A/N: Sorry to keep everyone waiting. This would have been up sooner, but my beta Avalon was very busy with her classes. I guess I can forgive her. The action doesn't start yet, but there's plenty of angst, mystery, and a little romance to go around.
Chapter 1
"Boromir!"
Faramir was jolted awake by the sound of his own voice. His breath came out in fast, uneven gasps and his entire body was shaking from the tension in every muscle. He sat straight up in bed and placed his head in his hands. His body felt frozen from the inside, yet he felt the sweat from his brow trickle between his fingers. The prince of Ithilien could feel the bed shift as Eowyn awoke beside him. The former shield maiden of Rohan was shocked to see her husband's face had turned white, even in the dark room, and his eyes were clouded.
"My love?" She whispered, taking a cold, clammy hand between her own. "Are you well? Should I send for a healer?"
"No!" Faramir answered a little too quickly. He took a deep breath and began again, slower this time. "No, my lady. I shall be all right shortly. It was only a nightmare."
"It must have been quite the nightmare then," Eowyn replied as she reached for a glass and the basin of water by their bedside.
Faramir managed a weak smile as he gratefully took the offered glass of water from his wife with trembling hands. For several minutes he said nothing, concentrating solely on taking small sips of the water and recomposing himself. Eowyn rubbed his back lightly, reassuringly, and allowed her husband the time he needed to regain his composure. When the glass was finally empty, Faramir turned back to Eowyn and gave her a warm smile.
"My thanks, Eowyn," He murmured as he softly kissed her lips.
Eowyn smiled. "Are you ready to speak now, or would you prefer to keep this to yourself?"
Despite the exhaustion that encompassed his body, Faramir managed a rueful grin. "Somehow, I get the feeling that if I did not talk, you would find a way to force me to."
Eowyn laughed lightly, but made no move to defend herself. Why would she? It was the truth after all. She gave her husband a brief kiss on the cheek and sat back with her eyes locked on his.
"Now talk."
The smile faded from Faramir's face as the memories of the nightmare returned. He turned his face away from his wife's and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
"I saw my brother," He replied solemnly, only half noticing the sympathetic look that Eowyn was giving him. "Or rather, I saw his ghost."
Eowyn gathered one of his hands in both of hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Did he do anything or did you simply see him?"
"He spoke to me," Faramir shuddered, remembering how Boromir's words had turned his blood to ice. "He warned me about an army of darkness rising from the blood of darkness passed. He also said that the souls of light have been turned to darkness and now walk among us. Alas, for I have no idea what he means."
"Did he say anything else?" Eowyn prompted, for she could tell that her husband was holding something extremely painful within his memories.
Faramir remained silent, and for many minutes it looked as though he would keep his silence. Long moments passed until the Prince of Ithilien let out a sigh of defeat. The memory was too painful to keep inside.
"Yes," He whispered softly. "Yes, he said more. He said that his soul was in danger, though he did not specifically say why. It was something about being hunted by a shadow of the past. He said that they must not get what was left behind."
"Your brother spoke in riddles," Eowyn frowned.
Faramir grimaced. "Yes, something that he never did when he lived. Boromir was always straight forward and blunt when he spoke. That he would start speaking in riddles confuses me to no end."
"Did he say anything more?"
"No," Faramir shuddered. "He said 'They must not get what was left behind.' and then he was pulled away from me by force. As soon as he was gone, I awoke. I do not understand what he wants me to do."
"How do you know that you are supposed to do anything?" Eowyn gave her husband a hard stare. "For all that you know this may have simply been a bad dream and nothing more."
"This was no dream, my love," Faramir replied gently. "I sense that there was truth in what I saw. The last time I felt such a thing was four years ago when I dreamt of my brother's fall. Eowyn, this was no mere dream, but a vision. Boromir's spirit wants me to do something about this growing darkness."
"How do you even know it was Boromir who spoke to you?" Eowyn interjected. "You said yourself that he spoke plainly while he lived, not in riddles. How do you know it was not another trying to lure you into doing something foolish?"
"It was Boromir," Faramir sharply interrupted her. "Until that day four years ago, my brother has been in my life since the moment I was born. When our mother died, he was the one who took care of me. I have always been able to feel his presence, even if we were on opposite ends of Minas Tirith. I could sense wisps of what he was doing or feeling. I can not fully understand it, let alone explain it, but I know it was him. I could feel in every corner of my being that it was Boromir. You must believe me, my love."
The Lady of Ithilien sighed and sat back. "I will not pretend to understand these senses you have, but I believe you."
Smiling, Faramir pulled his wife into an embrace and kissed her full on the lips. "That is all I could ever ask for, my love. Now if only I could figure out what Boromir was trying to say. I can not make any sense out of it."
"Perhaps sleep will clear your mind."
"No," There was no mirth in his weak chuckle. "After that vision, I do not believe that I will be able to voluntarily sleep again for a long time. Besides, my mind is too full of unanswered questions now."
"Is there anyone you can talk to who might understand the meaning of your vision?"
Faramir sighed and ran a hand through his tangled hair. "The only ones who I have ever felt comfortable discussing my visions with were Boromir and my father. A lot of good that does me now."
Eowyn's face brightened with a sudden idea and then fell again. This did not go unnoticed by Faramir's eyes.
"You have thought of someone, my love?"
"I have," Eowyn hesitated. "And yet I am reluctant to say it."
"Who?"
Eowyn looked away as she spoke. "I thought of King Elessar."
Faramir was positively beaming. "Of course! Why did I not think of the king before? He was raised among elves, so he may be used to hearing about prophetic dreams. He also has great insight on the workings of a Man's mind. What is more, he was there when Boromir took his last breath. Perhaps my brother's last moments may hold some key to unraveling this mystery. Eowyn, you are a genius! And yet you did not wish to tell me. Why?"
Eowyn could feel the moisture sting her eyes as she spoke. "Because knowing that King Elessar might help you would mean that you would have to leave."
"I see," Faramir's face fell. With the utmost care, he pulled his wife into his arms and stroked her hair. "You are right. I must go to Minas Tirith to find my answers, though I do not wish to part from either of you."
He placed a kiss on the top of his wife's head as he reached down to lovingly stroke the growing bulge beneath her nightgown. Within her, their first child had reached the sixth month of its development. Even now, Faramir was still shocked by the fact that he would become a father within the year. Every day he would shower his wife with affection and spend all of his free hours sitting with her, his hands upon the warm mound. He had made sure that his duties as Prince of Ithilien did not take him away from his wife for more than a few days and so he was loathe leaving her side for any long period of time. A trip to Minas Tirith would definitely count as a long period of time away from Eowyn.
"So you are going?" Eowyn sighed as she placed her hand over his atop her belly.
"You know that I must. Elessar may be the only one who can help. I will leave in the morning to find my answers as soon as possible and will not be gone for more than a week."
"It will be a week too long," Eowyn sighed. "But I can not stop you. I would join you in a heartbeat, but I do not wish to harm our child by riding."
"Eowyn," Faramir chuckled. "I am sure that riding would not injure our child this far along in its development. If it would make you feel any better, I will seek out some mothers while in Minas Tirith and ask them if riding is safe during the late months of pregnancy. I do not wish your passion of riding to diminish because of our child. I shudder every time I think of you sitting home when your heart desires to be racing through Ithilien on horseback."
"Thank you, my love," Eowyn sighed contentedly and leaned her head back on Faramir's shoulder, falling asleep instantly.
Faramir sighed as he watched his wife sleeping peacefully and wished that he could join her. But his meeting with Boromir's ghost had shaken him to the core. Shifting Eowyn and himself into a more comfortable position, the Prince of Ithilien sat back and let his mind begin to sort itself out.
* * *
Where am I?
That single question ran over and over in Aragorn's mind as he walked. He was in some sort of cave, judging from the stone tunnels that surrounded him. The trickling of water droplets falling against the stone floor echoed all around him, indicating that it was a very large and deep cave. But where this cave was located and how far underground remained a mystery.
And so he randomly picked a direction and began to walk. He had no idea if it was the way out, but Aragorn trusted his ranger instincts. Little did Aragorn know that he was actually going deeper into the caverns. It was not until he was surrounded in complete darkness that the former ranger decided that perhaps the other way would have been the better choice. He was about to double back when a low, faint whisper blew past his ear.
"Aragorn."
He spun around, eyes searching for the whisper's source, but only saw darkness. Though his senses were far more acute than a normal Man, he could pick up no trace of another living being in the dark; or for that matter, the walls of the cave. He groped about in the darkness for some trace of the rough stone walls to make his way out, but his hands only met with empty air. Aragorn forced a growing sense of panic back into a remote corner of his mind. The first rule of a ranger was not to panic. Panic led to mistakes and mistakes led to death.
A sudden chill passed over Aragorn, as if he had suddenly been plunged into icy water. He could see his breath form a thin vaporous cloud as he exhaled and could feel his teeth begin to chatter.
And then he heard breathing that was not his own.
Aragorn spun around wildly, but still saw nothing else within the black void. Again, he pushed away the desire to panic. Someone or something was here with him and panicking would not help him figure out its identity.
"Aragorn."
He heard the whisper again, this time from a little ways in front of him. A sudden urge to walk forward came over him. Aragorn tried to resist, but found his legs moving on their own accord. He heard his name whispered again on his left and his feet automatically changed direction to follow it. His whispered name repeated over and over, leading his body to some unknown destination.
As he walked, Aragorn could feel the chill around his body increase. He was surprised to discover that he could move his hands to rub heat into his frozen arms. Apparently, only his legs were not under his control. As the cold grew stronger, Aragorn could see that the path he walked was beginning to get lighter. Ahead in the distance, he could make out a faint blue and white glow. As the light grew closer, Aragorn finally realized what was happening. The voice was leading him out of the cave.
It would be just my luck if this cave leads me directly to the very peak of Caradhras. Aragorn silently grimaced as he breathed on his fingers to warm them from the biting cold.
He walked on. The light grew and the cold became worse until finally he was standing in the mouth of the cave. But what he saw did not make any sense. Judging from the cold, Aragorn had assumed he was somewhere on a mountain top. Instead, he found himself at the bottom of a deep ravine in the middle of the night. Sheer rock faces dotted with caverns surrounded him on every side. All along the base of each wall, Aragorn could see pairs of rusting manacles. Tentatively, he reached out to touch one.
An invisible force suddenly pulled him back sharply with a harsh whisper of "No!"
Aragorn fell back and closed his eyes as he hit the ground. When he opened his eyes again, he was met with a horrific sight. The ravine, once bathed in gentle moonlight, was now wreathed in flames. Dark fire poured through every crack and crevice, yet Aragorn felt no heat. Rather, it felt like he was being frozen from the inside out. Screams and moans of agony and despair drowned out the roar of the fires surrounding him. Aragorn soon understood why.
The rusted old manacles that lined the cavernous walls were no longer empty.
Instead, each and every pair held the arms of tortured Men. Their feeble garments had been torn and soiled until they did nothing but cover the bare essentials of each. Blood flowed freely from their gaping wounds. Aragorn had to force himself not to retch at the site. He desperately looked around for something to focus on that was not a tortured prisoner, but he soon discovered there was no escaping it. All around him, as far as the eye could see, were broken and screaming Men. Aragorn's eyes came to rest on the nearest prisoner who had blood running rivers down his bent back. He reached out his hand, as if such an offer would heal the hideous wounds. But he recoiled in shock when the prisoner suddenly looked up at him.
No! This can not be! It is not possible!
It was Hama, a Rohirrim guard slain at the Battle of Helm's deep, who Aragorn had met when he, Gandalf, Legolas, and Gimli had first come to Edoras. But it could not have been him. Hama had died four years ago. Aragorn had been there when his body was laid to rest outside Helm's Deep. That the young soldier could be a prisoner, or even alive for that matter, was completely impossible.
Aragorn turned his face from the site of the dead Rohirrim, only to meet the eyes of another prisoner; King Theoden of Rohan. Aragorn backed away in horror from the dead King's hollow eyes. He turned again and found himself surrounded by soldiers of Gondor that lost their lives while fighting beside him in front of Sauron's black gates.
"No!" Aragorn gasped as he began running desperately to escape the endless rows of prisoners. "They are all dead! They can not be here! What is this madness? Someone tell me!"
Flames suddenly leapt up in front of Aragorn, forcing him onto the ground. Dazed, he shut his eyes to the world as it seemed to rotate around him. Opening them again, Aragorn was shocked to see that the ravine was once more silent and lit only by the pale moonlight above. Turning his head to the manacles lining the walls, Aragorn saw that they were all empty again.
"What was that?" Aragorn muttered to himself. "What is this place? Where am I?"
"Look up," Came the same whispered voice, carried by a wisp of freezing air, past his ear.
Turning his eyes skyward, Aragorn saw a dark shadow blocking part of the moon from view. It appeared to be a tall, narrow tower of some sort. Yet it seemed hauntingly familiar to Aragorn. The moon behind the tower began to lift higher into the night sky until its light reflected off the tower's front. Aragorn gasped in realization.
It was Orthanc.
"So what does this mean?" Aragorn called out into the empty ravine. "If that is Orthanc, than I must be in the caverns of Isengard. But why? What is happening in this forsaken place?"
"Aragorn."
The whispered voice was louder this time. Aragorn suddenly found it vaguely familiar.
"Show me who you are," The former ranger's voice echoed throughout the cavern. "Let me see who has brought me to Isengard and shown me such horrors."
"Aragorn," The voice became clearer and Aragorn suddenly jumped with sudden recognition. "Aragorn, you must be careful."
Aragorn spun around and found himself face to face with the last person he expected.
"…Boromir…"
Boromir looked upon his former comrade with solemn eyes. "My time here is short," As Boromir spoke, his body began to fade away. "Head my warning, Aragorn. Darkness is coming. I am sorry."
And then he was gone. Aragorn found himself alone once more in the caverns of Isengard.
"Boromir? Boromir!"
Aragorn suddenly found himself lying in his own bed, sweating and panting. Beside him, Arwen awoke and placed a gentle hand against his rough cheek.
"Estel, you are trembling. What have you seen in your dreams?"
"Many things," Aragorn shook the last remains of sleep from his head. "I saw Boromir and horrors within the caverns of Isengard. I believe he was trying to warn me of evil forming beneath Orthanc."
"Is not Orthanc still under the guard of the Ents?"
"It was the last time I rode past there. Yet I can not help but worry."
Arwen sat up and stared at her husband, searching his face for something unknown. "Estel, I know very well that when you start worrying your mood affects all. I for one would not like to see all of the staff depressed because of you. So what are you going to do to cease these worries and save us all from your depression?"
"I do not become that depressed!" Aragorn mock glared at his wife. "But I will try to do something to alleviate these worries. I shall send a message to Éomer this very night,"
The King of Gondor grunted as he got out of bed and sat at his writing desk. "I will ask him to send a patrol up to Isengard to make sure that all is well. That should settle things. I pray to Valar that what I have seen in my dreams was simply a nightmare and nothing more."
"And yet that will not mollify your fears," Arwen said matter-of-factly as she got out of the bed to join him. "You seek answers now."
Aragorn gave his wife a tired smile. "You know me too well."
"Of coarse I know you too well, my love," Arwen smiled as she rubbed her fingers in soothing circles against his temples. "Remember that I have known you since you were a stubborn little child who could barely see over the table in the dining hall."
Aragorn chuckled. "In case you failed to notice, I have grown up quite a bit since then."
"Physically, you have. Yet there are times when you still think like a child," she gave her husband a quick kiss. "I find it very charming."
He chuckled again and took one of his wife's hands in his own. "Thank you, my dearest Arwen. That small bit of mirth you have shared with me has lightened my mind considerably. Yet I can not shake all of the darkness I felt in that dream."
"Speak to someone of this dream, my love. If not me, then someone else that may understand," As she spoke, Arwen headed back to bed. "Rest, Estel."
"I shall come to bed later," Aragorn muttered. "For now, I must think."
And so the Queen of Gondor fell back to sleep while her husband sat in silence, pondering all that he had seen.
A/N: The plot thickens. What did Boromir mean? The answers are coming, but not for another chapter or two. Coming up; Faramir journeys to Minas Tirith and is joined by some unexpected, but welcome company.
