Hi everyone! I know you all absolutely hate me by now, but it wasn't my fault. I am sooooooooooo sorry that I haven't updated in a really long time, but I know you don't want to hear my pitiful excuses. To sum up the whole reason for the delay of the tenth chapter, one word will suffice. Midterms *shudder*. I hope this chapter will be up to snuff, but if not, blame my cruel teachers for turning my brain into road kill (and nuclear jelloJ ). Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, thank you for your awesome ideas, and most of all, thank you for your support and encouragement. And now on to the next chapter!

Disclaimer: Whoever invented these thing, I would like to come after them with a scythe and hack at their pitiful forms while they are asleep *maniacal grin*. None of this is mine. I bow to the Tolkien.

The House of Elrond

"Bilbo!" Pippin sprang forward, happiness plain in his smile at seeing a familiar face. Eowyn shakily sat up, laughing as Pippin almost knocked the older hobbit over. Pippin had not seen another hobbit in so long, times being as hard as they were.

"Hello, my dear boy. My you have grown since last I laid eyes upon you!" The two hobbits merrily talked, completely oblivious to their other companions. Gandalf shook his head as he turned away from the pair.

"I would discuss things now, but one of our number is wounded and needs attention immediately." As the wizard stepped aside, Lord Elrond noticed Eowyn for the first time. He knelt next to her and put a hand to her forehead as he closed his eyes.

"Three broken ribs," he said, finally straightening, "as well as a good deal of damaged pride. That at least comes from being dragged along on this contraption." Two more elves appeared and gently lifted Eowyn from the litter. She tried to protest, but was silenced by a look from Aragorn. They made a comical group with Eowyn glowering as the two elves bore her away to a healer.

"Come. There is much to discuss." Lord Elrond turned on his heel and walked towards a door on the far side of the courtyard. Gandalf, Aragorn, and the two hobbits followed, Pippin now utterly silent as he realized where he was. It all started here, in this courtyard so long ago.

**********

Light poured in through a window high above, slightly illuminating the drab, gray walls of the cell. A huddled shape in the corner stirred. Faramir was only just coming to when his cell door was opened by an extremely ugly Orc.

"Ge' up." The guard poked him roughly with the butt of his spear. With a groan, Faramir dragged himself to his feet. The guard grunted his approval and gestured for the man to follow him. There was no point in arguing. He'd probably just stick me with that spear. But as Faramir thought this, he wondered for the hundredth time why he wasn't already dead. The Dark Lord could have easily disposed of him because of his refusal to cooperate. What does he want with me? They reached the end of the corridor and walked out into the sunlight. Sunlight. No, it couldn't be! The sun hadn't shone for so long. It was not a strong light, more like a cloth had been draped over a lamp. But it was there, just the same, a slight improvement to the generally orange, red, or deep purple skies he had become accustomed to. Continuing on, Faramir realized that they were headed for the tower. He swallowed hard, and started mentally preparing himself for what he knew was in store. The aftermath of Arwin's death was still a shock to him. Though he had only met her after being taken captive by the Dark Lord, they had shared a connection through the ring and those who had sworn to protect it. By letting Frodo go on, by refusing the ring for yourself and for Gondor, this bound you to the Alliance. You are now a part of a far greater web. He blinked back tears, remembering her limp body being consumed by the mile-high flames. The creak of the heavy black doors jarred his thoughts. He needed to have his wits about him for this.

The Orc looked uneasily around, and then turned and exited, leaving Faramir utterly alone. He hesitantly walked towards the staircase, knowing that Merry, or rather, the Dark Lord could be lurking in any one of the shadows that played across the walls. He climbed the staircase, every step sending a chill through his whole body. Not necessarily making him cold, but the kind of feverish chill that promises unbearable heat.

At last, he stepped into the familiar room, circular with small, eerily glowing lamps hanging from the walls.

"Show yourself, you coward," he hissed, not feeling as brave as his words. A low cackle sounded throughout the room. Faramir backed up until his back hit the wall.

"Ah, afraid, are we?" The voice was not coming form anywhere, and yet he could hear it everywhere at once. Or maybe it is in my head. The laugh once again, only louder this time, made him cover his ears. The agony of the voice was slicing through his heart. He could no longer take the pain.

"Kill me, why do you not just kill me?" he spoke weakly as he slid slowly to the ground. Once again, there was that laugh, and Merry appeared out of nowhere. He looked worse than Faramir had ever seen him, as though every second the Dark Lord possessed him cost him five years of his life. The lights on the walls played off his deathly pale skin, and gave his eyes a sunken, hollow look. He faced Faramir, seemingly having an internal battle with himself. But it was not his voice that finally spoke.

"Kill you? What good would that do me? No, you shall suffer long and hard, until I know where the rest are."

"I've already told you! I do not know of whom you speak!" suddenly, Faramir was lifted from the ground and then thrown to the floor. He lay there, bruised and bleeding, as Merry surveyed him coldly.

"Maybe he is telling the truth, could he possibly not know the location of the others? No, he must know, they are all connected. But what if he really doesn't? We could use all the slaves we can get, why not put him to work in the mines? Only because he does not know anything. There will be others" Merry's head jerked up as he realized Faramir was listening to him mumble to himself. He pointed a finger at the stairs, and Faramir got to his feet as quickly as he could, though he was shaking violently, and sped out into the sunlight.

Short, yes, but there shall be more tomorrow because I have no homework this weekend. Yay! The tenth chapter! I can't believe I have been working on this fic for so long. More tomorrow!