Wow I updated! February must be getting to me. The shortest month of the year, yet it feels like the longest.

Reviewer responses

Callie3= Sorry, but I love Faramir to much to change him…a lot.

Arahiril= whoa, you just made me realize that I didn't answer how they got the ice. I had planned on doing that but the story got away from me. So ATTENTION ALL READERS! The ice comes from a deep cave in which the people store ice for the summer. Maybe I'll write a short story or poem explaining that. Thanks for bringing that to my attention.

arwen's-light= Well, Aragorn could have known but to my knowledge Tolkien never said, so I just say he didn't. Hope you don't mind.

Selina= Glad you like my stories. I love Faramir/Éowyn stories a lot as well. I really missed their scenes together in the movie. *pouts*

Thanks to Alex92, mai, Kathryn Angelle, and Lydia2 for reviewing!

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Fighting

            Lord Elrond scowled at the tall, blond Imladris elf. Unaffected by Elrond's daunting glare, Glorfindel did not relent. "My lord, the horses need to rest. We are already pushing them to their limits. And you are still not completely recovered from the Mirror."

            Sighing, Elrond knew his advisor was right. The horses needed rest, and though it aggravated him, so did he. Even with the little drugged sleep Galadriel had forced on him, the incident with the Mirror had drained the elf lord's strength considerably. Still glowering, Elrond assented to Glorfindel's suggestion. After taking care of his horse, the lord of Imladris folded his arms and sat down beneath a tree. Closing his eyes, Elrond's mind took him to the terrible vision. Visualizing the unknown town, he used the surroundings to place the location of his sons. //We are still so far. I am needed, I can feel it. Yet I am helpless to do anything! Curse you Galadriel, how dare you keep me from my son!// Elrond hit the back of his head against the tree. "Ouch." He rubbed his head, having hit it harder than he had intended.

            Glorfindel watched his friend and lord worriedly. The journey to Gondor had been harder than anticipated. He and Elrond had nearly stumbled into a small band of orcs, saved from a confrontation only by their quiet horses and elvish senses. Not only that, but Elrond was in an incredibly bad mood. Most of Caras Galadhon had heard the elf lord when he had woken up from his unwilling sleep. The blonde elf could not blame his lord for his worry, though, especially after learning what Elrond had seen in Galadriel's Mirror. Both Glorfindel and his wife Eluial had been very fond of Tirpalandil during his time at Rivendell. //He's Faramir now. Ai, it is still hard to believe that the little boy who wouldn't speak is now the Steward of Gondor.// Glorfindel sighed again as he saw Elrond hit his head against the tree. Walking over, he sat down next to the dark-haired elf. "Elrond, mellonim." Glorfindel paused, then grabbed his friend by the shoulders. "Get a hold on yourself! You cannot change anything by worrying, and you certainly cannot help Tir by attacking that poor tree!" Letting go of the startled elf lord, Glorfindel smiled. "Furthermore, it is common knowledge that he attracts injuries like light attracts moths. He has survived before, he is strong enough to survive whatever happens."

            The blonde elf's speech had no effect on Elrond. "I saw him *die* Glorfindel! In all my years, I have never foreseen the death of one of my family. I did not foresee Celebrían's passing, nor Arwen's choice of mortality."

            "That does not mean that Tir will die. The future is always changing with each choice that is made. No one can truly know what will happen. We must trust that the Valar will protect him until we get there, or pray that someone else will help him." Glorfindel patted Elrond on the shoulder before rising. "Now get some sleep. I will keep watch."

            Elrond watched his old friend walk away and bit back another sigh. //I do not *want* to sleep. I want to help my son!// Unfortunately, his body *did* want to sleep and against his will, Elrond's eyes glazed over as he wandered in the world of elven dreams. Still, his mind was never far from the son who was even then fighting for his life.

~*~

            Faramir felt himself sinking into the depths of the dark ocean. His mind wandered into darkness and hope had left him long ago. Only the memory of the beautiful woman dressed in white kept him from giving up completely. Her name eluded him, but he knew that she wanted him to stay, didn't want him sinking to bottom of the sea. But he was tired, so tired. He couldn't keep afloat; it was so hard to breathe.

Suddenly the dark storm clouds were pushed away by a bright, red light. For a moment, Faramir was blinded and he struggled to blink away the glare.

Faramir.

Who was that? Someone was calling to him again, not the woman, but still someone familiar.

Son of Denethor, it is not your time yet.

//Who are you? Why can't you leave me in peace?// Strangely enough, the voice found that amusing.

Young one, if I leave you here the kings of the two most powerful lands in Middle Earth will have my hide for their rug. Not to mention what Lady Éowyn would do to me.

That name. It was the name of the woman in white. //Éowyn?//

The voice chuckled. Yes, Faramir. She is waiting for you. You have given her quite a scare.

Memories started coming back to him. //Mithrandir? Is that you?// Though the voice did not answer, Faramir could sense that the wizard was nodding. //Mithrandir, I cannot return, it is cold and I do not have the strength.//

You have the strength, son of Elrond. the red light glowed brighter and Faramir felt it warm him from the inside, like hot soup on a snowy day. Come now. They are waiting.

Gathering what strength he had left, Faramir fought against the dark waves, while the crimson glow burned a path trough the darkness. He felt the light grow hotter almost to the point that it was unbearable. Pain laced through Faramir's side and his head swam from the intense heat. It hurt, it hurt so much he couldn't see straight.

Push back the pain, young one. Do not let it stop you.

Fatigue and agony threatened to drag him down again, but Faramir fought. He fought for himself, for his family, for Éowyn. Finally he reached the end, the light was blinding, the heat blistering, but still he pushed on. //I am coming.// With his last ounce of strength, Faramir threw himself forward in a desperate attempt to live.

~*~

            Éowyn watched helplessly as her beloved Faramir's face twisted in pain. His hands tightly gripped the blankets as the red light from Gandalf's Ring grew brighter. Soon those inside the tent had to shield their eyes from the crimson glow.

            All at once, the light disappeared, seemingly sucked back into the Ring of Power. Gandalf sank back into his chair as Faramir's body went limp. The silence was deafening, and Éowyn realized, to her horror, that she could no longer hear Faramir gasping for air. Before she could do anything, however, Aragorn was by his brother's side, smiling with relief. When Éowyn had calmed herself she saw the steady rise and fall of Faramir's chest. He was alive, alive! All the tension, all the fear, seemed to melt out of her and Éowyn laid her head next to her betrothed. Taking his hand in hers, the exhausted Éowyn finally smiled as she fell asleep to the steady pulse of Faramir's heart.

~*~

Aragorn did not know how long he just sat there, watching his brother. The ice had brought down Faramir's fever, and though still pale, Aragorn could see life returning to him. The King of Gondor looked at Gandalf who had not moved from his chair, still tired from the healing. The old wizard had saved his brother, yet Aragorn did not know how to express his thanks. No words seemed to feel right. So Aragorn simply said, "Thank you." And Gandalf knew what he meant and smiled.

Éomer was the first to move. Covering his sleeping sister with a blanket, the King of Rohan turned to Aragorn. "You should get some rest." Aragorn began to protest, but Éomer would not hear it. "Besides, Queen Arwen would wish to hear the good news from you. I do not think Faramir will waken until later today anyway."

That Aragorn agreed with and he reluctantly left for his own tent. There he found Arwen pacing back and forth. When she he entered, she ran up and threw her arms around him. "Estel, I saw Gandalf. Did he. . .?"

Aragorn held his wife tightly. "He is alive. Tir's alive." That was all he could get out before the lump in his throat stopped his words. But it was enough. Arwen led him to their bed and stroked Aragorn's hair as the exhausted king fell asleep. The Queen of Gondor sighed. //Ai Elbereth! He's alive. He's alive.//

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He's alive! And there was much rejoicing. (hmmm, I suddenly just got the sudden urge to watch Monty Python) I figured you guys are all so great that I wouldn't leave you with a cliffie. Think of it as a after-Groundhog's Day present.