Well, I'm back, sooner than I expected! I'm so happy with Chapter 20, I thought it would take ages but surprinsingly, it didn't!
I know it's long but I couldn't cut things out of if... If there are complaints about the length, I may just spilt them into two chapters!
I hope you enjoy this little chappie, it's long and not much action, but maybe a bit of fluffiness. heheheheh!
Thanks for all the reviews and I must say that i was very VERY surprise by the comments! I did not think my fans would hate Éowyn so much, hi hi! Enjoy!

Chapter 20

March 17th Day/Night

Had anyone visited the House of Healings that day, they would have easily known that the Siege was far from over in Minas Tirith. The catapults might have been felled down, the enemy destroyed, but the Healers were now forced to deal with the aftermaths, with the chaos that would reign throughout the sickrooms and the hallways. No sooner had I left Lady Éowyn's room that the Warden ordered all Healers and Healers-in-training to prepare for the arrival of a new wave of wounded.

News reached us that a large piece of rubble had fallen down on the Main Road in the fourth level, rendering the passage impassable. Many guards and men alike worked hard to remove the rubble and by the time they were done, a large number of people had gathered, the majority making their way to the Great Hall or to the House of Healings.

Shortly after the Warden's orders, the injured arrived, women, children, men and guards alike arrived, bearing wounds of all shapes and sizes. From that time on, the House turned into an ocean of chaos with people and healers simultaneously shouting for aid.

Following the orders, I treated as many people as possible and grew into a rhythm, moving to the next injured as fast as possible in order to decrease their numbers. It became clear after a while that it was pointless as more arrived every hour.

Luckily, we received help from the lightly injured who offered their help in simple tasks; even Faramir had managed to make a discrete appearance in the afternoon.

The first time I saw him, my blood froze as I worried that he would discover the Steward's death by a loose tongue in the room but none dared to talk to him and instead watched him in solemn silence.

His presence was quite soothing for me although I could not say the same for my patient as they would let out a yelp of pain when I had temporarily lost my concentration (due to Faramir sending a smile in my direction!).

Nevertheless, as the day progressed, Faramir's presence in the house was unable to prevent my mood to grow darker. The strain of treating person after person without any pause was beginning to takes it toll on my mind and body, especially when each thought it healthy to share their tragedies to me.

Hearing how they had lost children or family members either to the strange illness or at the hands of the enemy, I was getting weaker. What made me draw the line was when a daughter brought her ailing mother and ironically, they could have been my mother and I. It was with a heavy heart that I made the same assessment, she was sick, she was dying and there was nothing to do but to ease the pain. I left the mother to console her weeping daughter and went outside with a lump, convincing myself that I would never return.

Finding a deserted area, I covered my mouths and quenched the quick breaths in an effort to calm down. Fixing the wall, my small sobs were muffled. Ignoring the quiver in my lips, that awful lump in the throat and the wetness in my eyes, I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything positive.

"Are you well?"

His voice.

The mere sound of his voice was enough to create a small stillness. I lifted my head; Faramir was next to me with a worried frown. "I saw you abruptly leaving the room… Has something happened?"

"Thank you for being here." I whispered hoarsely.

He gazed into my eyes and nodded slowly, understanding my turmoil.

"It is overwhelming." I began with great pain. "Hearing their stories, their tragedies, their heart breaks…" I closed my eyes and wanted all these thoughts to vanish from my memory. "One can tolerate so much…" A tear fell down my cheek.

Gently, he lifted my chin up and pulled me closer. "This is the tragedy of war, I fear…" He said with the same pained voice. "So many horrors we have all seen and we believe it can go away by sharing it to someone else without knowing that they are only adding more horrors…"

"Is there no end to the cycle?" I heard myself ask, paralyzed by his unexpected touch.

Faramir paused and glanced away. "I do not know." He admitted sadly. A faint glimmer in his eyes. "But I will help you…"

"How?" My eyes fixed on his.

"You do not need to go through this alone, Ariniel…" His grim faced turned into a faint smile. "I'll be there with you; we'll both share the burdens."

"Oh."

We stared into one another's eyes and only now did I know did I feel my heart being engulfed in his gentle world.

Gently, he broke the connection and I slowly regained my senses. Frowning, I felt an alarm buzzing in my head. "You should not be here." I said suddenly aware of our surrounding and his health. Gaining courage, I tried to forget his kind gesture and confronted him. "You should not be here." I repeated, more confident. "This can easily weaken you!"

"Spoken like a true healer." Faramir commented cheerfully. "The Warden came to visit me after you had left and during his visit he received the message of the incoming arrivals." He shrugged. "I simply could not remain idle while I had one arm that could be of use."

Glaring at him, I examined him from head to toe and surely enough; he did not seem in any pain. "I'll believe you for now." I said suspiciously. "You can come but if you feel any discomfort, I'm ordering you to go back, is that understood?"

"Of course." He exclaimed with a bow. "I had to nurse my ranger's wounds while we were being bombarded by Haradrim arrows in Ithilien; I know how it can get."

I glared once more and we continued on with the work ahead.

At first I was unable to hide a smile whenever we exchanged looks. Healers and persons alike would often stare in our direction, curious that their Captain was helping but they did not dare utter one word. Faramir proved to be a formidable helper. He was often one step ahead of me and always knew what I needed in that exact moment.

Shaking my head, I smiled. "Are you a mind reader?" I whispered when he gave me a piece of wire that I needed to stitch an open wound on a small boy.

I heard him chuckle as I delicately passed the wire through the skin. Faramir's presence was also positive to the ambiance of the sick room; for some reason, the noises and the cries had greatly decreased, was it his image that simply comforted the injured? I wondered. He talked to them listened patiently to their story, their worries and their pains without any hint of boredom. It made my task much easier as I could concentrate more and make a faster assessment. In the course of the afternoon, we managed to treat around fifty or so patients.

When the sun was beginning to set, another stretcher arrived in our room with a whimpering old man following close by. Noticing that I was the only Healer in the room, I took charge of him.

"There." I indicated an empty space in the middle of the room. "Put him gently down there."

The old man crouched by the wounded soldier still clad in his bloodied armour. Gil-Elm had little hair on his scalp but a long white beard that could easily be compared to the one of the Wizard. His pale blues eyes were veiled with tears. "Please." He croaked. "You must help him."

"We'll do everything we can." I heard Faramir say nearby.

Watching and waiting as they put him down gently, my face went pale as I noticed the puddle of blood that dripped down from the guard's body. As soon as he was laid down on the linens, they quickly became matted with blood.

I automatically began my examination. With the help of Faramir, we pulled out the heavy armour which, unfortunately, concealed a dark heavy bruise in his chest and stomach. In most cases, the soldier would yelp in pain but this soldier merely emitted a faint moan, he was barely conscious.

After casting a nervous glance to Faramir, I examined his stomach, where it was nearly covered in a dark bruise. There was blood flowing freely out from a small perforation on the side of his chest and as I remarked the paleness of his face and arms, I knew it meant no good. Measuring his pulse, it was below normal and sinking…He was bleeding to death.

"What happened?" I asked in a hurry as I sensed broken ribs with my fingers.

Gil-Elm whimpered and sobbed. "I was making my way up to the Great Hall when a building collapsed. There was a large boulder that was about to fall but he jumped on me and it hit him instead." He continued sobbing, covering his face with his hand. "Will he recover?"

I bit my lip and examined his abdomen before looking at Gil-Elm with regret. "I am sorry, Gil-Elm, he most likely received the boulder on his stomach and it has crushed his inner organs… It is a miracle he has survived this far but…I'm afraid it is too late for him…"

The old man who was crouched down by the guard's head, let out a cry. "He saved me." He sniffed, gently stroking the young guard's hair. "The lad saved my life, an old man as I am." There was a long sorrowful silence before Gil-Elm broke into tears, burying his face into the Guard's hair.

"Are you his father?" Faramir inquired quietly, looking to the guard then to Gil-Elm.

The old man lifted his head up and shook his head. "No." He sniffed. "I've not met him once. He sacrificed his life for an oaf of an old man." He continued sobbing.

In that instant, Faramir's face grew bleak and he leaned back.

"Is something wrong?" I quickly asked.

He died protecting me..." Gil-Elm sobbed. "There are no medals, victories or enough honours to show how brave this soldier was... He saved my life..." He wiped his nose and shook his head. "When I had woken from the rubble, he was on the ground with the boulder over his body. With whatever strength, I pulled the boulder away and carried him from the fifth level..."

Faramir pulled back and looking into his grey eyes, I knew he had become distant. He did not meet my gaze and quietly stood up in a dazed look. "If you'll excuse me a moment." He exited the room, walking a slow, clumsy pace, as though it took him much effort to guide his feet.

Raising an eyebrow as he left, I was too shocked to say anything. Why would he want to leave? Had he taken ill?

I returned to Gil-Elm and silently watched him taking the guard's limp arm and placing it on his chest, whispering prayers.

It was then that I understood why Faramir had left in such a hurry.

- - - - - - - - -

After preparing the guard to be transported to the corpse chamber once he would eventually die and treating Gil-Elm for minor injuries, I decidedly went in search of Faramir, fearing the worst.

After searching through most of the House of Healings, I finally found him in the Garden, playing mindlessly with the water in the water fountain.

"What happened?" I asked tentatively, stopping midway. "Why did you leave so fast?"

He glanced over his shoulder then hunched his back furthermore without saying a word.

Clenching my fists, I took a few steps closer. "Was it because of Gil-Elm?" I dared to ask. "Because of what he did with the guard?"

He sighed and looked upwards. "This guard saved his life, Ariniel; he saved him without hesitation…. He saved an old man's life and in return, Gil-Elm stayed by his side as a thank you or as debt, I do not know, but he stayed and now, he is watching him die slowly…" He said with a troubled voice. "Is that loyalty, I wonder? Could my Father not have done the same thing?"

My suspicions had been right all along, this was all about his father. "The Steward cannot split himself into two, Faramir." I replied, grinding my teeth for actually defending the brute. "His priority is first and foremost to rule the City. I am certain he is being torn at this moment for being unable to be with you."

"Do you think he would actually care whether I lived or not?" He whispered, passing his hand through the water. "I do not think so." He said bitterly. "He probably expected me to die in Osgiliath any way."

"Do not say that." I shouted in outrage, closing my eyes.

"Why should I not?" He exclaimed loudly, the despair clearly to see. Turning around, he looked at me; a storm brew in his grey eyes. "He's not seen me once…I am beginning to think that he will disown once and for all, for failing yet another task he gave me… I would not be surprised if I were to be banished in Ithilien…" He looked down. "Have you inquired about him?" He muttered glumly.

"Yes, I have." I lied again, beating myself in my mind. "They have told me that he is in and out of meetings with his advisors and the Captains that are to lead the Gondorian army within the Host."

How can I be doing this? I wanted to rage.

He examined me closely and I knew he wanted to believe me but was unable to. "Is that what you were told?" He raised an eyebrow.

I nodded my head slowly.

Letting a faint grunt, he walked to the ledge and admired the evening stars.

"I cannot understand why you seek his approval, Faramir." I said honestly. "Why you seek to be worthy by his eyes."

"He is my father." He said painfully. "He is the one who is meant to protect his children, who is meant to grieve for them, love them through thin and thick…"

Taking a step closer to him, I grabbed hold of his shoulder. "Are you so blinded by seeking his love and his approval that you do not see others who love you?" I asked softly. "You do not deserve to be banished or disowned… You deserve everything available in this world and you should be beyond all else, proud of your accomplishments… Your uncle, Aragon, the Wizard and everyone else who has looked after you would not have wasted their time if not out of love and admiration!"

He glanced at me. "Why can does he not see me for what I am and what I have?" He whispered with downcast eyes.

"Oh, but I am quite certain he does see it…" I said brightly, tapping his shoulder. "Perhaps he is simply unable to express it… Not everyone is blessed with kindness, you know… Even the cruellest person has a soft side…" There I go again, I thought miserably as I stopped talking, calling the Steward, his father, the most horrible names.

"You really do not like him, don't you?" Faramir asked, turning to face me, his dark thoughts slowly fading.

Biting my lip, I glanced away to find the most appropriate and polite answer. "It is not that I dislike him." I began carefully. "I simply disagree with the manner he has treated you. That is all…" Nervous, I looked downwards. "My loyalties, if you wish to know, have now and always been for you and your brother… No one else…"

"Well." He said softly, taking my hand in his. "How can I remain tactless when you utter such moving words?" As he gently pulled my hand upwards, towards the night sky, he smiled sadly. "What is the world to become of if love and loyalty did not exist, I wonder…"

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

March 18th Night

Returning to my tasks as the skies darkened, my body was experiencing a slight tingle through every limb as my body still received chills from the contact with Faramir. I ignored the fluttering in my heart and remembered that I had lied once more and it had been far from convincing.

My words and counsel might have been able to quench his worries but it certainly was not enough to make him forget about it. He could see right through me, I feared. He knew I was lying, he knew something was being kept from him, and as my lies did not satisfy him any more, he was walking to close to the truth… I tried to ignore the faint flashes in his grey eyes during our conversation, as though it urged me to blurt out the truth. "He wants to believe me…" I said aloud as I absently pressed my fingers on a fat guard's chest. "He wants to believe that his father is still alive…"

"What was that now?" The fat guard asked with a raised eyebrow.

Shaking my head, I concentrated on the examination and tried to forget the unforgettable, if not, just for a little while…

Faramir had decided not to return with me as he was feeling weakened by the emotions and turmoil.

The hours went by rapidly and the atmosphere in the House had somewhat quietened in preparation for the night. I methodically continued my rounds, stopped and examined patients when needed, feeding them with whatever was prepared.

It was near midnight and I decided to leave as my eyes continuously closed by themselves. Whenever I slowed down my pace, my muscles began to ache and a head ache was threatening to burst. Yawning, I left the sickroom and was eager to find any available cot to lie down and rest until morning.

"Ariniel!" The Warden bellowed from across the hallway.

Sleep was simply too much to ask for, I thought, irritably. Clenching my fists, I turned around. "Yes?! What is it?"

He waved his hand for me to come while his eyes were fixed elsewhere.

"What's happened?" I heard a healer whispered, hiding from my view.

"A unit is about to arrive from the First Level." He explained rapidly as faint voices were heard.

Not an entire unit! I thought, rubbing my fatigued eyes. It will take hours to treat them all.

"And it is not any unit." He said in a serious tone.

"Which is it?" The healer asked.

"Boromir's unit." He said flatly, glancing at me.

I stopped next to him, my eyes suddenly wide, and all tiredness disappearing from my limbs. The Healer whom I was now able to see gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

"They were stationed by the Main Gates when that Wolf's Head broke them apart." The Warden added as I felt the blood drain from my face. "Many were slain and they say it is a pool of blood down there, but Boromir's unit manage to remain for the most unscathed… Ariniel." He turned to me. "Find me an empty room right away."

Nodding my head, I sped off. Walking at a fast pace, I found a room that had five people sleeping soundly and after forcibly waking them, they left grumpily. Quickly, I prepared everything for their arrival. If they had been Boromir's unit, then everything ad to be done to help them. Not five minutes passed when I heard loud noises from the corridor.

"Ariniel." I could hear the Warden shout.

"In here." I shouted back, as loud as possible.

The room quickly filled up as stretchers arrived and wounded guards, helped by others, painfully walked to an empty space.

The Warden suddenly appeared with two Healers at his trail, followed by another stretcher which had a man trashing senselessly, moaning, whimpering and mumbling words that did not make sense.

"Lay him on the corner there, quickly." He ordered to the guards who carried the man, pointing to a place near the hearth. "You two." He pointed to the Healers, "Come with me. Ariniel, take care of the others, I asked for more to come."

I nodded, and watched the moaning guard being laid on the small mattress before shaking my head and plunging once more into the madness. In all, around thirty guards arrived with one form of injury. Luckily, as I began to treat them, more Healers arrived and the lightly injured were able to assist us. Concentration proved to be a difficult task as the guard persisted in trashing uncontrollably and uttering senseless blabber.

"What has happened to him?" One of the Healers asked as I tried in vain to measure the pulse of a guard who had taken a bad blow to the head, exposing the insides.

"They found him trapped under a pile of dead orcs, right by the Main Gates this morning." The Warden explained as the man groaned again. "He does not seem to be gravely injured although one can never be to sure."

"The poor child." Another Healer sniffed. "Who knows how long he has been lying there! It is no wonder he has lost his mind."

Wisely, they grabbed bandages, potions and vials before beginning to work on the screaming soldier.

Shrugging it off, I worked hard through the commotion. Cleaning the head of the guard I was treating and cutting as much hair as possible, I then had the terrible task of stitching the open gash. While a guard was helping me to keep both sides of the skin together, I was about to pull in the wire through the skin when the guard broke into another fit of trashing and throwing everything about him which made me miss and my own patient let out a yelp. "Watch it! It's my head!"

Grunting, I looked at the lunatic and rolled my eyes. Why can they simply let them to their work? I sighed. He was going to be a handful.

"Let me go!" The guard shouted, pushing the Healers away with glazed, half-maddened eyes. He had woken up.

Everyone in the room seemed to stop and had set their eyes on the Warden who was battling with the guard. He reached for his hand but the guard, merely threw it away.

"You are in the House of Healings." The Warden said in a soft voice. "You are safe here. Let us help you."

The guard, who still wore his helmet, fell back on the linens and grew quiet, except for his laboured breaths. Every single person was leaning forward, waiting for his words.

"They were all around us." He moaned desperately, looking in every direction. "They were so many and we were so few. I did my best to fight them off, to push them back." His voice broke into gasps. "But they just came and came…" He whimpered and broke into sobs, covering his eyes.

The Warden nodded at the Healer to begin her treatment and then looked at the guard. "I know, my lad, I know. But it is over and you have all done what you could." His voice was gradually losing its softness.

The guard suddenly grabbed the Warden's shirt, held him tightly and pulled him close to his face. "We could not even walk without falling over a dead body." He said hoarsely. "The grounds were literally covered in a river of blood; I could not even see where I was going from the smoke of that horrendous wolf's head." Tears fell from his blood-shot eyes. "In the end, I lost track of my unit… I could not see them… And I was their Captain… How could a Captain lose his own unit?" He let go of the Warden and began to shake his head from one side to the other. "How could I have lost them? Boromir certainly would not have lost them." He raged before trashing once more, pushing the Healer that was examining on the floor.

"He is in shock." The Warden said after clearing his throat. He stared at the Captain with exasperation. "Please, calm down, we are here to help you."

"No one can help me." The Captain shrieked, lifting his body up. "No one can erase the torment I have endured. None of you have seen the severed heads being cruelly catapulted by the enemy, none of you!" He erratically began to point at any person in the room

The entire gasped while I grew further infuriated with the Captain's behaviour. "You." I pointed to the guard who was helping me. "Can you stitch a wound?" He nodded his head. Quickly, I gave him the wire-thread. "Here, make it look nice."

"Where are you going?" My patient asked outraged.

"I'm going to stop the madness." I muttered as I stood up.

The Warden and two other guards began to wrestle with the Captain who was trying to run away. "Let me go, I say." He shrieked.

"Ariniel, you must stay here." One of the Healers hissed as she tried in vain to help a patient.

"Someone has to this lunatic." I shouted.

Determined, I left the room and was still able to hear the commotion as I made my way to the little storage where all our items lay. Looking through the vials, I finally found a large green bottle with the poppy's milk. Taking an empty vial, I poured a small quantity and then added boiling water. Mixing it thoroughly, I quickly returned only to find four guards arm in arms with the Captain who had managed to stand up.

"Hold his head for me." I ordered as they saw me arrive.

"What are you doing?" The Warden asked angrily as the Captain kicked him in the leg. Yelping, the Warden let out a grunt and with whatever strength he had, he lunged on the Guard who fell backwards. The other four guards quickly took hold of his limbs. Immobile, the Captain began to cry in fear. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"You." I pointed to the terrified Healer who gave me a nervous look. "Take hold of his head, he will not be able to do anything to you." With a nod, she grabbed his head tightly around her arm and chest while I proceeded to pour the hot liquid in his throat. At first he refused to swallow until I wisely began to rub his neck up and down, an old trick.

As soon as the goblet was empty, the Captain ceased to trash around and when the

Healer let go of his head which bended backward. Sighing of relief, I smiled and nodded to the other guards and the Warden to release him. They glanced at one another, probably fearing another kick or punch but as they let go, the Captain was beginning to feel the effects.

"What did you give him?" The Warden asked as his chest moved up and down rapidly, setting himself on the floor.

"The poppy's milk." I replied. "In a mild form."

Rubbing his temples, the Warden closed his eyes and smiled. "That was clever." We thanked the guards who were limping and gasping for breath and the other Healer was finally able to begin her assessment. The Warden looked at the Captain with interest.

"He was probably one of the most difficult patients I have dealt with yet." He said tiredly.

"I'm terribly sorry." The Captain croaked, his eyes half opened.

The Warden and I glanced at one another. "You're letting us help you now, so that is alright." The Warden said flatly. "Considering the trouble you made us go through…"

For the first time, I was able to take a closer look to the Captain and noticed how his unkept brown beard was concealing his face. Tentatively, I reached for his helmet and pulled it off his head without difficulty.

"I thought so." I declared to the Warden as I let my fingers feel through his dark long wavy hair and finally felt a large lump. "He's received a heavy blow on the side of his head."

The Warden merely nodded.

My eyes lowered to his face and I leaned back, stunned. It must be the fatigue. I rubbed my eyes and opened them once more to examine his round face once more… The square proud chin, the thick eyebrows, the smugness apparent everywhere… They were so familiar…

Suddenly, his dark browns eyes opened and met mine. "I'm so sorry." He struggled to say. The potion was taking quick effect. "I am not one to lose my head in public." His eyes were beginning to close and his speech was slurry. "I know you were…" He was fighting the medicines. He took another deep breath and added, "Trying to help me…" His eyes rolled back and his head gently turned sideways…

"Let him sleep for the next few days." The Warden said with a slight yawn. "It will make his nightmares disappear."

Still aghast, I took another look at the Captain and then a door of memories seemed to open, a door that had been long locked and forgotten. He had changed so much but still I could recognize him as the haughty, better-than-thou little boy that, along with Aryon, terrorized me as a child.

"My lord Warden, pray tell me." I asked in a soft voice. "Who is he?"

"His name is Berethor. He is the Captain of Boromir's unit."

- - - - - - - - - -

Heads turned as I stormed off the room at the mention of his name. Stomping through the House, I felt the bitter hatred returning to every small limb of my body. How could I have forgotten him? I thought angrily. He made my life a living nightmare as a child, pulling vicious pranks and exclaiming to the world that I was to be Faramir's future bride!!! Berethor! Curse you! Had I known it was you, I would have let you carry on and become the joke of the Army!

Many memories that I had long forgotten returned to my mind and my fists momentarily clenched together as I remembered how I had repeatedly been the object of their cruel jokes and mischief... Getting my dress ruined by eggs that he and Aryon threw from a window above... Waking up with the biggest frog I had ever seen croaking next to me... The boy who had convinced me that his so-called pet was a cat and that after giving it to me, revealed to be an oversize city rat... Or one that I would never forget, the boy running around the streets, waving a picture of Faramir that I had secretly drawn, showing to any person that walked across them. Of course, he and Aryon had sneaked into my room in search of any hidden secrets...

Yes, many humiliating memories that I had hoped never to remember... I stopped and leaned against the wall. "Calm down, Ari..." I said in an effort to soothe the anger. "It was a long time ago... A lifetime ago... People change... Often for the better..." I let out a grunt. "Yeah, right..."

I felt a sharp pain in my head as everything began to spin around me. Beginning to pant, I frowned at the deep pounding in my heart and my body began to drop to the ground. Dizzy, my body hit the ground while my hands clutched to the wall. What was happening? After the ache passed, I opened my eyes and the hall had ceased to turn. My head throbbed painfully and after taking deep breaths, I realized that this had been a sign that my body was to the point of exhaustion. The physical and emotional strain had simply been too much to handle.

"I have to get some rest." I ordered myself as I slowly stood up, forgetting about Berethor. My head simply did not permit me to think about anything anymore...

I was about to hunt for an empty cot when I decided that there was one last stop before going to sleep.

- - - - - - - -

Quietly, I entered his chambers on the tip of my feet. Closing the door, I squinted through the darkness and found the bed table before walking slowly towards it, careful to avoid any obstacles.

Finding the candle with my hand, I struggled to find the matches and then produced a small flickering flame.

Leaning over to the bed, Faramir was in a deep sleep; of course he is, a voice raged, it is the middle of the night, surely you did not expect him to wait for you? Chasing the thought, I could not help but gasp as his reflection by the pale flame made him look utterly handsome, at peace in his sleep: he seemed as though he was a king taking a rest.

He lay under the covers, his face turned to the side. Smiling despite myself, I gently took the book that stood open on his chest and placed it next to the candle, which surprisingly had a small pile of old leather-bounded books. The Warden must have asked someone to bring it to him, I thought.

Thoughtfully, I watched him in his sleep, becoming somewhat hypnotised. He was so perfect, I sighed, the way his hair is spread out underneath the pillow, how his eyes still seemed to be able to see though they were closed. I let out a yawn and felt my body begging me to rest after this overtaxing day.

Letting out a faint girlish gasp as I took a last glance, Faramir began to stir in his sleep. He took a deep breath, the type one usually takes when they first wake, and slowly half-opened his eyes. At first I thought he would just close them again and return to sleep but no, he looked around until he finally found my eyes and a faint smile formed on his lips.

I sat down on the edge of his bed and smiled warmly. "Hello." I said softly.

"Hello." He replied groggily, his grey eyes closing by themselves. "Is it time to get up?" He yawned and placed his head slightly higher on the pillow to have a better look.

Letting out a tired laugh, I shook my head and teased. "It is a few hours until morning, my lord."

"Had a long day then?" He inquired slowly.

"Terribly." I rolled my eyes. "I had to storm off the sickrooms to be able to get a few hours of sleep, we received an entire unit late in the evening and not all were cooperative."

"Yet you still manage to help them?"

"Not of my own intention but as part of my duty." I said bitterly.

Slightly more alert, Faramir looked at me intently. "I've seen you work today, Ariniel and you should be proud of not only your duties but of your talent. I thought you were quite effective and very agile into assessing a person's needs so quickly. It is no wonder that I am doing much better."

Touched that he noticed the littlest things I could not myself, I looked away and wanted to thank him but was unable to.

"I'm sorry for disrupting your sleep." I said, changing the subject. "That was not my intent. I merely wanted to see how you were doing."

"From the piles of books you see on the table, I was entertaining myself with them during the evening. I dearly tried to wait for you but I guess my body thought otherwise." He said before yawning. "It's good that you've come... I was having the worst nightmare…"

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow, my mind growing alert.

He took a deep breath and stared at the flame until his eyes grew hypnotised. "It is the same one that I keep having since my recovery..." He frowned. "And I do not know why but whenever this dream occurs, I wake up fearing for my father... I fear for his well-being... It is hard to explain but it worries me..." His voice trailed off and his eyes stared at the ceiling above. The burning pyre, I dreaded, he still believed the pyre to be a dream or a premonition that was yet to happen, not even realizing that it had happened already. The throb in my head returned and my heart began to race... He is beginning to understand...

"You know what is strange?" Faramir's voice broke my thoughts. He looked at me. "When the page boy arrived with the books, I asked if he had seen the Steward in our residence but the boy did not reply and only stared at me with a most odd expression."

"The Steward is an imposing man." I said in a shaken voice. "A boy of a young age can still be easily frightened by him..." Faramir nodded vaguely and looked away. "As for your dreams... I know, by experience, that our mind can play tricks on us if we worry too much about one thing or another..."

I had grown so familiar that without hesitation I reached for his forehead to see if he had a fever, knowing that it sometime caused nightmares and at worse, delusions. Faramir watched me silently. "No fever." I said casually. My hand then landed on his chest and while ignoring the firmness of his muscles, I measured his heart beat and nodded in satisfaction. "And your heart is on the mends... I'm sure your nightmare will cease in a while..."

Unable to stop, I let out a yawn and covered my mouth... The fatigue was now, more than ever, begging me to get some rest.

"You should get some rest. We both should." Faramir said softly, his face growing tired.

Closing my eyes, I nodded my head. "I do not expect the House quieting down any time soon, I fear..." With a smile, I was about to stand up when he gently grabbed my hand.

"I was meant to ask you earlier but unfortunately I did not get the chance..." He began nervously.

My heart took a plunge. What was he going to ask? I wondered. "Yes?"

"The Host of the West is to leave in a few hours, at dawn." I nodded my head, well aware. "I remember the Garden holds a great view to the East and we will be able to see them marching towards the Black Gates... I will be there and see them ride off and I wondered if you would like to accompany me..." He paused. "Sometimes it is better not to share burdens alone..."

"Of course I will come." I said earnestly with a tired smile, thrilled at the proposal. There is no one else I would rather be with, I wanted to say but refrained myself. "Being there with you will convince me that we shall not be alone, the City will not be as naked as it seems..."

He smiled in relief. "An important day lies ahead of us all... We should take comfort in the friends that we have now and pray for their return..." He gently squeezed my hand and cast me a warm look that meant much more. Completely smitten, I smiled and squeezed back. Yes, tomorrow would be an important day.

Ah! The tension rises! hehehhe!

Next chapter will be getting hotter and hotter as the tension grows stronger and Faramir is near to discovering his father's death.
We will be learning more about this mysterious Berethor and Éowyn will make another appearance in the near future!

I must repeat myself again and declare that i am horrible with Gondorian names so please, don't judge me with coming up with the name Gil-Elm and Berethor... If you must know, i am borrowing the name Berethor from EA who created this hero character in their LOTR games... He has his own story line and everything (kind of a cool story really) and he is meant to be this type of Boromir-Faramir- type of person... For the sake of this story (and for those who are interested), Berethor is meant to look like the bad guy in XXX (with vin diesel) who is played by lotr's own Celeborn, Marton czoskas (or something like that)... I just thought he was yummy in there and the look is totally what i wanted for Berethor! Me and my imagination!

Keep on reviewing and i'll keep on working hard on this fic!

Cheers to all!
Isilmé