Author's note:

Thank you for your reviews! I have recently updated my account biography, in case you are interested. It does not say anything about me, personally, but it explains my policies on fan-fiction. Please take a look!

Anyway, here is chapter four of 'Sulaeke'. Hope you enjoy!

Sulaeke: Chapter Four

Aglaron opened the front door as silently as he could, hoping that no one would notice his entrance. However, it was not to be. Just at that moment, Sadaeth stepped out of the kitchen. Aglaron clasped a hand over his nose, praying that she had not seen his injury.

This was not to be either. "What happened to your nose!" She shrieked, taking hold of his arm and wrenching it away from his face. "Ewe..." She furrowed her eyebrows and led him quickly into the kitchen, pushing him into a chair.

"Yuck!" Sulaeke exclaimed upon seeing the crimson blood that was steadily leaking from her brother's nose.

"Thanks a lot," Aglaron mumbled, sounding slightly nasal.

"Sulaeke, get me a damp rag," Sadaeth instructed, all the while inspecting her brother's nose. "I don't think it's broken..."

It had been three weeks since Faramir and his men arrived in Minas Tirith, and although they all desired to spend as much time as possible with their families, training needed to begin again.

Faramir had just sent a messenger to gather up his men and tell them to meet in the training arena on the sixth level at half past noon. The present time was six o'clock, and Faramir had forced himself out of bed just twenty minutes ago.

He headed out of his chambers into the large hallway, and, seeing as how he had nothing else to do, he resolved to take a walk, and proceeded to jog down the long flight of stairs to the sixth level, not bothering to tell anyone where he was going.

Sulaeke lay on her bed with her eyes closed, too lazy to get up, and yet too awake to sleep. She was daydreaming of many pleasant things, most of which included Lord Faramir. She had some errands to run today on the fourth level, and she imagined herself meeting him there. Even more farfetched, she imagined herself being able to say something without embarrassing herself like she knew would happen if her dreamy encounter were to come true.

Toppling out of bed, Sulaeke dressed herself in a light purple summer dress, pulling her hair into a loose bun on top of her head. She retrieved a chain necklace, decorated with a single purple stone, from the top of her dresser and draped it around her neck.

Skipping out of the room, she slipped on her shoes and ran out the front door into the bright sunlight, planning to return before her other family members woke up.

Even this early in the morning, the streets were crowded with people, making it difficult to get anywhere very quickly. Sulaeke moved as swiftly as possible to the staircase leading up to the fourth level.

Scanning her surroundings, she made her way to the stand she was seeking: the fruit stall. Fumbling through the mountains of bananas, pears and watermelons, she carefully chose the ones she wanted. She hastened over to the clerk and purchased her items, finishing her errands faster than she thought she would.

As she strolled back to the flight of steps heading to her home level, she passed the stairway leading to the fifth level. She had never been up there before – it was reserved mainly for the wealthier families, so, being as curious as she was, she decided to have a little adventure.

Turning around, she marched right up to the fifth staircase and began to climb.

Once she reached the top, she was shocked at how much more pleasant the fifth level was compared to the third level. The houses were much bigger and nicer, and the citizen's clothes were fancier than any garment Sulaeke had ever owned.

Sulaeke suddenly felt very out of place and contemplated going right back down to the fourth level, when something in her head screamed, "There's no law that says you can't be up here! Be bold!" So she wandered further into the unfamiliar territory, trying her best to blend in, all the while feeling extremely self-conscious.

Sulaeke suddenly saw something that caught her attention. To her left, there was a stand selling live chickens (a bird that she had always found somewhat amusing). A small man was standing on a raised platform with a chicken on a fetter, hurriedly informing people of the benefits of having a chicken. Sulaeke smiled broadly and scampered over, eager to find out the price of these spectacular birds.

She stood for a moment, watching in awe as the man continued to explain the uses of a chicken, when someone spoke to her suddenly.

"Do I know you?" the person asked. Sulaeke turned around and came face to face with Lord Faramir.

Sulaeke was startled by his sudden appearance, and she yelped in a rather high-pitched fashion, awkwardly stepping backward and crushing a stray chicken's foot, causing it to soar upward in fright, where it began to attack an innocent onlooker's head.

Sulaeke did her best to regain some composure, straightening her hair, clearing her throat and clasping her hands together. Trying to ignore the mystified look on Faramir's face, she said, "Yes, um, I believe we met in the third level market a few weeks ago."

"Yes, I remember now," he said, taking a step backward. "I had better be going. Good day!"

Sulaeke watched him leave and put her head into her hands, thinking, 'Could my life get any worse?'

Faramir hurried away, amazed that anyone could be that jumpy. Not only was she strange like Boromir had said, she was insane too! And the poor chicken! He shrugged and ran up the steps to the seventh level, deciding that he had had enough excitement for one day.

He strolled across the courtyard and through the doorway into the steward's house. He walked down the long hall back to his chambers and sat at his desk, flipping through some paperwork that needed to be finished in a short time. Sighing audibly, he picked up a quill and began scribbling words onto the paper.

Sulaeke stood for a moment with her head in her hands before slowly raising her eyes. She blushed furiously when she saw that everyone around her was staring at her, and the man running the stand was still attempting to release the onlooker from the chicken's painful grip.

Without thinking, Sulaeke fled toward the downward flight of steps and made a mental note never to show her face on the fifth level again.

Upon finally reaching the third level, she made her way to her house, dropping her groceries off on the counter. She went into the living room and sat in her favorite chair, wishing with all her might that she could squeeze underneath it and hide there forever.