AN: La la la….None of this is mine….All belongs to JRR Tolkien, etc. REVIEW! :)

I want you to want me

I need you to need me

I'd love you to love me

I'm beggin' you to beg me…

Didn't I didn't I didn't I see you cryin'?

Didn't I didn't I didn't I see you cryin'?

Feelin' all alone without a friend and you feel like dyin'

Oh, didn't I didn't I didn't I see you cryin'?

Yeah, I don't know if those are the right words or not…

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March 20

This morning the sun rose in a brilliant, flaming sunrise, but I only saw its outer edge. My window does not face east. The colors gave me courage, however, to take advantage of Ioreth's absence.

I summoend one of the lesser maids and ordered her to bring me a robe. I must have seemed more intimidating than I meant to, because she did it, though she'd no doubt been ordered not to. Ioreth, the spineless maid told me, had taken a slight cold, and thus I would have no constant guard that day.

I convinced the girl to take me to the Warden of the Houses of Healing, whom I gathered was in charge. She led me through the twisting passageways into a large tower room with eastward-facing windows and shelves upon shelves of dusty books. I ran to look out over the plains towards Mordor, forgetting for the moment the short, balding man sitting behind an oversized desk.

"Lady!" He looked up in surprise. "you are not yet healed, and I was commanded to tend you with especial care. You should not have risen from your bed for seven days yet, or so I was bidden. I beg you to go back."

I turned reluctantly from the window, though I hadn't been able to see anything by dark mountains in the distance. "I am healed. Healed at least in body, save my left arm only, and that is at ease. But I shall sicken anew, if there is naught that I can do. Are there no tidings of war? The women can tell me nothing." I pleaded with him for news, for I had heard none since I learned of the Host of the West's march eastward.

He rambled off something about a new leader from the North, Aragorn no doubt, but told me nothing I did not already know. Then he spoke disparagingly of war in general, the bitter words of a man who holds no talent with a weapon.

"Would you have the folk of Gondor gather you herbs only, when the Dark Lord gathers armies? And it is not always good to be healed in body. Nor is it always evil to die in battle, even in bitter pain. Were I permitted, in this dark hour I would choose the latter." I gazed again out the window, angry at myself for allowing my emotions to dictate my words. Depressed ravings would not convince the Warden to free me. I spoke again, more gently.

"Is there no deed to do? Who commands in this City?" Perhaps the ruler would give me some useful task to fulfill, preferably involving a sword.

"I do not rightly know," he answered, rising from his seat. "Such things are not my care. There is a marshal over the Riders of Rohan;" My heard ached at the mention of Eomer "and the Lord Hurin, I am told, commands the men of Gondor. But the Lord Faramir is by right the Steward of the City."

Then to Lord Faramir I would go, and request permission to be set free. "Where can I find him?" I expected to be given directions to the Steward's Palace, and told I couldn't go there, but I was surprised at the answer I received.

"In this house, Lady. He was sorely hurt, but is now set again on the way to health. But I do not know---" The Warden faltered. I was irritated.

"Will you not bring me to him? Then you will know."

With a very loud, pointed sigh the Warden led me out of the room. I followed briskly behind him, planning my approach to the Lord Steward. He had been wounded in battle, so I anticipated that he would be an elderly man, perhaps my uncle's age. I would flatter the care given to me in the Houses, then quietly slip in a request to leave.

It was not long before I found myself outdoors, my shoes clicking on a quant cobblestone path. Trees, bushes, flowers of every imaginable variety grew on either side, and gravel tributaries often opened up for adventurous patients to traverse at their leisure. The sun was shining overhead, but a cool wind blew leaves across the path. Soon we came to the Eastern wall of the city. I could see the figure of a man standing against the wall, but the sun rising behind him prevented me from at first making out his face. The Warden introduced the man as Lord Faramir and relayed my complaint, then at a sign from the Steward, left.

"Do not misunderstand him, lord," I began. "It is not lack of care that grieves me. No houses could be fairer, for those who desire to be healed. But I cannot lie in sloth, idle, caged. I looked for death in battle, but I have not died, and battle goes on."

"What would you have me do, lady? I also am a prisoner of the healers." With that he turned towards me, and as a cloud drifted across the sun I saw the his face.

He is not an old man at all, the Lord Faramir. Older than my brother, yes, but younger than Lord Aragorn by far. He has dark, aye raven-black, hair and fine gray eyes, set in a noble face and tall figure. Yet it was not his physical features that struck me at that moment: 'twas the understanding within him. For I saw that he, too, had known great pain in his life, and was striving to overcome it. This shamed me, for I know I wallow in my own, rather than make the effort to find peace. Is Lord Faramir, then, stronger than I? But this pain I saw only for a moment before he concealed it behind a stern bearing and strength of character. It must have been a mighty foe to strike down such a man as this.

"What do you wish? If it lies in my power, I will do it." He asked again, and I realized that I had not answered him.

"I—I would have you command this Warden, and bid him let me go!" The words sprang from my lips before I could think up finer ones, and I know I sounded like an unruly child.

But he only smiled gently at me. "I myself am in the Warden's keeping, Nor have I yet taken up my authority in the City. But had I done so, I should still listen to his counsel, and should not cross his will in matters of his craft, unless in some great need." Though his words may indicate so, there was not a drop of condescention in his voice. Much as I wanted to find pity, and patronization, I could not.

I tried again to convince him. "But I do not desire healing, I wish to ride to war like my brother Eomer, or better like Theoden the king, for he died and has both honour and peace."

Then he spoke words that I had known in my heart, but hearing them made it worse, and I felt the walls of pride around my heart begin to chip, for here was one who knew what I endured.

"It is too late, lady, to follow the Captains, even if you had the strength. But death in battle may come to us all yet, willing or unwilling. You will be better prepared to face it in your own manner, if while there is still time you do as the Healer commanded. You and I, we must endure with patience the hours of waiting."

I knew he was right, but that did not stop a tear from running down my cheek. I brushed it aside and spoke words to myself that I did not think Lord Faramir would hear.

"But the healers would have me lie abed seven days yet, And my window does not look eastward." But he heard me, and what he said next surprised me.

"Your window does not look eastward? That can be amended. In this I will command the Warden. If you will stay in this house in our care, lady, and take yoru rest, then you shall walk in this garden in the sun, as you will, and you shall look east, whither all our hopes have gone. And here you will find me, walking and waiting, and also looking east. It would ease my care, if you would speak to me, or walk at whiles with me."

Me? Ease his care? I did not understand.

I asked him. And told him I did not desire the speech of living men.

"Eowyn of Rohan, I say to you that you are beautiful."

I looked at him in shock. What had my appearance to do with anything? There are much more important matters at stake!

"In the valleys of our hills there are flowers fair and bright, and maidens fairer still; but neither flower nor lady have I seen till now in Gondor so lovely, and so sorrowful. It may be that only a few days are left ere darkness falls upon our world, and when it comes I hope to face it steadily; but it would ease my heart, if while the Sun yet shines, I could see you still. For you and I have both passed under the wings of the Shadow, and the same hand drew us back."

Why did I shun his friendship? I can only say that my heart is too cold to be eased by kind words. I do not wish to cause this man more hurt, and that is all he will receive from me.

"Alas, not me, lord!" I protested as I backed away. "Shadow lies on me still. Look not to me for healing! I am a shieldmaiden and my hand is ungentle. But I thank ou for this at least, that I need not keep to my chamber. I will walk abroad by the grace of the Steward of the City." With that I made a hasty courtesy and fled back inside.

So now I sit here, pouring empty thoughts onto unfeeling paper and wondering why I ran from comfort.

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