"Faramir? Hello, Faramir? Anybody home?" Beregond waved his hand in front of the steward's face. Faramir sat stiffly on his horse, probably feeling every bump in the road, his gaze fixed on his horses neck, which he didn't see. Instead, he saw a woman, a beautiful one. Beautiful? Try gorgeous! Ah, Éowyn. "Hello?! FARAMIR?!" Beregond almost shouted.

"Huh? What-oh it's just you, Beregond," Faramir started.

"Oh, don't I feel loved," Beregond grumbled.

"I'm sorry. It's just that I was thinking."

"So I noticed. Do you realize that I've been calling your name for the past, oh maybe twenty minutes?!"

"Sorry. What do want?"

"I wanted to tell you to relax because otherwise you are going to be one big bruise in the morning and to stop worrying about whether the White Lady has forgotten you or not, I doubt she has."

Faramir winced. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes."

"I had hoped it wasn't-"

"Well, it is," Beregond interrupted.

Faramir glared at his friend. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I had hoped that it wasn't quite so obvious because if an unobservant person such as yourself noticed, then the Lady surely will, she never misses a thing." Faramir stuck his nose in the air, feigning snobbyness. Beregond chuckled at the prince's actions, actions that were identical to those of some of the nobles Beregond had seen.

"Anyways, how could the Lady not remember you? You are hardly a person to forget."

"I haven't seen her in years! If she remembers me, and I'm not saying she does, she probably thinks that I'm some little stuck-up, pompous, noble- born brat!"

Beregond snorted. "I doubt that! Since when have you ever shown any sign of acting like that? Never. Now, maybe your bro- never mind." Beregond cut himself of quickly.

"Hm? You would say 'Now, maybe your brother' what?"

"Sorry my lord," Beregond lapsed into respect. "There was no need to say that. I shouldn't speak ill of the dead."

"No, you shouldn't, but finish what you were going to say."

"Well, my lord," Beregond said slowly. "I was saying that maybe your brother might have made Éowyn think that he was like that. He was like that sometimes too. You are very different from Boromir, sir."

"Drop the 'my lord' and 'sir' please, Beregond. You know I don't like that. And it's not like someone who should hear my titles is going to hear them out here."

"Yes, sir," Beregond said, grinning wickedly.

Faramir sighed. This was going to be a long day with Beregond teasing him for all of it. They, and a company of men, were riding to Edoras with a message from the king. The message informed the king of Rohan that the king of Gondor would be coming for a visit soon. Faramir, being himself, was nervous at the thought of seeing Éowyn after five years of being parted. Dreams, nightmares rather, had plagued him constantly. Constantly without any letup. In the dreams Faramir was rejected over and over by Éowyn or she confessed that she had never loved him and never would. a/n: they dream alike don't they ^ ^ Beregond, however, was confident that Éowyn would not hate Faramir and tried to convince his friend that this was true. Faramir refused to believe him.

***

The doors of Edoras opened to reveal the steward of Gondor and his company of men. Faramir spared a brief glance around, his eyes landing on a certain woman.and he wrenched himself away before he could get so tongue tied and nervous that he would make a fool of himself. "Éomer King!" Faramir cried. "I bring word from the King Elessar! He and the Queen Evenstar are to be riding here for a visit in two weeks if you would be so kind as to receive them. I was instructed to notify you that they would love to stay for as long as you were willing to share your hospitality!" probably really crappy, but I suck at the heraldic stuff

"Very well. Send a messenger back to your king telling him that he and his wife may stay as long as they would like to. As for the rest of your company, please follow Hamrond strange name huh. He will escort you to your quarters where you may stay until your king arrives." Éomer led Faramir away after the rest as they departed. In an tone that was meant for Faramir's ears only, "I hate all of that formality." He added, smiling, "Follow me. The prince of Ithilion would usually be quartered in our guest quarters as an esteemed guest, and not with his soldiers. This way." Éomer led Faramir down one hallway, through another, and by the time they stopped, Faramir was thoroughly and completely lost. "Here," Éomer said, pulling out a ring of keys. "If this is acceptable, then you are welcome to stay here, friend." Éomer unlocked the door and pushed it open to reveal as luxurious a room as Faramir could want.

"It's fine," Faramir said.

"Then, I must take my leave of you. If you need anything, then don't hesitate to call a servant." Éomer turned and walked back to his throne room, leaving Faramir to his thoughts.

Faramir walked into his new room and sighed, closing the door behind him. As was usual for Faramir when he was left alone, his thoughts turned to Éowyn. She probably doesn't even remember me. Who would? I am and always have been just the second son of the steward of Gondor. Second in everything to my brother Boromir.

***

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