."

So it was that when Éomer reached the fire, he found his men captivated by Ellemir's tale, her engaging way of telling the story serving to keep them intrigued even as the cadence of her voice rose and fell. He quickly recognized the tale she was recounting, for it was none other than the legend of Fram and his feud with the Dwarves, one of the lesser known tales of Rohan, and his eyes widened with surprise. Seeing their king standing among them, several warriors slid over to make room for him at the fireside, and Éomer sat down on the grass beside them, not wishing to interrupt. And so it was that dusk fell, with fireside tales of past heroes, of valiant deaths, of joy, and of love.


The night was still and quiet, a sea of stars blanketing the sky, and no one stirred, except for the scouts who kept watch. Aeofrith kicked at the dirt with the toe of one boot, bored by the endless task of keeping watch. He spared an ugly look for Darufin, who stood silently nearby, annoyed that the other scout seemed unbothered by the stillness. He cast a look back at Ellemir, smiling as he watched her unconsciously move closer to Éomer. Within a few moments, she was snuggled up against him, still sound asleep.

Éomer jerked awake, startled by the sudden warmth cuddled against him. He looked down, not surprised to see Ellemir next to him. He could barely see her because of the blankets draped over her, and only the crown of her head was visible. He caught Aeofrith looking at him, and the two men shared a look before Éomer rolled onto his side and curled his body protectively around Ellemir, his eyes closing once more.

Aeofrith could well understand Éomer's protectiveness when it came to Ellemir—she is a treasure well worth guarding. Silence settled among them once more, and the stars above them slowly circled the heavens. Caught up in the solitude and peacefulness of the night, Aeofrith started when he felt a light touch on his shoulder and he turned to see Darufin standing beside him.

"I hate it when you do that. I vow, I will never understand how it is that you move without a sound." He paused when he saw Darufin's eyes looking past him and he frowned. "What is it?"

"Something is amiss," Darufin said cryptically. He walked past Aeofrith, missing the scowl that the other scout sent his way.

"You sound like a damned elf, always with your riddles. Why can't you ever speak plainly?"

Suddenly, a piercing scream rent the air, and all over the camp men shot up from their bedrolls, reaching for their swords as they looked frantically for the source of the cry.

"The stables!" Ellemir screamed. "See to the stables—they'll burn!" Eyes turned to Ellemir as Éomer held her close, trying to wake her. The warriors looked at one another in confusion as Ellemir cried out in Rohirric.

"Ellemir." How is it she speaks in Rohirric, Éomer thought as he struggled to wake her. She doesn't know our speech…He had no more time to think on it, for at that moment, Ellemir jerked awake in his arms, gripping his tunic with cold, stiff fingers.

"Éomer, we must ride for Rohan, quickly," she said frantically, gazing at him with desperate eyes as the men gathered around them.

"What ails you?" he asked, looking at her as though she were mad.

"Éomer, the horses—they'll all be killed! Hurry!" She pushed him away and climbed unsteadily to her feet, gathering blankets and cloaks in her arms as the men looked on in confusion. Éomer stood and followed, catching her arm and pulling her to a stop.

"Ellemir, it was a dream and nothing more," he said, his tone patronizing as he stared down at her. She whirled around and dumped everything at his feet, anger and annoyance at war in her gaze.

"Éomer, if you will not help me, then I'll find someone who will," she said, jerking her arm out of his grasp.

"You forget who is king here, Ellemir. If I so order it, none of these men will follow you." Her eyes darkened with fury at his words and she picked up a branch of firewood and hurled it at him with a cry of outrage. It appears as though the lady has been hiding a temper fiery enough to match her hair, Éomer thought as he was forced to dodge in order to avoid being hit.

"Then I shall go alone," she said furiously, shoving her way past the men of Rohan who looked on. "I vow I am weary of doing nothing while others fail to act. If you will not listen, then it is for me to do something."

"And what will you do if I order the men to stop you?" Éomer asked, following.

"If you do so, you had best be prepared to wound me, for nothing short of that will stop me," she said defiantly.

"Do you think to fight us?" he asked with laughter in his voice.

"You tempt me sorely, Éomer , but I haven't the time for it." She spotted Aeofrith nearby and changed direction, ignoring Éomer completely.

"Aeofrith, could you saddle my horse for me, please?"

"Yes, my lady," Aeofrith answered, turning to lead the way without so much as a glance at his king. Éomer followed, feeling his temper begin to fray. It is time that I put an end to this disobedience.

"Ellemir, it is not yet dawn. We will ride when the sun is upon us and no sooner," he said sternly.

"Very well," she said, and he almost stumbled into her when she came to a sudden stop before him. He looked at her suspiciously wondering why she'd suddenly changed her mind. Aeofrith looked on in amusement, as he watched the wariness come over Éomer's face.

"Come, I shall walk you back to your bedroll," Éomer told her, starting forward.

"No, you shall not. Aeofrith shall," she informed him coldly, and with that, she took Aeofrith's arm, daring Éomer with a look to argue. Feeling his head begin to ache as he struggled to hold onto his temper, Éomer just nodded, not trusting himself enough to speak. Impossible woman, he thought angrily.

As Ellemir slowly followed Éomer, her hand tucked firmly into the crook of Aeofrith's arm, she hung back, forcing Aeofrith to slow as well.

"Aeofrith, as soon as I lay down, I need you to return and saddle my horse for me," she murmured, casting a cautious look at Éomer to ensure that he couldn't hear her.

"My lady, you can't still intend to go," he said incredulously, looking at her with startled eyes.

"Aeofrith, I must. Éomer will not listen to me," she whispered, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

"But, you can't ride to Rohan alone—the way is dangerous."

"But I won't be alone, will I?" she said, staring at him pointedly.

"You ask me to disobey my king, my lady."

"In truth, I do not, for I never heard him forbid you to accompany me. Did you?"

"Not expressly," he said with hesitation.

"Very well then," she said with a smile. He left her at the mound of blankets that some of the men had gathered back together for her, smiling as he watched her pointedly turn away from Éomer, giving him her back as everyone settled back down. Aeofrith hurried away as fast as he could without seeming too conspicuous, knowing that time was short. Sleep will come quickly to Éomer King, for his wound tires him, and then Lady Ellemir will come. I haven't much time.

He had just finished saddling their horses when Ellemir hurried up to him, fastening a cloak around her shoulders. He helped her mount, and as she slid into the saddle, she looked down at him sympathetically.

"Aeofrith, if you do not wish to go, I will understand," she said softly. "Your obligations to your king are important to you, as they should be."

"Yes, but I cannot let you go alone, my lady. I will ride with you." He hurriedly mounted, and together, the two of them rode for Rohan, leaving the camp behind.

From nearby shadows, Darufin watched with veiled eyes, his expression hooded, before he turned and began to make his rounds around the camp's perimeter once more.

"My lord, you must wake." Éomer groaned and slowly opened his eyes, throwing his arm up over his face as the glare of sunlight hit him squarely in the face. Squinting against the harsh light, he looked up to see Garulf crouching beside him with worried eyes.

"What is it, Garulf?"

"Trouble, my lord. Lady Ellemir is missing." Éomer sat up quickly, paying no heed to his still-healing wound.

"Order the men to scour the camp—mayhap she's only wandering, but we must be certain."

"It won't do you any good," a quiet voice broke in. "She's not here." Éomer looked up to see Darufin standing on the far side of the fire with a closed expression.

"What mean you?"

"She rode out well before the rising of the sun, Éomer King," Darufin said.

"You saw this?" Darufin nodded in lieu of answering aloud, and a dark, forbidding look came over Éomer's face.

"And you did nothing?"

"She was in no danger, and if I am not mistaken, she is no captive here. I saw no need to stop her."

"No danger!" Éomer's fragile hold on his temper snapped, and he grabbed the scout by the front of his tunic and jerked him forward. "She has no riding skills to speak of, nor can she fight, and you think her in no danger when she rides off alone in darkness?"

"I did not say she was alone, Éomer King," Darufin said calmly, unbothered by Éomer's hold on him.

"Who would be so foolish as to defy me?" Éomer asked, his eyes flashing with hot fury.

"You never forbade us to go with her."

"Who was it?" Éomer growled, Darufin's cool logic insufficient to stand against Éomer's anger.

"I believe it was Aeofrith, my lord," Garulf broke in hesitantly when Darufin would not answer. "He has not been seen this morning either."

"He will pay dearly for his defiance," Éomer said with a deceptive softness in his voice. "Saddle the horses! We ride now!" he yelled. I will deal with Aeofrith after we find Ellemir. For find her, we must. He hated to think of what could happen if they didn't.


"My lady, I hope you do not think me too bold, but may I ask what it was that frightened you in your sleep?" Aeofrith asked cautiously as they slowed to a canter to allow the horses to rest a bit from their gallop.

"It is not too bold of you to ask, Aeofrith, but I fear to speak of it. I fear that if I give voice to what I saw, it may come true."

"Have you found it always to be thus?"

"No, not always. But sometimes."

"But perhaps, my lady, speaking of it may alleviate your fears. Mayhap I could help in some way."

"No, Aeofrith—all I know is that we must find the place I saw in my dream before it is too late."

"This place you saw, what was it like?"

"It is a great wooden stronghold that rests upon a hill overlooking a city. Do you know of it?"

"My lady, this place you speak of is Edoras. It is the seat of power in Rohan."

"Then it is Éomer's home?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Then we must not tarry. Darkness moves across the land, Aeofrith, and if we do not hurry, Edoras and all that is Rohan will be lost."


Faramir crouched on the ground, intently studying the land for any signs of his sister's horse or the passing Rohirrim.

"Well, what do you see?" Éowyn asked as she and the accompanying guards looked on.

"Ella's horse met up with the mounts of the Rohirrim, but I see no signs of Ella herself. We can only hope that she is with them."

"Well if her horse is with them, then why would Ellemir not be with them as well?" she reasoned.

"She is not the rider you are, Éowyn," Faramir said quietly as he remounted and settled into his saddle once more.

"I'm certain she is with them, Faramir, safe under my brother's watchful gaze. Think you he would let her come to harm?" The worry Faramir felt was unmistakable in his eyes, and he turned to look at her.

"Yes, well we have no way of knowing that she is with them for certain. And so we shall continue to pursue them. I will not lose my sister through my own carelessness, Éowyn! Not like I lost Boromir," he said vehemently.

"But, Faramir, how are you to blame for your brother's death? You were miles away," Éowyn pointed out, her eyes confused as she struggled to understand Faramir's reasoning.

"Precisely. I should have been there in his stead."

"You had no way of knowing what would happen, no way of knowing that your brother would meet his end."

"Yes, I did! Ellemir tried to warn us, but Boromir wouldn't hear of it, and I did not try hard enough to convince him otherwise."

"Then the fault, if there is any, was his own, Faramir, not your own," she said gently.

"Do not speak of him so! My brother was a good and noble man, and I will not have you dishonor him!"

"Faramir, it was not my intention to dishonor your brother," she said apologetically. "I only sought to show to you that you are not responsible for his death."

"We will not speak of it again," Faramir said softly, effectively cutting off any further argument. Éowyn fell silent, intuitively knowing that in his grief, he would not heed her words. Neither Éowyn nor the guards spoke, for Faramir's pain was apparent in his eyes, a deep well of grief that left him with a haunted expression. Though Faramir held himself tall and proud in the saddle, the stiff set of his shoulders belied the anguish he felt.

His throat tight, he struggled to push away thoughts of his elder brother. His sorrow had been long delayed, for the war had left him no time to think on his loss. But now…now he felt the pressing weight of guilt and sadness, and it threatened to overwhelm him. I should have tried harder to convince Father to let me go to Rivendell. I should not have let Boromir go.

"You were always the stronger of us, Boromir," Faramir whispered to the wind. "It should have been me that died." He could still remember that day, the day that Boromir had left for the city of Elrond. He would never forget it, because it was the last time he would ever see his brother alive…

"Boromir, you're needed here. The men look to you for guidance, and we need them confident if we are to hold Osgiliath."

"My brother, I leave Osgiliath in your hands. The men will look to you while I am gone, and I have faith in you. I won't be gone long."

"Couldn't you speak with Father, Boromir? If you could only explain to him that I should go instead…Something tells me that ill tidings will go with you if you journey to Rivendell, brother, and I fear for you. It should be me."

"Faramir, Father has made up his mind. There is no changing it—you know this. I would only be wasting my breath to argue with him. Could you find Ella, and tell her I wish to tell her goodbye before I leave?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject. "I need to collect my things for the journey, and I haven't the time to search for her."

Faramir longed to argue with his brother, but there was a pleading in Boromir's eyes that stayed him. Faramir sighed and gave in to Boromir's wish to speak of it no more.

"I'll see if I can find her."

"How strange it is that such a short moment in time can be of such great import," Faramir murmured softly. I should not have given in so easily, he thought, mentally berating himself for his weakness.

"Faramir," Éowyn began, but he cut her off, not wishing to speak of his brother, his grief, or his pain.

"Come, we must hurry if we are to catch up with them," he said, spurring his horse to outpace her, leaving her to stare after him sadly.


A/N: Ok, guys, so let me know what you think about this one, okay? It seems that the further I go with this story, the less I'm sure of it—is it getting stupid? Let me know, please. Also, the tale that Ellemir was telling is not mine--itis Tolkien's, found in the Appendix of Lord of the Rings.

ModestySparrow9: Ella didn't tell Faramir because she thought less of him; it's just her vision placed more importance on Boromir's presence. Had she seen Faramir attached to that vision, she would have told him instead. Thanks for the compliments, M.

mimishell: I'm glad you find Ella amusing—she is a bit of a smart ass, isn't she? Not as bad as Dayn is, but she's got just enough of it to be funny. I imagine this chapter added to your hate vibe for Denethor—how did you like it? Oh, and let me know how you liked the bit with Faramir and Éowyn. I put those scenes in just for you, because if it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't bother with them (no offense—they're just not my favorites). Anways, let me know what you think--you know me, anything for a review, right?

Amber Leah: Yay, a new fan! Thanks so much for sending me such a great review—I really got a laugh out of reading it! I'm glad you like my portrayal of Éomer. He and Boromir are my favorite characters, but I have a special fondness for Éomer. It means a lot to me that you think my Éomer is in-character. I really don't want to change the way he was meant to be. Anyways, I hope you'll keep reviewing for me, because I so appreciate hearing from people!

daydreamer8301: Yeah, Éomer is definitely starting to get the warm fuzzies for Ella. He just doesn't know it, yet. Anyways, thanks for reviewing, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.