A/N: I am very thankful for all of the readers who have decided to read this story of mine, again, if you have any constructive criticism, ways I could improve my writing and characterization, please let me know!

Disclaimer: I do not own or gain profit from any of my work on this website. All recognizable material belongs to the Tolkien Estate.

Truth that doesn't speak isn't truth at all- traditional saying

It had been a moon phase since I had been taken on by Lady Éowyn as a stable hand. It was grueling but lovely work. The ache of my hands and my muscles were welcome. This barn was a place that I would be taken as an independent entity. Here dwelled the Wraithbane, a woman who understood the chafing of the bonds of societal norms. Although, I suppose it was societal norms that allowed me to hear what I heard that day though.

I'd been mucking out the stalls, humming softly to myself, when I had reached the end of the song I was humming. While thinking of another tune, I decided to simply listen. I heard the huffs and the chewing of the animals, but most interesting, two voices, not quiet enough to be suspicious, but not loud enough for my hearing their conversation to be not considered eavesdropping. As the youngest though, eavesdropping was an unabashed vice of mine, and I partook in it.

"Agreed. Tomorrow then?"

"Yes, if you have the knife."

A soft chuckle. "Yes. I have it, sharp as a dragon's tooth, I tell you."

"And you are sure that he will not be able to fight back? He was once a soldier."

"Oh, I am sure. He seems adverse to carrying weapons around, particularly in his study. The closest thing to a weapon he yields there is a particularly heavy wax seal."

"This should be simple enough. The Lady may be a bit of a worry though."

"Oh, don't worry about the Lady, she is never in the house. She is always riding that horse of hers. She'll be fine."

"I don't know…"

"Listen here, we've been planning this for what, a couple months now? We have everything in the bag. And soon we'll have his ransom in it too."

Even though sweat beaded on my forehead and trickled down to the small of my back, my body felt terribly, terribly cold. I had to tell the Lady! I couldn't very well listen to such a plot and not report such a thing! So I set the pitch fork down and quietly slipped out the stall, quickly glancing at the two men, still speaking, quickly cataloging their clothing and general appearance, and snuck out of another exit from the stable.

I came into the sunlit outdoors and the fresh air filled my nostrils. My panic edged off as I took carefully measured steps towards the house of the Lord and Lady.

A guard stood at the front door, and he looked at me with an unreadable face, but I saw his nose twitch. I knew I must have reeked with sweat, but this seemed like critical information and of higher importance than that of propriety in appearance. Or odor.

"What is your business here, girl."

"I must speak to Lady Éowyn or Lord Faramir."

"On what business?"

"Critical."

"I can take a message and send it on."

He seemed sincere in his protection of his lord, but I couldn't chance it. "No, sir, I must speak to them directly."

The guard stared at me. "You have hay in your hair."

I patted my head, pulling off a strand of straw. I refrained from correcting him. "As I said, it is of utmost importance and discretion."

"Yet, as I said, I cannot allow you-"

"What is the cause of this disruption?" a new voice asked from behind the guard.

I snapped my eyes to the unfamiliar voice. It was a tall man with the pale complexion of Gondor. His cheekbones were defined and his hair and brows were as dark as ravens.

Then I made eye contact with the man. The eyes were like a dapple of a dapple gray horse, with darker rings of gray on the outside, dancing around a lighter gray circle around the pupil.

I must have just been staring, for the man repeated his question. "What is the cause of this disruption?"

I swallowed and straightened. "I wished to speak to Lord Faramir."

The man huffed in what I hoped was amusement and not annoyance. "You are speaking to him."

"Oh." My cheeks felt warm and my own skin felt uncomfortable and itching. I was suddenly less inclined to disregard my stench and current appearance. I licked my lips and brought my fidgeting fingers together behind my back. "I've heard- I was mucking out- um, my name is Lavanberia, I am a stable hand, Lady Éowyn she took me on-"

"Yes, I am aware of who you are. What did you wish to speak to me about?"

I forced my burning face to turn to his and sustain eye contact with those dapple gray eyes. "I was mucking out the stalls and I-" My throat felt tight, with worry, with shame, with panic, I know not. I cleared my throat and coughed a bit. "I heard two men, they were speaking, they-" I couldn't keep looking at Lord Faramir anymore, I stared at a large green bush. "They spoke of, I think they were speaking of a plan to- speaking of a plan to abduct you, sir."

I again dragged my eyes back to Lord Faramir's. They were dark with disappointment. He nodded gravely. "Did you see who the men were? What exactly did they say?"

"They both had dark hair, they were tall, one was svelte, though not as if starved, the other was broader, but not terribly so. The lithe one wore a green or a blue tunic and the other wore a dark cloak. They spoke of having the weapons, and if they should worry about the Lady, and that you…" It somehow seemed disrespectful to repeat what they said next.

"Go on."

I squeezed my eyes shut and said, "They said that you didn't arm yourself and that the most weaponlike thing you had in your study was a wax sealer."

I wrenched open an eyelid to see the Lord Faramir gazing at me intently. "You did good to come and speak to me. I thank you for that." He turned to the guard by the door, "Go fetch Beregond and bring him to me." The guard nodded and ran off. Lord Faramir turned back to me. "Thank you, I may have more questions later, but in the meantime, you may get yourself some water and sit, you seem to have had an awful fright."

I nodded and watched the lord go.

He did have more questions for me, and in the end, after much questioning and what seemed like a mock trial of sorts, he sent four of the White Company along with the two conspirators to a jail within Minas Tirith, so that the King could later judge them and give them their sentences. As it turned out, the two were Lord Faramir's scribe and a gardener.

It was many days after this that the Lady Éowyn came up to me and told me that she had spoken to Faramir, and that they would like to meet my scholarly inclined brother for the potential role as Faramir's new scribe. (Note that it was the Lady Éowyn who so casually mentioned Lord Faramir's name and not I). I had replied that I was honored that she recalled our first conversation and that she suggested my brother as a possible candidate. I also assured her that Idhangoll would be euphoric upon harkening to the message.