A/N: Writer's block...we've all had it, experienced it, suffered it, even learn to live with it. Honestly, I'm truly sorry for the two month delay. Ahh...ack! Sorry, sorry, sorry...alright, no more sorrys..

DISCLAIMER: Tolkien:"Remember Faramir, you belong to me"

"The lower bridge will collapse soon. That will block our fastest exit route."

"Then you must reinforce it, quickly."

"Yes, father."

A tired-looking Boromir sat opposite the Steward in his office. A glass of wine in between them.

"I want a few of your men to watch over it, once it is complete. As you know, that bridge is a little more than an aid for the orcs as well," Denethor said.

"Yes, I know," Boromir replied, unconsciously rubbing the stubble on his chin in a pensive manner. He looked slowly toward the window. White flakes were covering the panel. For a moment, he closed his eyes, but just as quickly, opened them.

"You seem...distracted," Denethor noted.

"It is a bit early for snow...", he muttered, turning back to him. Immediately, he stifled down a laugh, shaking his head back and forth. "I am sorry, father. I am only--"

"You are only in need of a long slumber,"

"--Yes," Boromir said. Denethor nodded in agreement.

'And what of your brother?" He said. Boromir noted the sudden change in subject, as well as tone. His brow creased. He hadn't thought much of Faramir since his departure. He cleared his throat.

"I know not the delay of his return, but surly he has encountered something requiring his attention." This was the best he could do.

"I see," He replied, softly. "Inform me when he returns," he added.

"Yes, father,"

There was a quiet pause, in which Boromir swished around the wine in the glass, slowly, before finishing it.

"You have my leave, son,"

"Father, I can--"

"You need rest. I do not want you falling over and causing injury, to yourself or to anyone else," Denethor explained. A smile played around Boromir's lips. The then sighed inwardly.

"Thank you, father," he whispered, standing up. Denethor once again nodded, as he closed the door behind him.

Denethor put his hands to his head, and sighed. With one look at the window, he saw it. Indeed, it was an early winter.

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Her two brown eyes stared into utter darkness, unmoved. It was too quiet. Even for the night. If there was one thing Leena would not do tonight, it was closing her eyes. She couldn't stay here. Not another night. Not even another hour. Guilt constantly reminded her that she didn't even once try to break free all those previous nights. No matter. Tonight would be that night.

The quilt fell to the floor as she stood up. She reached out her hands, like a blind man, to find the cave walls to guide her through. The coldness ran up her spine, and she shivered. She found the archway, and peered through. The moonlight cast shadows upon all men asleep. A figure to the far left told her that the captain, also, was asleep. She breathed in, and started to make her way through.

She kept herself on the edges of the wall so she would not have to cross over any of the men. The first exit she could think of, and perhaps the only one, was the waterfall. The roaring waterfall, that had a jump of at least 20 feet. It would be impossible to jump through the running water, but there were two openings where water did not touch. Two small openings, one on each side, grounded with grass that eventually led to the forest floors. That would be her exit.

She felt sprays of water reach her face, as she approached closer to the waterfall. She bent low, and felt the cross-over from wet cave floor, to moisten green grass. With a little more movement, her knees were no longer grounded in the cave. She stood up, inches dangerously near the descending blankets of water. Her ears were most likely deafen by the sound of its roar. She looked at it with frightful eyes, as if it was to come alive and swallow her up. She kept her back directly against the exit walls of the cave, moving ever so slowly on the slippery grass. With at least 7 feet away from her and the archway of the cave, she sighed with relief. She was out of the cave. Out of their reach. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the accomplishment...but it did not last long. Her left foot slipped on the grass, causing her to lose her balance. With a failing attempt, she reached out her hands to grab on to something to hold, only to let it slip through her wet fingers. She fell down, the cold wind rushing through her ears, plunging into the Forbidden Pool.

Somewhere in the near distance, Faramir awoke from a small sound that did not quite seem right...

A/N: Reviews, please!! Greatly appreciated!