Here's the next part of Du'elea.

Reviewer Responses

Callie3= Thank you for the compliment. And as to your question, let's just say…well, nothing because that would be giving the story away.

Arahiril= Yup, I made up the Adûnaic myself as well as the vilkama and its antidote. It's always fun to make up names and words. All the names of the people in the story (besides Miriel, Sauron, and Pharazon) are mixed up elvish words from the elvish dictionaries I got. Though I can't remember any at this point in time. (stupid memory or lack thereof)

Lydia2= Several more chapters, though I promise it isn't as long as Faramir's Story. (at least…I don't think it is) I don't know, I may be feeling a little generous tonight. We'll see.

arwens-light= Confusion over the ghost of Ámee Miriel is expected because Faramir is confused. It is answered a little bit in this chapter…or is it? Lol! I love being mysterious. Good luck on the SATs!

Narya's Bane= Thank's for your input. I appreciate any and all comments that would help me improve my writing. Hope you like this chapter!

Scholar= Yah, I definitely expanded on the Sil. This story is actually a little AU because I had to mess with the timeline in order to make Lómdunwe the age he was. As for answers, Faramir gets a few this chapter. Can't answer everything without giving away the end, but if you remember the first chapter with Denethor, the others before him ended up, well, dead. Bwaahaaaahaaaa! *Lirenel wacks Evil Skittle over the head* sorry, she gets out of control sometime.

PUNK GOOSE= as I told arwens-light, confusion is expected.

the evil witch queen= I'm not gonna tell you, sorry. That would be giving away too much and where's the fun in that?

Callie3= me too. Makes me feel less guilty when I… whoops, almost gave something away. =D

I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

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As the moon grew steadily among the stars, the darkness grew amidst the forests of Ithilien. And inside the Steward's House, King Aragorn of Gondor walked determinedly towards Faramir's study. He did not knock on the door for he knew the Steward wouldn't hear him. Instead he just walked in, resolved to do something to help. "Faramir?"

Surprisingly, the king received an answer, though only one word. "Library." Walking into the connected room, Aragorn found his Steward sitting at a table, hot tea in one hand, an old book in the other. "What are you reading?"

Faramir slammed the book down, startling Aragorn. "I don't know, I can't read it! I recognize some of the words, but I can't put it together!"

Aragorn tentatively picked the book up and thumbed through a few pages. "It is just a book of Numenorean nursery rhymes and lullabies."

"Nursery rhymes." Faramir shook his head incredulously. "I spent the last hour struggling over a book of nursery rhymes." He frowned. "Wait, you can read this, my lord?"

"Please, call me Aragorn, and yes I can speak Adûnaic fluently. Seeing as my Adar was alive when it was still being spoken, he insisted on me learning the language of my ancestors. So I can now read," he looked down at one of the nursery rhymes, "3 Cats and a Mouse sail the Sea."

Faramir was still back on the part that Aragorn knew Adûnaic. "My lor… Aragorn. Will you help me?"

Aragorn sat down in the other chair. "That is why I am here. What do you need?"

The Steward handed him a large pile of scrolls and books. "Anything on the sacrifices before the fall of Númenor, or anything about Celdun son of Erendur or his son Lómdunwe."

Aragorn stared at the pile that was beginning to tip over. "Then we had best get started."

They spent the next two hours looking. Finally Faramir sighed and threw down the last book, which slammed hard on the table. "Nothing. There is nothing here."

"Have we looked through everything?"

"Everything I have here, which are copies of the books in the Library of Minas Tirith." Picking up the books of nursery rhymes and lullabies, Faramir dejectedly leafed through it as he leaned his chair back. All at once, he righted himself with a loud thud. "That's it!"

The king looked up from his scroll. "What is it?"

Faramir's eyes shone. "This! This lullaby! I remember now." He furrowed his eyebrows. "I do not know if that is a good thing. This complicates matters."

Aragorn sighed. "Faramir, please explain to me what you speak of."

"I know this lullaby." Almost to himself he started singing it. "Lela thil e du. Aduné virisa Isel kuveren. Kampha kaleme e Isel. Kampha kaleme e Isel. Yanë e Erapárya, tha kaleme e Isel." The song had a silvery feel to it, influence more by the elves than the men of Middle Earth.

After thinking a moment, Aragorn translated it aloud. "A star shines in the night. The west dims, yet the moon wakes. Hold the shine of the moon. Hold the shine of the moon. The gift of the Great Father, is the shine of the moon." He smiled. "That is beautiful. High Adûnaic, spoken by the nobles of Númenor. Where did you hear it?"

Faramir hesitated, but he realized that it didn't matter anymore. //Even I think I am going mad, this will make no difference.// "I learned it when I was five."

"Your father?" asked Aragorn, though doubtful that Denethor would have sung to his younger son.

"No, Father did not know Adûnaic. It was soon after my mother died. I was so young, I didn't understand her death. I needed a mother." Faramir shrugged and said simply, "So I made one up."

Aragorn could understand this. When his own father had died, Elrond had quickly stepped into Arathorn's place. Faramir, though, had no one to take the place of his mother. "That is understandable, but what does that have to do with the lullaby?"

"Ámee Miriel, the mother I imagined, taught it to me."

The king looked at him doubtfully. "Do you not think it is more likely that you read it somewhere?"

Faramir shook his head. "I didn't learn to read for another year. I have not thought about Ámee Miriel for years, but now that I do, nothing about her…" His forehead wrinkled and he fell silent."

"Nothing about her what?"

"Did you ever have an imaginary friend, if you pardon my asking?"

Aragorn frowned at the abrupt change in subject. "Yes, when I was about eight years old."

"May I ask how your Adar dealt with it?"

The king thought back. "He thought it was amusing, though after awhile he did try to dissuade me from playing with him. That was how I got my first pony."

"He did not forbid you from ever speaking about him?"

"No." Seeing the Steward's face, Aragorn's frown deepened. "Did yours?"

Unfortunately for the king, Faramir's mind had moved on. "Perhaps…" He sprang up from his chair, almost knocking over the now cold tea, and quickly opened the large bottom cabinets that were underneath the bookshelves. Reaching quite far in, Faramir pulled out two small chests, then two more. Leaving them on the floor, he dashed into his study and began rummaging through his desk. "Where did I put it? It's got to be here somewhere."

Meanwhile, Aragorn was sincerely thinking that maybe madness did run in the Line of Hurin, the first Steward. //Maybe I should talk to Prince Imrahil about this.// His thoughts were interrupted by and exclamation of victory from the study. Faramir strode back into the library holding a small bronze key. "Faramir, please tell me what you are doing."

For once, the Steward complied without hesitation. "My father had a tendency to lock personal things away and throw the key in the fire. Then if he decided that he wanted to get whatever it was he had locked away, he had to get a new key made. Finally the bronzesmith just made all the locks the same and had a few extra keys on hand for when Father needed them." As he spoke, he opened the first box. Rifling through it and not finding what he wanted, he shut the first box and opened the second.

Faramir hit paydirt in box number three. Yet what he found surprised him. As he finished each page, he handed them to Aragorn, a frown sharpening on his face. They finished reading in silence, neither knowing what to say. At last Aragorn spoke. "So that is what is happening. Your nightmares are caused by this Ámee Miriel and are a precursor to…" He didn't finish his sentence, but both knew what he meant. Like his ancestors before him, Faramir's dreams were a precursor to death. They kept him awake, weakening his strength until Ámee Miriel let fall the final, fatal blow.

//This doesn't make sense. Wasn't Miriel the mother of Lómdunwe? Why would she of the Line of the Stewards unless…unless we are descended from the Acolytes that killed her family.// Faramir was horrified at this revelation, but he did not share it with Aragorn, ashamed of this new heritage. Instead he gave a bitter laugh. "It does not seem fair, does it? Most families inherit land or jewels. We inherit a murdering ghost out for our blood."

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Hmmmm, does that count as a cliffie? I didn't mean to leave one. *glares at Evil Skittle who whistles innocently* might have to put up another chapter to make up for it.