Here's another chapter. After I didn't post for so long, I'm going to get these chapters out quick. I'm on vacation and finally have the time. I hope you enjoy it, and remember, we don't own any of the characters. We wish we did, but they belong to Tolkien, whoever wrote Gladiator, Homer, everyone but else basically.

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After the company traveling to Rohan departed, Paris returned to his room. However he could not focus, he tried to distract himself by reading, fencing, shooting arrows, but nothing could take his mind off of her. They had not even spoken, he had merely seen her across the room and felt something he could not even identify. Yet now he knew what it was. He had known many beautiful women during his life and they were nothing more to him than prizes. With Lucilla however, it was somehow different. He remembered the previous night's goodbye dinner. That night she was indeed beautiful, her dark brown hair and alabaster skin offset by her deep crimson dress. Her long hair was plaited down her back with red ribbons. However what made her stand out among the other beautiful women were her dark eyes. Behind those eyes laid a keen intelligence and wit which separated her from the fawning, vapid women he was used to knowing. He knew that this was a woman who knew something of the world; one who had endured joy and pain. Then there was her smile. During dinner he saw that she talked intently with the woman beside her, and though she maintained a composed, sophisticated demeanor throughout most of the dinner, she would occasionally smile and in that smile was revealed all her compassion, love and humility.

He kept forgetting that he did not even know this woman. How could he feel so strongly for a woman he had only just met? He had been introduced to her and for a moment their eyes met as he took her hand and kissed it. He wanted to say something intelligent and charming yet he could find no words. Romance had always come naturally to him and he never had trouble wooing women, yet he did now. As he was about to speak she was dragged off by her brother in order to finish the rounds of introductions. His hands immediately ached with the loss of hers. He spoke very little during that dinner. He had tried to make conversation, yet it was forced and constantly interrupted because his eyes would wander over to her and he'd lose concentration. Eventually the dinner ended and he returned to his room. He hadn't known how conspicuous he had been at dinner until Hector knocked on his door very soon after dinner. Hector had seen how he stared at Lucilla though he claimed that no one else had noticed. Paris had never before known love and was unsure as to his feelings, so he asked his brother how one would know if they were in love.

"May I ask you something, and will you be truly honest?" Paris asked Hector hesitantly.

Hector laughed, "The last time you spoke to me like this you were ten years old and you'd just stolen father's horse. What have you done now?"

"Well, it is not about something I've done, it's about something I feel. Brother, when did you first realize that you were in love with Andromache? How did you know that it was different, and even if it was different how did you know that it was necessarily love and not something else?"

"Well, little brother, that is a very difficult question to answer. I remember when I first met Andromache that it felt like the most normal thing in the world. It felt as if she had always been in my life and I tried to imagine my life before I met her and I could not. She had this grace and humor about her that was irresistible. Then her face showed so much about her character. I could tell that she tried to hide her emotions and keep a serious demeanor yet through that shone her humor and happiness. It was almost intoxicating. I guess that is what love is."

"So you think that it is possible to know a person better than you've ever known someone even if you have never spoken?"

"Well actually, yes, yes I believe that is possible."

Paris merely nodded at this and his eyes stared off into the blankness of the bare stone wall.

"Well, never would I have thought I'd see the day that my little brother would fall in love and be tamed by a woman." Hector said as they both smiled.

Paris was snapped out of his daydreaming by a knock at the door. He got up off the bed and opened the door.

"My Lord Paris, I hope I did not disturb you?"

"Oh no, no you did not."

"Well I just came to inform you that dinner will be served in one hour up in the great hall."

"Thank you, I shall see you up there."

Paris shut the door and paced around his room for a few moments before he opened his door and stepped out into the hallway. He had not planned where he was going, he simply walked. It was a beautiful day and the reflection of the setting sun off the white stone lit up the city in crimson and violet. He started walking toward the great hall, even though he was much too early for dinner. Instead of entering the hall he continued to walk and found himself entering the Citadel and walking down into the great archives of Gondor. He had only been down there a few times, since he had never cared much for the life of the scholar. Yet he felt naturally attracted to it and he perused the dusty shelves looking for he knew not what. He picked up a scroll, one of the few that was actually written in the Common Tongue, most were written in Elvish or indecipherable runes.

He read and realized that it was a history of the Kings of Gondor. He had only been reading for a few moments when he heard a rustle of papers. He saw nothing moving so he got up and walked over to the other side of the shelves. He stood there for a moment, mouth gaping, because sitting there clad in light blue, was Lucilla. She had several scrolls fanned out in front of her, most of which were in languages unknown to him. He stood there for a moment until the large amount of dust caused him to sneeze and her to look up.

"Oh, I am sorry I did not see anyone there. You are the Prince Paris, right? I remember meeting you at the dinner the other night, unfortunately we did not get to speak on that occasion. But what are you doing down here in the archives?"

It took Paris a moment to understand all that she had said. At first the immediate shock of her speaking made it difficult to pay attention, then the elation that followed her saying his name prevented him from truly understanding the rest of her statement.

"Oh, uh, um, I am just exploring, there is so much fascinating history in these archives and I am sorry to say that I have explored very little of it in my visits here. However, may I ask the same question of you? What does a princess like yourself have to find in a dusty old archive"

"Well, a princess like myself can find much in such an archive. There is more to a princess than dresses and dinners. I happen to love studying the old languages, as much as my limited training will allow me. Right now I am searching for some information on the Kings of Gondor and their relation to the royalty in Rohan, perhaps there is some sort of connection that will explain the journey being taken"

"You are searching for information on the kings? Wait just a moment…" Paris said as he rushed out to find the scroll he had been viewing. He was in a daze and could not believe that he was actually talking to Lucilla. He had again tried to be charming but what had happened was something entirely different. He hoped that he was making a good impression on her. He grabbed the scroll and rushed back and handed it to her.

"Here it is, I hope this will be useful."

"Where did you find this? This is amazing…" she said as she read the scroll.

She continued reading for awhile then stopped. "I couldn't find any connection, however this is very informative and useful. We must remember to show this to Gandalf when they return. So do you come often to Minas Tirith?"

Paris was initially surprised when she asked him a question about himself and it took a minute for him to answer.

"Well, I would come more often as a child, I had not been to Minas Tirith for many years. There have been many troubles in our land. Our borders have required relentless defense, orcs have been attacking and it has required much of our attention. My father Imrahil, has sent many armies, led by my brother, Hector, out to defend our land. Hector, had been away defending our country only to return home to be sent away again. Alas, we have not visited Minas Tirith in peace for many a year."

"Yes, I should feel lucky that back home in Rome it is peaceful and safe. Our country is a new settlement and has not yet endured the attacks of the orcs. However my brother did not trust to have me remain there. He felt that if the orcs should choose to attack Rome there would be too few men to defend it. Of course the rogue orcs are no more, they have all joined with the Dark Lord to be in his armies. So I feel that Rome is safe. Well, as safe as anywhere else in Middle Earth. These are no longer safe times, they are indeed perilous times. I only hope that when I return to Rome that it will not be in ashes, or worse, controlled by the Dark Lord."

"No, no it will not. My reason tells me that we are facing our doom but my heart is light. Lucilla, now that I have you I believe that no darkness will endure." Paris spoke passionately as he took her hand and brought it to his lips.

After arriving in Rohan and attending a great feast, the travelers gathered in the Golden Hall for what was meant to be a short meeting before retiring for the night.

Following tradition, Eomer, as king of the realm, was the first to speak, "I would like to welcome all of you to Rohan. I hope that you find the city of my fathers to be comfortable enough after our long journey. Beds have been set up in the rooms and you all may retire to them if you wish. I know that we are all exhausted and could use the rest to gather strength for the days to come. I bid you goodnight."

Eomer bowed and was about to leave the room when the voice of a young man called him back.

"Wait just a moment! Before we retire for the night, I would like to know our intentions in Rohan. How long do we plan on staying? And for what purpose? I decided to come on this journey in Minas Tirith and I assumed that those in change had a plan in coming here. Now that we have arrived, I demand to know what is going on."

Eomer just stood, dumfounded for a moment, when Faramir stood up and replied to the man's interrogations.

"May I answer this question, Eomer, it is because of me that we are here?" Faramir asked, and Eomer nodded.

"I know that you all have your questions and your doubts, and rightfully so. Aragorn was a great king and a great man. We are only trying to protect our world as he would have done, and I truly believe that our coming here is necessary in order to accomplish that."

"But why should we trust you? What reason have you given us to know that we are not merely here on a whim? Or worse, in order to run from the battle, which is not in Rohan but in Gondor, on its very doorstep? Who knows, perhaps the enemy is there now, feasting in our halls and sleeping in our beds?"

Faramir was about to speak but before he could, Mithrandir's voice echoed in the hall, "If you are accusing Faramir, Steward of Gondor, of treachery then you may as well accuse any man in this room. Faramir has done nothing but defend and protect his country his entire life. Who fought bravely at Osgiliath when it was Gondor's last defense against Sauron's forces?"

"Yes, and who also ran away when the enemy was too much for him? That is not bravery to me, Mithrandir, no, that is cowardice."

"Indeed Faramir and his men fled, but that was to protect his men. He knew that he was fighting a losing battle and believed it better to return to defend Minas Tirith. It is a brave man who knows when to retreat and when to fight. There is no shame in that. Indeed, when Denethor asked Faramir to return to Osgiliath, he returned, although he knew it would mean his death. I had tried to convince him to stay but he refused, valuing his country more than his life. You are but a young man and do not yet understand the way of war. You fought in one battle and now feel that you are an expert in the area, but you are not. You will find no man more loyal and true than Faramir, I can assure you."

"Really, loyal you say? Well I find it very suspicious that with Aragorn dead, Faramir is so quick to become the leader. Perhaps he has regretted giving up all that power so long ago? Perhaps he secretly longed for the days of the Stewards?"

"Faramir had no desire for power and gave it up willingly. Something which I have yet to see another man do. He was given absolute power, yet did not wish for it, in fact he gave it up. How many men could have done the same?"

It appeared as if Gandalf had won the debate, because the man remained silent and stalked out of the room, and the rest of the men followed after, until just Gandalf and Faramir remained.

"Do not let them trouble you, Faramir," Gandalf said, as he placed a hand on his shoulder, "Even Aragorn was not accepted by everyone, there are always those who are difficult to convince. But pay no mind to them, one day they shall see. One day they will understand….Goodnight."

And Gandalf walked out of the room, and down the hallway, leaving Faramir alone in the hall.

Everyone talked lively, and laughed while they ate, except Paris. He ate but his eyes remained on Lucilla who sat across from him. She knew the young man was looking at her, but she did not return the stare.

When she got up suddenly as the meal was ending, Paris jumped up too. He spoke quickly, "May I walk with you?" He asked to the amusement of everyone gathered.

Lucilla agreed at once. Paris quickly walked to the other side of the table and took her arm. They walked out with the eyes of everyone on them.

Hector and Maximus exchanged a smile but both went back to their meal.

"It's a beautiful evening for a walk," Paris commented.

"Where do you live Paris?" Lucilla asked. She looked at the tall young man with his curly dark hair and his brown eyes. "We have talked about my home, what of yours? What is it like?"

"In Dol Amroth," He responded. He looked back at her, her beautiful brown eyes stared back into his.

"Is it nice there?"

"Yes, it is quite beautiful," Paris nodded. "I do hate to leave it."

"It is on the coast, is it not?" Lucilla asked.

"That it is," Paris smiled. "Its beautiful. The water is so blue, and in the mornings as the sun rises it reflects off the water, it is quite a sight. I have watched the sun rise many times, and also set. The water is so blue and clear; you can see the fish swimming around in the water. As far as the eye can see it is blue. I watch the sunrise and sometimes it is indescribable. The way the sun hits the water as it rises… and the birds as they fly looking for their morning meal."

"I've never seen a sight like that," Lucilla told him sadly.

"Then, when all this is over, you must come with me, and together we can watch the sun," Paris told her.

"I would like that," she smiled and moved closer to him, "I would like that ever so much."

He smiled down at her and together they walked through the streets of Gondor ignoring everyone but each other.

Hector had gone to his room shortly after his brother had left the table. He wandered around in his room for awhile feeling restless. He tried to find sleep, but none came to him. He walked to the balcony and looked out toward the city. The breeze came and hit his bare chest. He closed his eyes for a second, glad of the breeze, as he was feeling hot. He opened them again and looked out toward the city. He always had loved Minas Tirith, and when he was younger took advantage of any time spent in the city in the company of his two older cousins. He was about to go back into his room, when he caught sight of two figures walking down below his room. He smiled as he recognized his brother's figure. He had noticed the look in Paris' eyes and knew something had changed in his behavior.

"Oh Andromache," He whispered. "I wish I could see you." He now left the balcony and went to the desk where he picked up the latest letter from his wife. She wrote him daily about the doings of the city and their son. He missed both terribly. He sat down at the desk and considered his reply letter to her.