(A/N)

My apologies for taking so long to write a new chapter, but it is a bit hard being on skiing vacation and writing at the same time ;)

Anyway, I am back and even though I am not entirely convinced that I got the tuning right in the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it anyway, and I hope as well that you will tell me what you think about it ;)



@Picture Girl:

You ARE keen on making me feel flattered, right? ;) Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one, too


@Alaize:
Well, they sort of should end up together when I'm done with this so I have to make them warm up to each other, don't I?


@everyone else:

thx for reviewing, hope you like this one too


Spirit



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I am losing

Losing the battle and losing myself....


As the morning sun chased away the shadows lurking in the corners of his room, Faramir placed his hands to the sides of his window, hanging his head in defeat. Sleep had refused to come to him that night, as much as he had longed for oblivion - or even the dreams that told of doom and destruction and fire, since these were catastrophies that were not of his fault, not of his hindering, but what kept him from finding this relative peace was more of a personal shadow...

He closed his eyes against the stinging wind coming in from the east, and even though the air smelled sweet and full of spring, it seemed as though it carried in itself the message of autumn falling, slowly diminishing into eternal winter.

He knew. As much as he longed for hope, he did not dare it.

For he would not survive the fall...


Steps were echoing far below him, soft steps on the white pebbles that marked the pathways between the lawns and trees of the gardens of the Houses. He lowered his gaze, the window shielding him from the sight of the lonely wanderer in the early hours of the day.

Her. Of course it was her. He had known, even if he would maybe not have admitted it. The sun had not yet climbed the walls of the gardens, and so she walked in shadow, lost in thoughts of her own. A gown of soft white was playing around her form, underlining the impression that she gave, the impression of winter and cold, beautiful but unreachable as a flower hidden under a whole season's snow.

Faintly, Faramir wondered when it had been that he had become so completely and utterly lost. In his heart, he felt the end coming, darkness unescapable closing in around him, until there was no more room to breathe. In his heart, he could feel the emptiness that was only the foreboding of the sacrifices yet to come. But yet, something in him refused to yield. He dared not to name it, fearing it would flee the mere thought of it, delicate and impossible as it was, but it was there, hanging in the air like a well-woven spell.


I am losing...

Losing myself, finally...


He was no fool, of course. He had listened to Merry talking, had listened to what he had said, and - more carefully even - to what he had not.Time had made him apt at recognizing things, that were not within his grasp, and such most certainly was the Lady of Rohan.


Aragorn...


His gaze strayed again, looking out to the east, where, somewhere, the king of Gondor was facing doom. No wonder it was him that held the lady's affection. He had only seen the king for the briefest of moments, yet he remembered his hand drawing him back from the end of all things. He was a king, for all Faramir could tell, and never could he scorn him for being what he was. Even if this meant that the shadows would be drawing on him more closely still...


And so it is I am falling...


The sun had climbed the wall, finally spilling rich, golden light into the gardens. Her hair caught the glitter, shining like woven gold in the morning sun. She halted in her stride, lifting her head to the careful warmth of early spring, her statue upright and proud, head slightly tilted backwards as she exposed her face to the sun. He half expected to find dew on her face when she turned, ice being melted as the bitter frost receded but there was nothing but a pale expression of delicate calm on her features when she turned again. He faintly wondered if there was any sun that could warm her.


She had spotted him before he could recoil to the shadows, her brows climbing up surprisedly at the sight of him. And then, tentatively, as if not trusting her actions herself, a smile touched her lips, as delicate as early morning dew. A careful smile it was, and yet it transformed her face, frost bursting out into a full spring's bloom.

The answering smile was on his lips before he even knew about it, in this very moment knowing, why he was still hoping, still breathing despite the clouds that hung in the eastern sky.


Her eyes met his gaze for the briefest of moments before she bowed her head, greeting him formally, more formally than he would have her, and yet, he answered the gesture with a small bow of his own, reflexes taking over his actions despite himself. He was not sure whether to be surprised or to scorn at the reaction, that his long years in court had formed.


A last hint of her smile and she turned again, taking up her stride through the gardens, leaving him to his thoughts as he slowly began to relax again.


Losing myself....

Sweet Valar, tell me, how can something that is about to destroy me feel so right?