Hi everyone! Thanks for reviewing. I decided to be nice and give you a quick update.

Reviewer Responses

The White Werewolf:: Hello to my first reviewer! I'm glad you're so happy. Yes, being king is very hard; poor Aragorn is going to have a little more trouble later.

Alia G.L.:: You'll see what happens in this chapter. Thanks for your support, I hope Fires of Lebennin holds up to your expectation.

Lathanna:: I like your name. And here is an update, sooner than I had hoped.

arwens-light:: Glad to hear from you? How's life? Good luck with volleyball, my little sister is on the JV volleyball team at school. Interesting game. God bless you! (And update soon!)

Raksha the Demon:: Ah wedding flowers. I figured I needed a bit of humor. Thanks for pointing that out about Elessar, I love having readers who know their Tolkien! I did actually know already, I just don't like using all of his names. I think it would be confusing for some people. Don't worry, I do have him called that later in the story. Forgive me?

Arahiril:: Don't die! Then you won't be able to read the rest of the story. I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter, I hope you will like this one as well.

IceAngel7:: Daendil's opinion of Faramir? I'd have to say that Daendil doesn't really care about anyone but himself. You'll see later what he does, but you're right, kidnapping his wife will not put him in Faramir's good graces.

Thanks for reviewing you guys! Here's the next chapter of Fires!

"Oh my lady, you look beautiful!"

Éowyn smiled at her maid, Fulla, an older woman who Faramir had assigned to helping the White Lady with preparations for the wedding. "It is lovely isn't it?" She twirled around, the elvish wedding dress swishing as she moved. Éowyn laughed, feeling like a little girl dressing up like a princess.

Fulla smoothed out a wrinkle in the train. "And it fits perfectly too. How could those elves know your exact measurements, my lady?"

"They are elves, Fulla. Though I know few, I have learned that it is near impossible to learn their ways." A knock on the door interrupted them. "Who is it?"

"A lonely Steward who wishes to escort his bride-to-be to dinner."

Fulla hurried to the door and opened it a crack. "She will be right there, my lord. My lady is trying on the wedding dress."

Faramir smiled and made as if trying to get in the door. "May I see?"

The maid firmly shoved him away, surprising the Steward with her strength. "You certainly may not my lord!"

He started to protest, but then Éowyn spoke, "Faramir, love, it is bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding."

Faramir sighed. "Very well, then." He leaned against the wall of the corridor until the door opened, and Éowyn stepped out in her regular dress. Offering his arm, Faramir smiled at her. "Shall we go to dinner, my lady?"

Éowyn took the proffered arm. "It would be my pleasure, my lord."

The couple strolled to the King House where they were to meet with King Aragorn and Queen Arwen. Éowyn hugged Faramir's arm closely. "You still have not told me what you and the king discussed two days ago. I am assuming by those little worry lines on your forehead that it is still a problem."

Though he did not wish to focus on his work, Faramir knew that Éowyn was truly interested. "Lebennin and Lossarnach are quarreling over land. It should have been an easy-enough disagreement to mend, unfortunately I would not put it past the Lord of Lossarnach to try and start a civil war. He is corrupt enough that he would."

Éowyn frowned. "I am not related to him, am I? I mean, my grandmother was the sister of a lord there. . . "

As they approached the dining hall, Faramir shook his head. "No, you would not be. Your grandmother, Morwen, was the daughter of a Lord of Belfalas, Melendur, whose son, Forlong, married the Lord of Lossarnach's only child. Lord Forlong came to power after his father-in-law and was very beloved by the people, as was Morwen his older sister. Forlong died in the Battle of Pelennor Fields and Daendil, who my father had appointed as second-in-command to Forlong and who had much of the power even beforehand, took power. Daendil is…not the most kind of lords. He was appointed by Father because of his financial power."

The expression on his face told Éowyn that he was upset over his father's actions. Though she did not show it, Éowyn's anger grew. Must we be plagued by that man, even after his death?To keep the conversation from moving in that direction, Éowyn gently squeezed Faramir's arm. "Love, do you know everyone's family history?"

"He makes it his mission, it seems." The couple had reached the dining hall but hadn't entered, so Aragorn had taken it upon himself to open the door for them. He smiled at the surprised couple. "It is true. He even knew my family history when it was still supposed to be a secret."

"Estel, love, please bring them inside so that we may eat." Eyes still laughing, Aragorn obeyed Arwen. As they sat down, Arwen and Éowyn immediately began discussing the wedding, as Faramir and Aragorn reminisced about the old days. No one suspected the plot that was being unfolded in the dark corners of the city.

After dinner, Éowyn had reluctantly left Faramir, as she needed to see to more wedding arrangements. The year had been wonderfully warm, almost as if the land was making up for the years of cold and darkness under Sauron, so there were still many beautiful flowers in bloom, even in November. Éowyn smiled as she thought of everyone's incredulous smiles when she and Faramir had announced that they wished to marry in the late autumn.

They had actually planned to marry early in the month, but it had to be changed after the October attack on Tumbar. Faramir had been badly injured, almost fatally, and he was just now recovering. Though the wound itself was fully healed, the poison had had a lasting effect, almost like the Black Breath from the War of the Ring. Which all comes back to the fact that the wedding is now the last week of November. A good thing too, since there is no way we could have gotten this wedding together in time.

Finishing up the last decisions of the day, Éowyn retreated tiredly to her house in the Sixth Level of Minas Tirith. After deciding it would be too much work to change into a nightdress, she collapsed exhaustedly on her bed, falling quickly asleep.

Éowyn was awoken by a coarse yell from downstairs. The clanging of metal upon metal fully brought her to consciousness as she realized that someone was fighting. It must be around midnight, what is going on?Getting up silently from her bed, Éowyn walked to the door. Just as she reached to open it, the door flung open and a terrified Fulla entered, slamming the door shut behind her. "Fulla, what is happening?"

The maid gave her a frightened look. "They killed the guards at the door, my lady! The menservants are trying to fight them off, but they are too poorly armed!"

Éowyn's head spun. "Who is attacking?"

"Thieves, robbers, madmen, I do not know my lady!" Fulla let out a sob. "We must flee quickly!"

"I am not leaving when I can fight!"

"Please, my lady!"

Éowyn shook her head. "You go, Fulla. Get help." The mysterious men started banging against the door. "Quickly!"

It was too late. The door burst open and several masked men surrounded them. The man who seemed to be the leader had a dark gleam in his eye. He saw exactly who he was here for and advanced towards Éowyn. In a futile act of bravery, Fulla stood protectively in front of her lady. The leader payed no attention and just slashed his sword at the maid before knocking her to the ground, the body rolling into a dark corner

Grieved and angered at the attack on her friend, Éowyn reached for her sword which she kept by her bed. She had barely moved an inch when two of the men roughly seized her arms. When she struggled, one of them cruelly jerked her hair. Éowyn glared at the leader. "Villain, unhand me!"

The leader slapped her across the face, so hard that her head was wrenched to the side. "You do not speak so to me, for your life is in my 'ands. A murder works just as well as an abduction." He turned to one of his men. "Bind 'er. And dose 'er with the little concoction our employer gave us."

Éowyn struggled, but using his fingers to force her mouth open, the man gave her little choice but to let the foul-smelling potion slide down her throat. Almost instantly her head started spinning and the world dimmed. "You won't. . . get away. . .with this."

The leader's face sneered above her as she slipped into unconsciousness. "We already 'ave."

Oh dear, Evil Skittle is at it again. I thought I locked her up. (gotta check those locks) Another cliffie. What will Éowyn do? What will Faramir do when he finds out? And why do the kidnappers speak with an accent that forgets 'h'? (I'll answer that one: I wanted to give them a kind of rough-and-tumble accent, but it got too hard to try and sound uncouth so I just got rid of the 'h's. I think my spellchecker had heart failure if that's possible.) Anyway, I'll update…sometime. Bwaaahaaaahaaaa!