AN: Wow, I know it's been longer than usual since an update, but I've been swamped with work, and a $600 car bill, and a very distracting young man at work that I can't bring up the guts to talk to…but I digress. So sorry if this sounds too angsty, if it does, that's why. Hope you like it. Review! Oh, and my lovely reviewers: I love you all, but I'm much too lazy to reply to everyone individually! I will next chapter, though, when I'm actually awake. Don't stop reviewing! I love constructive criticism…

Disclaimer: Yadda yadda….none of this is mine…

I know

I may end up failing too

But I know

That you were just like me,

With someone disappointed in you.

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March 22

I slept later this morning, and there was no nightmare. It is strange that I can feel so secure in this prison, when my own home frightened me for so long. Yet in my heart I know why: it is because there is no Wormtongue here.

But I will not think of that. Not yet.

I will think instead of today's conversation with Faramir.

I met him in the gardens again, slightly later than yesterday. He was waiting for me by the wall, where I he had called to me before. There was a troubled look on his face that passed away when I approached him.

"Lady Eowyn," he said, "I feared you would not come."

"I slept later today. I apologize if I have kept you waiting…"

"Not at all. Indeed, I am honored that you chose to meet me again. Come! Shall we walk?" He offered me his arm, but I did not take it.

We strolled through the gardens again, but not this time in awkward silence. I felt comfortable with Faramir…(aye, and I have even begun calling him by his given name in my thoughts!) for I have seen that he will neither put me on a vile pedestal like Wormtongue nor pity me like Lord Aragorn…but I will not think of him, either.

Somehow our steps led us back to the dogwood glade. AN: Yes, I know I said redwood last time. I'm dumb. Ignore mistakes like this… The blossoms seemed even brighter today, if that is possible! I did not sit down on the bench, but sank instead to the grass beneath the largest of the trees and stared up through its branches. Faramir sat next to me, a respectful distance away.

I do not know what prompted me to ask him such a thing as I did, but I suddenly burst out, "What is it you have nightmares of, my Lord?"

Faramir looked down at me oddly. "How do you know of my nightmares?"

"You started to mention them yesterday, but stopped. And there is a pain in your eyes, though you hide it well, that surely haunts your sleep."

He did not speak for a moment, then he began carefully, not looking at me but staring out through the trees.

"Fire…always fire. I feel its heat on my flesh, I see it through my closed eyes, but the poison from the wound does not let me move. In my mind, I can see my father leap onto a lit pyre and end his life, and I know, though they will not tell me so to my face, that he intended to take me with him." He closed his eyes against the pain. "In the dream, I remember my youth, always being second to Boromir, and deservedly so, but my father never let a chance pass to tell me so. When I grew bored with sword exercises and wanted to visit the libraries, or the artists' shops, he would not let me. I love serving my country, Lady, and I love with all my heart that which the sword and spear defend, and I have always done my uttermost to see my city and home safe. But I find no joy in slaying my fellow Men, no matter where they issue from.

"And that, Lady Eowyn, is what I dream of every night. Of my father's scorn for my attempts to win his good will, and of the families of men who will not return home from the North, or the West; of their pain."

I stared at him for a moment. It seemed to me, for I had heard nothing but praise about him from the healers and servants, that this man was as great a warrior and battle tactician as had ever been. Yet he did not take pleasure in any of it.

"You would rather spend your days locked indoors than outside, riding through the wind to glory and valor?" I asked him with genuine curiosity, and no bitterness this time, and he answered in like.

"War can be as much of a prison as a building, Lady. Any kind of duty can."

I pondered his words.

"Yes, duty can be a cage." As I knew all too well.

"So, my Lady. What think you of our City thus far?" Faramir changed the subject to a lighter one, and I was grateful. I am not yet ready to face my memories; perhaps I will never escape them.

We talked the morning away, then, speaking of topics such as the differences and similarities of our countries' customs. I know much more about Gondor now…their society is more formal and high-minded than Rohan's, but they have many festivals and feast-days as well. Faramir was called away to his duties before noon, but he asked me to come again tomorrow, and I agreed without hesitating. The remainder of the day I passed by shadowing the Warden and making him show me how to mix various potions. I can cure a stomachache and ease the healing of small bruises now, though this knowledge will no doubt be useless when we're all slaves of Mordor.

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