Hey, I'm back. Sorry, about the delays in posting. College hockey takes up a lot of time, as does school. Hope you enjoy this chapter, we own none of the characters. They belong to Tolkien, Homer, and other people.

-

Faramir awoke after a short and restless sleep. No matter how hard he tried he could not take his mind off the great losses of the battle. The faces of his fallen comrades, his brothers, and their burning bodies were emblazoned on his memory. As he dressed, he tried to remember the greater good for which they fought and the victory that had come as a result of their sacrifice. Yet he could not. He could not feel victorious with so many dead and so much pain.

He splashed his face with the cool water from the basin and tried to wash away the painful memories. He patted his face dry and turned to the bed. It was then that he remembered why they were fighting and dying. He remembered what in this world that was so precious that it needed to be protected by their very lives. He walked over to the bed and stroked his wife's golden hair and kissed her forehead. She looked so beautiful and peaceful. No doubt she was dreaming of happier times away from the war and chaos that plagued them now.

It is for our families and those we love, and this fair city that we fight and diehe thought. He knew then that he would be willing to fight, to suffer, to die in order to protect those he loved. In order to make real that dream of peace.

He kissed her once again and walked down the dark stone hallway. It was not yet dawn but he had felt a strong need to walk, to think. He walked past the rooms, most of which were dark, until he saw a light in one of them. He knew what lay in that room, the body of King Thranduil. He also knew who was within. Legolas visited that room as often as he could. Faramir also guessed, since an elf needed little rest, that he sat in there throughout the evenings as well. He looked in and indeed saw Legolas kneeling before his father and he saw the pain and suffering in his eyes.

He walked past, not wanting to intrude on Legolas' mourning. He paid no mind to where he was walking and just let his feet take him where they would. Soon he realized that he was following a familiar route, to his childhood escape in the gardens. So he went and sat in his little nook, protected by the great tree looming above him. There he sat and waited for the sun to rise and paint the stone city red and gold, just as it had been painted so by man's blood and greed. Somehow the sunrise always filled his heart with hope and joy. He felt that no matter what happened, or would happen, the dawn would always come just as it always had. It was one of the few things in the world in which one could have faith. It gave a sense of stability in a world of chaos.

"I see that you still love to watch the dawn, my friend." Spoke a familiar voice at Faramir's shoulder. He turned and saw, kneeling beside him, Hector. The pale light of dawn served to illuminate Hector's brown eyes and hair, adding a luster of youth which reminded Faramir of the boy he knew long ago. He had just left his brother to see another person restless from the past day's events.

"Remember when we played together as children, Faramir? Your brother and I would usually practice swordplay and reenact the old battles glorified in our poetry. We would try to convince you to play with us, but you preferred to sit and read in this very spot. You were much wiser than we were, even then. We reveled in the sword and the glory of battle, yet we did not truly understand it. Alas, now we understand it all too well. It sounded so heroic but it was all just a game to us. We had not even seen a man die in combat let alone killed by our own hand. Now I have seen them die, heard their screams, and there is nothing glorious about it. Nothing poetic. We said we would die for honor yet we knew nothing about dying. You were wise to seek knowledge rather than warfare. Now I would die to see such peace in our realm as there was in our youth."

Faramir smiled and looked to Hector and said, "So, my dear Hector, the brave warrior, is sick of war?"

Hector gave a bitter smile for a moment and then his face fell, and again was serious. "Yes, but it would not matter if I were sick of war for we have been sent war and so it shall be. I would love to be back in fair Dol Amroth with my beautiful Amdromache and my newborn son in my arms. But I have decided to defend my people, and so must we all. Perhaps in our days, or the days of our sons, we shall have time enough at peace to ask ourselves what we are fighting for. I would that our sons were taught language and learning rather than swordsmanship and strategy. I would that they were never exposed to this evil that is war. But perhaps I am too idealistic."

"No Hector, our sons will know peace even if we must give our very lives for it. They will know peace. That is why we are fighting. For ourselves we keep no hope, it is for our sons and our wives and all those we love that we fight."

"Yes Faramir, again you have proven to be the wiser. I am glad to be reunited with you brother, your wisdom indeed is a great hope in these perilous times."

"Wisdom is a wonderful thing, that is true, but Gondor would have fallen already if we did not have such a great warrior as Hector fighting alongside us. You have praised me for my skill in learning but your skill in warfare should also be praised. Battles are not won solely by wisdom, my friend."

"Very well, you are right. Yet now we must talk strategy. The morning has passed so quickly and already it is time to attend the council. Come, my friend, let us go."

-

The days following the battle were mournful. The residents of the city were forced inside, as rain poured down on the city for two days straight. Merry often watched the rain as it threatened to flood the city. The black clouds showed no signs of moving on, and the rain did not let up. Sam, at first was happy about the rain for it watered his work, and encouraged the flowers to grow, but now he was getting anxious. He complained that his plants would be dead, and drowned by the rain. Merry liked the rain however, he didn't think the sun was appropriate after so much destruction. How could the sun be shining, and dancing around in the sky, when so many brave soldiers were dead? Or when King Elessar, the hope of Middle Earth was no longer alive?

However, after the third day of straight rain, the sun came out slowly from beneath the clouds. Merry smiled at it, it was time for the world to move on. No one would ever forget those who were lost, but a new day had come, and the fight would continue.

Faramir walked into the throne room and saw that it was empty. Since he was so early for the council meeting he had expected that it would be. He felt some comfort in the throne room. Though he never had fond memories with his father here, he did remember some other pleasant moments from his childhood. He remembered when he and his brother would sneak in the room when their father was elsewhere. They would act out the stories of the old kings and Boromir would sit in the King's throne. Faramir never cared for playing the king, rather he would play the elves or wizards, those who were older and wiser. Somehow they never managed to get caught by their father. As he walked past the statues lining the walls he remembered yet another memory of his youth. He remembered when he was a young child and the Grey Pilgrim had arrived to look at the archives. He had entered the throne room expecting to see the Steward of Gondor, instead he saw two small children acting out a great battle. Immediately the two boys stopped and stared at the old man, looking guilty.

"So, Boromir and Faramir, I would have expected to see you at your lessons." said the old man.

"But I don't like our lessons, I would rather study knights and battles and dragons!" said Boromir as he waved his wooden sword around.

"Well, I too will admit that many of the lessons these tutors teach are boring and useless. However, there is more to learn than warfare, there is much in your history that is interesting and worth knowing. For example, do you know who these men are?" Gandalf said as he gestured to the statues.

"Well they are great men in Gondor's history, that is all I know," said Boromir.

"And why are they so great?"

"They are the Kings of Gondor," said Faramir.

"Yes, you are right Faramir, but do you boys know the stories of these kings"

The two boys shook their heads and Gandalf went to each statue and told beautiful stories of bravery, leadership, strength and virtue.

"See, now have you learned something." Said Gandalf.

"Yes, indeed we have. I wish that you were our teacher, I would like my lessons much more if you were." Said Faramir.

Gandalf laughed.

Faramir was pulled out of his reverie but the sound of laughing behind his shoulder. At first he thought that he was simply caught up in the reminiscences, then he realized that it was actually happening. He looked behind him to see Gandalf, who was laughing.

"Do you remember when I caught you and your brother in here as children and taught you the history of the kings."

Faramir laughed, "Of course I remember, It was you that convinced me that lessons were actually worth attending."

Gandalf smiled.

"Mithrandir, there was actually something I wished to tell you."

"Well go ahead, my boy."

"I had a dream, a few nights ago, and I had the same one again last night. It began on the plains of Rohan, I could see the horses riding across the plains, unfettered and free. I saw the glittering caves and there was a blue stone. Then I saw a tomb with strange markings, and a sword, and a hallway leading to a room filled with darkness."

Gandalf merely look at him, puzzled.

"It might have been a meaningless dream but I had this strange feeling. It felt like more than a dream and it lacked the hazy confusion of a dream being surprisingly clear. Do you think it means anything Mithrandir?"

"I am glad you have told me this Faramir, for I do suspect that this was no mere dream. You said, in your dream, that you saw a sword. Do you know anything about the defeat of Melkor? Well he was defeated in a great battle long ago by a valiant man. It was said that this man carried a great sword which was able to defeat Melkor. However Melkor was only defeated in physical form, his spirit lingered and survived these many years. How he has returned now I cannot guess. But I do know that there are certain prophecies that say that with Melkor's return there will come a great hero who will wield this sword into battle. I feel that this dream of yours is a clue to the location of this sword."

Before Faramir could react to all that he had just heard, the great doors opened and men began to enter for the council meeting. All the greatest, of those who remained, were invited to this council. Once all those invited were gathered and seated, Gandalf rose and spoke the first words.

"We have endured much over the past few days. We have had to mourn many, many who died too early. Yet their deaths were not in vain. War has returned to Middle Earth. Though this battle is over Melkor's wrath will be terrible, his retribution swift. He will amass fresh armies and will not stop till the West has fallen under his shadow. Now is the time for action. Our King has indeed fallen and it is a great loss for Gondor and all of Middle Earth. Yet let us make him proud and keep his memory with us during these dark times. Aragorn was a great man and a great leader yet now others shall have to take a stand and assume leadership"

"And I am sure that you would like to be the person to do so!" shouted one man. Then there was a tumult of shouting and arguing. Until one man's voice was heard above the rest.

"War! I thought that we had finished with war when we defeated Sauron!" shouted a noble Gondorian soldier.

"Yes, so did I, so did we all. But Sauron was but a servant to Melkor. We had all believed Melkor to have been defeated, yet we were all deceived for he has returned greater than before. He is the first and greatest evil, his is a god. It will require the unity of us all in order to defeat this greatest of evils once and for all."

"If Melkor is the first and greatest evil, to defeat him would be to defeat evil itself. How can we do this? I believe that we should not risk bringing further death to our people. We cannot risk open war." spoke Anborn.

"Open war it upon you, weather you would risk it or not. War has already come to Gondor, and with it has come the death of many men. Would you have them die in vain? Would you sit and watch the armies of Melkor destroy your beloved country?"

"Trust me, I as much as any man, wishes to defend my country. It is just that it seems we are fighting a losing battle. If we act rashly and confront Melkor, we shall fail, it seems that it is impossible!"

"It is impossible only if you resign yourself to despair. There is hope for victory if you only believe in it." spoke Faramir.

"Hope? What hope do we have to defeat an evil which has always existed, which cannot die? How can you kill evil?" Anborn continued. Faramir was annoyed at Anborn's lack of faith in Mithrandir and their ability to win. So he looked over at Gandalf and they exchanged glances. This reinforced Faramir's confidence. Mithrandir was in charge and Faramir was sure that with him they could not possibly lose.

"There is still hope." Gandalf replied, "For Melkor has one weakness, a weakness which we can use to his downfall. When he was defeated before, in a battle long before our time, there was a sword that banished him into the darkness where he has dwelled ever since. History became legend, legend became myth and for thousands of years this sword passed out of all knowledge. Until now…Now that sword shall be wielded by a great hero, and as prophesied, shall be Melkor's ultimate defeat. All our hope lies in that sword. That is what we must find to gain victory."

"A sword from an ancient battle thousands of years ago? How do we even know that this sword still exists, or even if it ever existed, what hope is there in that mystery?"

"All the hopes all the people of Middle Earth. That is our quest, follow me if you will."

"I will follow you Mithrandir, if by my life or death I can solve this mystery, I will." Faramir said as he walked and stood beside Gandalf smiling.

"I too will follow you, you have led us this far and have not led us astray." Said Legolas and he walked over to Gandalf with tears in his eyes.

One by one, they all got up and stood beside Gandalf, until Anborn sat alone.

"Very well, I see little hope in this quest. But if this be our only way to achieve peace in this land then I shall join you, even if we search in vain." The man said and he stood, and walked over to Gandalf.

"Our search shall begin in Rohan, we shall only bring with us a few men who will be needed. Faramir, Eomer, Merry, would you join me in our journey to Rohan? We shall make ready and leave at dawn in two days."

-

Arwen walked alone through the city. She wandered through the gardens after her walk, and sat down on one of the lower tree branches. In the city she felt so trapped and alone, of course it was different when Aragorn was alive but…no, no she could not think of that, not when it caused her so much pain. She felt much safer around the trees and blooming flowers of the garden. They reminded her so much of Lothlorien. In fact many of the newer trees were of the same seed. Galadriel had once given Samwise a gift of seeds from Lothlorien. Most of them he had used to return the Shire to its original beauty, but he saved some, in order to share with the rest of Middle Earth. She loved the trees in Lorien so much. They were more beautiful than any of the other trees she had ever seen. She felt such a strong need to return there, to watch the leaves fall and cover the ground in gold. She was so engrossed in her memories that she did not even notice that she was no longer alone. Eowyn had wandered into the gardens herself and was kneeling next to the tree.

"Arwen…" started Eowyn, as she put her hand on the elf's, and she was suddenly lost for words. She knew that she should say something comforting, something to help ease her pain, but the words did not come to her, so they sat there in silence.

Suddenly Arwen spoke and her voice was slow and soft," These trees are so beautiful are they not? They remind me so much of Lorien. Oh how I miss Lorien. I wish I could see it again. My heart is calling me there, even though my kin there have all left these shores. I would love the sun on my face and the sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. The golden sunset and the burning red leaves. I am so tired, Eowyn, so very tired. I feel the life of the Eldar has left me. I have given up my life's grace and my immortality, and now I feel so weak and so very tired. I feel an end coming. I must see my home, one last time, before…before I am too tired. I am so sorry; this is probably making no sense to you. I am sorry."

"No, Arwen, no. You should say these things; you cannot keep it all inside."

"But do you understand me, Eowyn. I'm dying. No, don't try to tell me it's not true, because I know in my heart that it is. And I must return home. I must go back to my home to rest, to rest for eternity, until my spirit finds Aragorn in the fields faraway. Where Beren and Luthien are in each others arms, where he waits for me."

"But Arwen, what of your son? You cannot just leave him?"

"I love Eldarion so very much. But I know that I am fading, I am on the verge of leaving the world, and my beloved son. But you must understand that I must return to Lorien. Eldarion is a brave, strong boy. I am sure he will be a great king one day, just like his father. Tell him I love him, Eowyn, I want him to know that. Promise me you will tell him, and that you will take care of him after….after I've gone."

"I promise, I promise." Said Eowyn, and Arwen rose, slowly, kissed her on the forehead, and then walked away. That was the last time Eowyn, or any other mortal, saw Arwen Undomiel.