She ran

Her gowns flowing around her she ran blindly, her good arm keeping the skirts from getting in her way. Her quick steps echoed through the house in which she had been put, not caring, whether she would wake anyone, not even caring if her injury at last would show the mercy on her to have her faint, fall into graceful oblivion once and for all. The urge in her blood was strong, the feeling of being trapped, trapped as if she were never able to breathe again. The stone walls seemed to close on her, and the stone city of Minas Tirith was not made to lessen that feeling.

Eowyn felt the drum of horses' hooves singing in her blood, felt the free being that she truly was spread its wings and cry out in despair as it found a cage closing in around it.

She had never been one for prisons.

She felt dizzy as the strain of her quick pace threatened to overwhelm her. She was far from healed and every step, every ratteling breath told her so, even if she tried hard not to listen.

She let her skirts drop down again to have her sound arm push open the doors to the garden, hardly noticing the metallic clang with which the wing she had so violently torn open thundered against the walls of the house. If there had been one soul still asleep in the house, it would be awake by now, and Eowyn did not care. She fled down the few steps to the lawn, almost tumbling in the attempt and finally halted her flight, throwing back her head to deeply inhale the cool air of the night.

This was better. The chill of the night, the freedom of not feeling the stone walls around her suited the shieldmaiden better, a faint memory of the endless plains of Rohan, endless, soothing, whispering to her soul of a freedom that was not for her.

The garden was nothing like it... but closing her eyes and letting her imagination do its will helped a little.

"I am sorry that a window to the east was not able to ease your concerns, mylady."

She flinched visibly at the soft spoken words, immediately cursing herself for it. Despite the fuss she had been making, she would have never imagined the other inhabitants of the house to do more than maybe shake their head behind her back – something which, even if she despised such behavior, she could not have cared for less at the moment.

Obviously she was wrong, and once again she had made a fool of herself in front of the one person she would have preferred not to convince of her own childishness.

The Stewart...

She knew he was standing in her back, although she could not tell for how long. His kindness humiliated her in ways she never would have thought, and once again he had managed to catch her off edge. There had never been anything but kindness and pity in his eyes.

And both of them she truly despised.

She took a deep breath, then another, before she straightened her back, bracing herself for the battle to come.

"Yet I have to thank you for the arrangement mylord, for I prefer to face what shadows my path."

She kept her voice cool and casual, taking another moment before turning around.

He was standing next to a tree shadowing the entrance to the Houses, leaning against it in a calm gesture that seemed to describe him quite well if judging from what she had seen of him so far could be trusted. He averted his gaze as she spun around, looking aside to a bunch of flowers. A smile she could not exactly place ghosted around his lips.

"I am sorry", he said softly with a hint of pain, which led her fury vanish in a matter of seconds. Angry on herself for letting him unsettle her again, her words came out harder than she maybe intended.

"Don't be."

He accepted her snarl without so much as a wink, only a hint of irony added to his weary smile.

"I will try, my lady."

For a moment she wondered what had driven him out here. There were shadows beneath his eyes and something in the way his shoulders were set told her, that he kept the same cruel self-control she tried to impose upon herself. Only he seemingly was doing a better job of it.

"How come I see the Stewart of Gondor out in the gardens at this time of the night?"

Suspicion and guilt fought a war in her voice, none of them gaining on the other. He lifted his gaze to look at her again, even if she could not fight the impression, that all she saw was a display for her, and not the real Faramir, whoever this might be. She angrily bit her lips. Deception had ever shadowed her path, and one had been especially adept in this.

One that also had a way of appearing when she yearned for solitude. She felt hatred flush through her like a river and saw Faramir shrink back at the tone in her eyes, even if it had not been ment for him, and even if he had not made a single move.

"You were hardly to be overheared", he answered, his voice still calm and even a hint of humor playing around his lips that was lost on her at the moment. He looked back to the flowers again as fury once more gained on her, an apologising smile flickered on his features. "And I fear, that none of us gives in to sleep easily these days..."

She nodded, for once not shooting back a reply. Instead she turned away, impolite, but unable to fight the urge to look up to the endless skies, the ultimate promise of a freedom denied for her. Her heart beat faster as the hoofbeats took up again their endless sound, the feel of a ride never ending, the thundering of Rohirrim gracing the plains to dance in battle. She closed her eyes.

"I cannot breathe within this city..."

More to herself the words were spoken, as he had vanished from her conciousness, wiped away by the thundering hoofbeats, and as soon as she heard him draw a sharp breath behind him, she felt the deep urge to slap herself for giving so much away.... of him for being there, for that matter.

"It saddens me to hear this." There was a catch in his voice that made her turn and she found him looking at her eagerly. "I wish there was something I could do..."

"You can, but you wouldn't", Eowyn reminded him, less hard than she felt for something in his expression told her to be careful and she followed her instincts.

"In this you are right." He nodded, once more letting his head drop as if in thought or regret. "All of us follow the paths chosen for them, Lady of Rohan. And as the bitter medicine you swallow is that you cannot depart to the Black Gate as you wish, rest assured,that the bitter cup for me is, that I can and will not grant you this one wish."

He lifted his gaze again, and beneath the weariness and sadness was a strength, that she already had seen before. A strength, that would not yield, not before her, not before anyone. And again she felt humiliated by this strength, by his never wavering commitment in what he had to do, no matter his liking. Not a virtue of her own, she realized with bitter scorn.

"Come with me, my lady." Careful still was the tone in his voice – no wonder, for every word of him had brought him nothing but scorn from her, a scorn that was not meant for him. "Let me show you something."

She followed, softenend for a moment by the regret of having him treated injustly, as he led her through the gardens to the wall. A withered staircase wound up alongside the wall to make it possible to climb up and she followed the Stewart's silent, steady step.

Having arrived the top of the stairs, he took a step to the side to give her room to see what they had come for and awe let her stop and stare for more than just a moment.

A cold wind took up and toyed with the long unbraided blond strands as freedom for a second took hold of her.

She was up, so high up on the walls and far below her, she saw the endless plains and hills stretching to the horizon. No stones to be seen in her gaze, no houses, no restraints. The wind sang of freedom and her blood answered ferociously.

Hoofbeats coming from afar...

She breathed deeply, once more closing her eyes, giving herself in the the wind, letting it soothe her, kiss her like a friend, still the bleeding inside her if only for a while.

Only what seemed hours later she became aware of Faramir standing beside her. There was a whistful smile on his face that seemed to hurt her as well as him. For an instance she felt the urge to soothe him.

"Thank you", she said softly. "For a touch of freedom..."