Alright, here's another chapter! I was feeling nice tonight.

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Faramir withdrew further into himself as the days passed. Nothing Éowyn or Aragorn said could draw him out of his self-imposed shell. He spent all his time in the library, looking through the papers on Ámee Miriel and tracing his lineage back to Mandur son of Úlhaw, an advisor to King Meneldil who was the son of Anarion and nephew of Isildur. Always in the back of his mind were the children screaming in his nightmares.

            As evening fell, Faramir could take no more. His tired mind and body revolted and he fell asleep at the table in the library. And the dream began again.

~*~

            The woman, Miriel, screamed as he was pulled away. "Please no! He is just a child, he is not threat! Please!" Sauron's evil laugh caused his heart to quake.

            He struggled as the Acolytes bound him to the altar, his father's dead body on the floor next to him. "Ámee! ÁMEE!"

            *Yonen sergnalit, kuvera!* This time, Faramir ignored the voice, recognizing it as Ámee Miriel's. //No, you will not win!//

            The Head Acolyte raised the bloody knife above him.

            *Kuvera!* //No!//

            A final prayer tore from his throat. "Eru veldo en durran!" The knife came down and again he felt the boy die.

            *KUVERA yonenit!* //Leave me be!//

            Suddenly Faramir found himself in the dark woods of Ithilien, the suffocating darkness surrounding him. He could hear the children's screams echoing through the night. His heart clenched as he realized that there were fewer voices screaming than before. //What happened?//

            They are dying. Save them, came the male voice from before.

            //Where are they?//

            Find them at the source of the moon-stream.

            Faramir almost expected Miriel to speak up, tell him not to listen. In fact he half-hoped she would, but she was silent. He was no longer under her influence. He was safe…from her.

~*~

            Aragorn was finishing some paperwork before bed when a guard interrupted. "My lord?"

            "Yes?"

            "There is an old man at the door insisting on seeing Steward Faramir."

            "Send him away."

            The guard shifted slightly. "We tried, my lord. He will not leave. He said he would sleep on the doorstep if we do not let him in. My lord, he looks like he has traveled far and it is growing cold outside."

            Aragorn sighed. "Very well, bring him in. I will speak with him."

            A few minutes later, the elderly man hobbled into the room. Seeing the king, he bent slightly, obviously an effort for his worn body. "My lord, I must speak with the Steward immediately."

            Offering the man a seat, which he gratefully took, Aragorn rested his arms on the table. "I am afraid he cannot be disturbed, but if you tell me your name and what the problem is, perhaps I can assist you."

            "My name is Cugildor son of Sirdor, but it is not I who needs help. I came to help the Steward, who was a pupil of mine as a child."

            Aragorn pushed back from the table and stood. "I am sorry, but you have wasted your time. Please rest, then I will help you find a place to…"

            "She has returned, hasn't she?"

            Aragorn looked at him quizzically. "Who?"

            The old man smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. "Ámee Miriel. She has returned for him, as she did for his forefathers."

            Sitting down again, Aragorn stared at Cugildor. "What do you know of that?"

            Cugildor smiled slightly, the wrinkles by his pale eyes crinkling. "I know almost everything. My family has been in the service of the Stewards since the reign of Meneldil. Every 150 years we are faced with this demon, and every time our efforts are thwarted." A shadow passed over his face. "This time we cannot fail, or the line of the Stewards will end. I fear I may already be too late for the journey from my home is long and hard. Had my son survived the war, it would have been his task, but he did not and my granddaughter is still too young. Please, I must see the Steward, give him this."

            Aragorn looked at the small, aged book in the old man's shaking hands. "What is it?"

            "I do not know." The king raised an eyebrow. "Well, obviously it is a book, a diary I believe, but I cannot read the language it is written in. This book was given into the care of my family by the son of Mandur, an advisor to King Meneldil and ancestor of the Steward. No one in my family has ever read it, but I did recognize the name 'Miriel' in it. I thought…" He paused. "I thought perhaps it could hold the key to destroying this ghost."

            The king reached for the book. "May I?" With a great reluctance at letting go of his family's ancient charge, Cugildor handed him the diary. As Aragorn suspected, it was in Adûnaic. On the inside cover was written in faded ink: 'Personal Property of Lómarë, daughter of Miriel and Celdun. Keep out! (this means you, Elendur!) The handwriting was that of a child, not yet even ten. Aragorn started reading to himself. Dear Diary, Lady Eãrelin gave me you today as a one year anversari anniversary gift. One year ago Appa and 'Dunie left me here with Lord Elendil and Uncle Issie…

            Finishing the book, Aragorn sat back, stunned. Though he had skimmed over parts, the diary still cleared things up considerably. Head swimming, he realized that night had fallen and servants had come and left with refreshments for Cugildor. Looking at the elderly man, Aragorn nodded his head. "You are right, Cugildor son of Sirdor. This does hold the answers, though not the ones I expected. Come, we will find Lord Faramir at once."

            Walking towards Faramir's study, Aragorn's mind was abuzz. //I can't believe I didn't figure this out before. You would have thought I learned nothing from Ada. So much for my being the skilled Ranger, I can't even put two and two together!// Finally, they reached the study and barged right in. "Faramir. Faramir!" No answer. Aragorn checked the library. He wasn't there. Worried, the king had a servantwoman wake Éowyn. As she walked up to them in her dressing gown, still bleary-eyed, Aragorn asked her, "Have you seen Faramir?"

            Éowyn stifled a yawn. She had just fallen asleep and didn't like being woken up. Still, she tried to be civil. "Last time I saw him, he was in the study."

            "He is not there anymore." Aragorn frowned. "This is just wonderful! I finally find a clue to what is happening and he disappears!"

            The Lady of Ithilien matched his frown with one of her own. "Have you asked the guards?"

            They didn't need to. Captain Beregond rushed up to them just then, followed by two of the White Guard, one supporting the other whose head was swelling slightly on one side. "My lord Aragorn! Lady Éowyn!"

            Aragorn spoke at the same time. "Captain Beregond, have you seen Faramir?"

            While each waited for the other to speak, the guard with the injury spoke up. "I have my lord. Right before he knocked me out."

            Éowyn stared at him. "Faramir did that? But he would never…" She broke off her sentence. Who knew what he would do anymore?"

            Beregond addressed both Éowyn and the king. "The Lieutenant was found by his guard relief. He could not have been out for very long, but this is…disturbing to say the least."

            Aragorn turned to the injured guard. "Do you have any idea where he might have been heading?"

            The Lieutenant closed his eyes, trying to concentrate and ignore his headache. He had been at the scout's post overlooking the west side of the city. His job was to watch the relatively unknown entrance by a waterfall. The guard's eyes flew open. "I…I think he was heading to the forest through the waterfall gate. Lord Faramir is one of the few who know where it is."

            Aragorn bit back a growl of frustration. Even he couldn't track an Ithilien Ranger through the woods at night. "We cannot go after him tonight. The moon is not large enough to see by, we would lose the trail."

            Éowyn's glare held a pool of worry. "What, then, do we do?"

            "We wait till morning." Though everyone was unhappy with this, they saw no alternative course. As Éowyn returned to her room and Beregond walked his men to the barracks, Aragorn looked out a nearby window at the encompassing forest. //Faramir, what are you doing?//

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hehehehee! Do you all remember Cugildor? Guy at the archery field in the first chapter? Seems he knew all along about Ámee Miriel. Can anyone guess who Uncle Issie was? (forgive me that horrible lack of canonism, but it was too cute to pass up.)