The riders of Rohan and the brothers of Gondor rested after their day of riding, hunting, then feasting as they made their way south. But while the fire that the Rohirrim had set in camp warmed Faramir, it did not comfort him.

He found the melancholy face of Lady Eowyn haunting him. Had it been only a few nights since she had laughed aloud and danced with him?

He recalled only the morning before.

"Leave? So soon?" the lady of Rohan had asked in a low voice.

"Yes, my lady," Boromir had replied. "Gondor calls, and we have pleasantly accomplished the renewal of our friendships. But fear not," Boromir had said hastily, seeing her fallen face, "we will not forget our friends."

A sad, slow smile answered Boromir. Eomer had leaned over and kissed Eowyn on the cheek, promising with a smile not to leave her alone for long.

And Faramir had paced the halls of Meduseld, unable to sleep. He had watched the lady carefully at the meal, and could discern her disappointment. Perhaps she had been looking forward to a marriage. But then, they had not been given permission to court her. He pondered.



Then he had passed the library, unconsciously at first, then realizing that he hoped to meet Lady Eowyn there, as he often had before. He was not disappointed. After opening the door, he beheld her sorrow.

Unable to receive a reply to inquiries he had finally asked earnestly, "If there is anything I may do to alleviate your distress, my Lady, please but tell me!"

Sadly she had shaken her head. Still mute.

"I am sorry, my lady," Faramir had replied, "I have been too forward and will leave you now." He made to withdraw.

At this, she shook her head.

Faramir then was aghast, truly not knowing what to do.

As though unbidden words rushed out of her, "I wish I could ride with you out of here."

Not knowing or caring if the 'you' was singular, or plural, Faramir took a few steps toward her, passionate despite himself, "That is not necessary, for you are safe. Especially now."

She shook her head again. Tears pouring down her face anew.



"Would you not then speak of what I may do? For I cannot leave you in such distress."

She was silent.

Faramir stood immobile, frustrated yet knowing the bounds of propriety that kept him from inquiring further. Yet boldly he chose to give her the only comfort he was able, and stepping toward her, laid a hand on her bowed head. Speaking gently into her ear, he had whispered. "I am sorry. So very sorry."

*

"You fancy her, don't you?"

Faramir's head raised at the sound of his brother's voice, "Who?"

"The lady?"

"There would be something wrong with me if I did not!" Faramir attempted a laugh.

"Brother . .." Boromir warned.

Faramir threw a stick into the fire, "I am afraid that perhaps we treated her ill," he admitted.

"Ill? We weren't permitted to court her! And there was, and still is I might add, a hope that permission may be granted. It is not as though we gave her attention knowing we were not free, as men sometimes do when they are pledged to another. With her, marriage is a real possibility." He took a drink, "Surely there was no disappointment!"

"I suppose not," Faramir shook his head. "Nevertheless, I feel there was some hope that we frustrated."

Boromir looked sharply at his brother now, "You know this for certain?"

Faramir did not answer, but took a breath, "Brother, after we return to Gondor, I believe that I will pursue this with Father."

"Then you do fancy her," Boromir stated quietly.

"We cannot leave her there," was Faramir's reply.

Boromir laid a hand on his shoulder, and said gently, "But she is not our responsibility, only her family's. If that wormfool worries you, know that if he makes a wrong move, my wrath will smite him!"

"Even when you are so far away?" Faramir's eyebrows rose.

Boromir's silence conceded the point.

"I wish to pursue it," Faramir repeated softly.

"Then I, little brother," Boromir patted his arm, "will help you."