Hi! I'm back!
I am so, so sorry it took so long for me to update. You have no idea how crazy college has gotten. It's insane! I have no free time. Sorry again.
I've decided to write it half Bookverse/half Movieverse. I like in the book how Faramir had a vision of the ring "Seek the sword that was broken, in Imladris it dwells…" It seems to have been skipped over in the movies, but I loved the idea of visions and premonitions almost. So, if some of the facts don't fit the movies, then they are probably from the book.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate it. 110 reviews! Ah! You guys seriously rock!
I know some people had some problems with the last chapter, and I'll admit that it wasn't my finest work. However, it was just a stop gap measure. I just wanted to get to these chapters.
Ok, I've decided. Endara is not going to get what is coming to her in this fic. Now, before you all start screaming obscenities at me, and throwing tomatoes at me (again!) just hear me out. She is not going to get what's coming to her in this one because there will be … (drum roll please) … a SEQUEL! That is, if you want one. Let me know. I have it planned out already, so if you want one, just let me know. Of course, Éowyn is going to slap her towards the end of this one, no matter what. I had to let her do it. She threatened to taunt me with pics of nekkid Faramir if she didn't!
Ok, on with the most important part… my humble thanks.
Gray Eyed Fighter: I know what you mean. On the one hand, Éowyn is really cool. On the other, I want to kill her! She has my boy! She better treat him right or I'll come after her with… a cooking book! Well, she is in her twenties now, so the age difference doesn't matter much. Faramir is in Rohan because he is tracking the Uruk's, and has been for a few weeks.
Vor Tirla Laime: You know what we can do to make the hobbits even scarier? Take away their dinners! Mwah ha ha! Mmmmmm… Aragorn…. He's the third best looking man in ME, after Faramir (duh!) and Éomer. 'sigh' Well, Faramir wont spit on Grima. He'll probably just threaten him. Enjoy!
Tasya: Oh there is a lot more to come. I don't know how many chapters yet, but I have a lot to write. I can't say what Grima will do, just read on to find out.
Sidhe-ranma: The answers to all you questions, and more, can be found inside. Come on; read on… you know you want to….
Susan W: I just had this image in my head of the meeting between them. I'll let you in on a little secret. The entire reason I wrote this fic is because I had this image of a meeting between the two of them in Rohan, and I wanted to give them a proper background, not just a two page one. I'm not sure how much the Hama and others are going to feature on this part, but I'll try to put them in again at least once. And Grima will be even greasier than ever.
Grima: Hey, I'm not greasy!
ForeverFaramir: Yes you are, you little ball of slime.
(Grima slinks off in a huff to poison Théoden's mind some more.)
Hama: What? What did she say?
Mablung: She said Grima was greasy, and a slime ball.
Hama: No. I mean the other thing.
Anborn: Oh. I think she said that we weren't going to be in it much.
Gamling: Cool. So, you big tough rangers ever try Rohirric ale?
(Anborn, Damrod and Mablung exchange uneasy glances)
Damrod: Um… no.
(Hama and Gamling exchange evil grins.)
Hama: Excellent. Follow us.
ForeverFaramir: Um, guys? Ranger dudes? You really shouldn't be drinking if you all are injured.
All the ranger dudes: Aw, nuts!
Gamling: Don't worry. We'll look after them
ForeverFaramir: That's what I'm afraid of. I remember when you said you would 'take care' of Elladan and Elrohir when they swung by for the party last week. You had them passed out in an hour! And Elves are almost impossible to get drunk! Now you can go, if you promise to behave yourselves.
Gamling and Hama: (in singsong voices) We promise.
ForeverFaramir: Ok then, you guys can go while I write the responses. But I want you lot back here, and sober for the scene in the healer's place, ok?
Anborn/Damrod/Mablung: Yes Ma'am.
ForeverFaramir: Why don't I believe them? Ok, on we go.
Rebby: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. You know how busy I've been. Hope you enjoy the Faramir/Éowyn goodness!
Elenhin: How could stay angry at him for long? I mean, all he has to do his flash his pretty blue eyes, and all is forgiven. Now, Éowyn understands that Faramir didn't do cheat on her. She has also grown up enough to understand that she had no claim to him in the first place. Oh yeah. You can always tell its Viggo. It's the chin. Very unusual. Very sexy. Oh sugar! I just realised that that is where you got o suicra from. LOL! And yes, coke and Pringles are a proper breakfast. They are full of… um… pringily nutrients and coke-y goodness. Yes, that's it. Pringely and coke-y goodness. Enjoy the chapter.
The bad speller: Thank you! I hope you like the chapter.
Yerathiel: Well, we'll hear more form Endara later on. I'm not giving anything away though. Hope you like the chapter.
Rana Nique: You think it's sweet that Faramir is injured? Oookkkaayyy… 'backs away slowly from the crazed reviewer.' Nah, I'm only kidding. I couldn't hurt him too bad, so relax. I'm planning a sequel, so Endara is going to get her chance at revenge. I'll admit, angst is good. I'm a sucker for happy endings though. I'm also a hopeless romantic, so expect a very fluffy wedding scene. (Gasp. Oh no, I just gave away the ending…) Yeah right. AS IF I could not make it a happy ending for Faramir. Personally, I think he would be happier with me, but he chose Éowyn. (Anyone want to go Éowyn hunting? Anyone? Nobody? Fine!)
Lackwit: A Mary Sue? Argh! Unclean! Unclean! 'Runs up to the bathroom and scrubs herself down with hot water, industrial strength soap and chlorine' Ah, that's better. Thanks for the review. The way I see it, they were only crushing on each other in the past. Now, it is love, rather than infatuation. Éowyn's birthday is going to come into it, so that is why I have it down as 23 not 24. Also, I was planning on having describing Grima from Faramir's point of view. I'm also planning on writing something on Éowyn's change of personality. Patience, my friend. I know there were some holes in the plot, but every chapter can't be perfect. Hope you like the chapter.
Ziroana: Hey, that's a good idea! I might try that in a later fic. A coma? Well, I can't be responsible for a fellow writer falling ill, now can I? I can guarantee you that there will be chapters likely to put you in a coma from sugar shock. They'll be that sweet. I'm thinking of their wedding… Thanks for the review (and the idea)
LinNicole: I couldn't do that to them! Also, I wanted to write Éowyn's reaction to Aragorn in relation to Faramir, and I couldn't do that if she was comparing him to a memory of a man. Well, Grima is going to have lots of fun trying to screw with them.
Flowerbee1: I know, I know. It wasn't my finest hour. But not every chapter can be as perfect as they usually are 'neck snaps at the extra weight of ForeverFaramir's big head' Damn! It happened again! Anyone got any glue?
Fealaurin: What? You mean you don't think Orcs are cute and cuddly? You have no taste at all… only joking. You have taste. Oodles of it. You're reading my story aren't you? That's proof enough. Well, seven years is a long time. I think back to when I was sixteen (a few years ago now), and I'm like… Girl, you were an idiot! What were you thinking? Thanks for reviewing. Hope you like the chapter.
Geegi: Ah, fresh blood… only kidding. Thank you so much for your kind comments, and for reviewing. I haven't had a chance to read you fic yet, because college has been insane. But, you have my word that I will read it as soon as I get some time, ok? I hope you enjoy the rest of the fic.
Aragorn Loves: Hiya! Thank you so much for reviewing and the compliments. I'm sure yours isn't cliché. I haven't had a chance to read it yet, but I will as soon as I get the time. Enjoy the chapter!
TyandSteph: Thanks Pam. Hope you enjoy the chapter.
I don't know if Rohan had a house of Healing, like Minas Tirith. However, I am putting it in this fic, because it works.
XXXX
The sun was high in the sky when they reached the gates of Edoras. Faramir sighed in relief. His side was hurting him but more importantly, Damrod was in need of medical help. He also wanted to look in on his men. But first, he knew he would have to go speak with Théoden King.
Éowyn directed Hama to show the rangers to their healing house to get seen to, while she and Faramir spoke to the King. They dismounted (Faramir did so slowly, but Éowyn didn't notice) and they made the short trip up the hill. Before they reached the steps up, Éowyn turned to face him.
"Faramir," she began, "before you enter the hall, there is something you should know. Uncle has… much changed since you last saw him."
"I have heard reports that he was unwell, but…"
"It is more than that. Yes, he was ill and he hasn't yet recovered. A shadow has descended over him, and he is not the same man you once knew. He barely moves, and barely speaks. I'm worried about him Faramir."
Faramir pulled her into a loose hug and she gratefully went into his embrace. It felt good to be in his arms again. She felt safe. Éowyn pulled away after a moment, and together, they went up the steps and into the Meduseld.
The entered the darkened hall and Faramir squinted so his eyes could adjust from the bright sunshine outside. He and Éowyn walked towards the great throne set at the back of the hall and Faramir knelt before the King. Théoden however barely even tilted his head to acknowledge their presence. Faramir was shocked by the Kings appearance, but tried not to show it. Éowyn began speaking to the King.
"Uncle, as I am sure Hama or Gamling told you that we were attacked by Uruk-Hai. Lord Faramir and his rangers had been tracking them and intervened. They saved us. Several of his rangers have been injured in the process. I have offered them the hospitality of the city until they are healed."
Again, Théoden made no response.
"We graciously accept Lady Éowyn's offer my Lord. You have our humble thanks," Faramir told the king but Rohan's ruler didn't even blink.
However, they did get a response form someone else.
"You bring Gondor into our Halls?" Grima hissed stepping out from behind the King's throne. Faramir stood, shocked by the appearance of the man in front of him.
Gone was Grima, proud Rider of Rohan.
In his place stood a shrunken, hollow little man. His skin looked as if he had not seen the sun's rays in many years, and his clothes hung off his thin frame. His greasy hair hung limply down around his face and his shoulders were slightly hunched.
"Grima?" Faramir asked incredulously. He couldn't connect the man he had known and liked to the man that stood before him.
"That is Counselor Wormtongue to you!" Grima spat. "My Lady," he said, turning to Éowyn "You cannot bring enemies of Rohan into these halls."
"Enemies? We are not Rohan's enemies!" Faramir exclaimed.
"Neither are you her allies! Therefore you cannot stay. The king would not wish you to be here, no matter the service you were to the White Lady."
"Then let us ask my uncle, shall we?" Éowyn asked, eyes blazing. She made to step nearer the king, but Wormtongue blocked her path.
"The King is tired my lady. There is no need to trouble him."
"Until I hear it from his own lips, then the men of Gondor are welcome here! Moreover, they are my friends, and my friends are always welcome here. They will stay as long as they need or wish. Do not contradict me Grima. You are after all, Counselor Wormtongue, not the king!"
Grima bowed to her, though it obviously pained him to do so, and Éowyn spun on her heal and left the hall. Faramir bowed to the stationary king, and then followed Éowyn out of hall. He found her standing, gazing out over the plains. He could tell by the way she hugged herself that she was very upset.
"Éowyn, what is happening here?" Faramir asked her quietly, coming to stand behind her.
"Much has changed in seven years Faramir," she told him quietly. "Théoden has been ill, and fallen to shadow. Wormtongue, as you saw, has changed so much, whispering and poisoning the king's mind. I am certain that he is the cause of Théoden's illness, but I cannot prove it! I can do nothing but watch." A silent tear fell down her cheek, but she brushed it away. She had no time for tears.
"What of your brother? What of your cousin? Surely Éomer and Théodred know of this?"
"They do, but they spent little time at home. Orcs become bolder, and cross our lands freely. As second and third Marshall's, they are constantly patrolling the borders, only coming home for a week at a time at most. They are as powerless to stop him as I am."
"I am sorry Éowyn," Faramir told her, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Truly I am."
"There is nothing you can do," Éowyn told him quietly. "Come, I will show you to the healing house. You can see to your men."
She led him to one of the larger structures in Edoras. It was near the top of the hill, and there she left him at the door.
"I must go change out of these," she told him, indicating to her bloodied and torn clothing. "But I will be back shortly. Your men are being taken care of by Sigefolc. He is the only healer in the city at the moment because the rest are gone to the Eastfold. There was a skirmish there recently and they are needed. However, Sigefolc is one of Rohan's most skilled healers, so do not worry. Your men will be fine. I will see you soon."
Faramir watched her walk away with a heavy heart. She had to endure so much, yet she remained strong. She was a marvel. He felt pride and admiration when he thought of her, but also something else, something he did not yet wish to acknowledge.
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The House of Healing consisted of four rooms. There was a large hospital room with several cots in it and the Ithilien Rangers were currently occupying a few of them. There was a store-room, a small surgery room and an office. Demeth lay in a cot, and was covered by sheets. His deep breathing indicated a medicine induced sleep.
Sigefolc was currently cleaning and stitching the wound in Mablung's side. Mablung was also in a deep sleep thanks to the healer's herbs, so the process went quickly. Damrod lay on another cot, a bandage around his leg. He felt no pain thanks to the concoction that Sigefolc had forced him to drink, and he sat there with a silly smile on his face. The other rangers were scattered around the room, either cleaning their own small cuts, or helping a friend.
"So tell us about the Lady Éowyn," Damrod asked as Sigefolc finished stitching up the wound in Mablung's side.
"Yes, do please" Anborn added as he looked up from cleaning the cut on his arm. "We have heard many things about her. We have heard that she is beautiful, and we saw that for ourselves. But, they say that she is cold; she is aloof; she barely speaks; she is uncaring. However, we have seen nothing of the sort since we me her. Indeed, she is warm, caring and funny."
"What you have heard was told by people who do not know her," Sigefolc told them. "Lady Éowyn has had to deal with a lot over the years, and she believes, as do I, that it is unfair to expect her to perform to strangers. So for the past six or seven years she has simply concentrated on her duties to Rohan."
"You speak as if you know her well," Anborn observed.
"I do," the aging healer told them. "I aided the mid-wife at her birth right here in Edoras. She has come to me with all her cuts, bruises and hurts since she was a small child. She even spent a few months with me in here, learning the craft. I know she seems aloof to strangers, but she is warm and kind to the people she knows and loves."
The rangers were silent as Sigefolc quickly bound Mablung's side, and went through the adjoining door to the store room to collect fresh supplies to help Damrod. The rangers digested the information he had given them.
Suddenly, a smile spread across Damrod's face.
"What are you grinning at?" Anborn asked him. "You about to get stitches put in your leg."
"I'm just doing the math."
"Excuse me?"
"Did you not hear what the healer said? Lady Éowyn is only warm and caring to those she knows and loves."
"So?"
"So, did you not see her with Captain Faramir? If that is not warm and caring, loving even, then I do not know what is."
"What are you suggesting?"
"Oh, come on! She has been aloof to people for about six or seven years! And how long ago did relations break down between our two countries?"
"Seven years ago…" Anborn mused. "Oh come on. You don't think…"
"Think what?" Faramir asked from the doorway. He hadn't heard what these two were talking about, but from the guilty flushes in their faces, he could hazard a guess. Honestly, they were worse than fisherman's wives to gossip!
"Um… think that we will be here for over a week?" Anborn finished lamely. He was so embarrassed to be caught gossiping. The other Rangers hid their smiles and laughs in fits of coughing, and Faramir grinned.
"Sure you were," he told the blushing Anborn. "Damrod, how are you?" he asked the injured ranger who was sitting on the bed, giggling.
"I'm f…fine Captain Faramir," Damrod told him, trying to get himself under control. He looked at Faramir again, and burst into another round of giggles.
Faramir turned to Anborn. "Medicine?" he asked with an arched eyebrow. Anborn confirmed it with a nod of his head and a grin on his face. A giddy Damrod was like a comedy show. They had experienced it before when he had been injured, and had lain in fever. Damrod had giggled the entire night!
Faramir went to all his other Rangers, and asked how they were. Thankfully there were no more serious injuries. Then he finally sought out Sigefolc in his office.
"Come in," Sigefolc called when Faramir knocked quietly at the door. "Ah, Captain Faramir," he said when he saw who it was. "What can I do for you?"
"I just wanted to hear from you how Mablung and Demeth were faring."
"Trust me my Lord, they will heal completely. Their wounds looked a lot worse than they actually are. The amount of blood lost can be off-putting I know. They will be up and around in a few days."
"Sooner than that if I know my men," Faramir smiled. Mablung especially had a history of hating being ill or in bed. "Are you going to fix up Damrod's leg now?" Faramir asked when he saw the basket of supplies that Sigefolc was lifting.
"Yes. It will take some time I think, because the wound is deep and will need cleansing. Don't worry though," he said seeing Faramir's face. "He will be fine also."
"Ok, that's great," Faramir said, following the man out. Faramir had been hoping that Sigefolc could fix himself up quickly, so his men would not see. Nothing brought down the morale of a company like having their Captain injured. He could wait though. His men came first.
XXXXX
Éowyn washed and changed quickly, eager to get back to Faramir. Seeing him again was a surprise; that was for sure. But it was a welcome one nonetheless. She truly had missed him, him and Boromir both.
She was not seriously hurt; just a few cuts and bruises. Éowyn quickly slipped on a new dress and brushed her hair into some semblance of order. Her dress was a beautiful blue colour, the same colour of Faramir's eyes. He had grown even more handsome since she had last seen him. He had the kindest eyes she had ever seen in a man, and his smile lifted her worries.
Éowyn finished up and picked up the crumpled dress on the floor. It was ruined beyond repair. There were several irreparable tears in it and half one side was covered in blood…
Covered in way more blood than it should have been.
Éowyn was confused. Where had the blood come from? She had no injuries there.
Faramir!
That was the only explanation. He was injured and he didn't tell her! Thinking back, she remembered winces and soft grunts of pain as they had traveled to Edoras. The blood must have gotten on her dress when he hugged her.
The foolish man probably didn't want his men to know, because they had enough concerns with half their company injured. He was just honourable enough to endanger himself like that.
She dropped the dress and moved quickly to the door. He did not want to concern his men. Well, fine. She would just wait until they were out of their hearing range before she gave him a proper scolding.
Éowyn reached the House of Healing fairly swiftly. Her exasperation at the Gondorian Captain gave her added speed. She spotted Faramir coming out of the door of the hospital room, and marched forward, a scolding on the tip of her tongue. However, her words died before they reached her lips when she came closer to him.
He hadn't seen her yet. He was clutching his side in pain, and a soft moan escaped his lips. He was covered in sweat, but his face looked pale and clammy. Éowyn knew it wasn't vanity that kept him silent. He was keeping silent so his men would not be worried. She reached out to touch his shoulder.
"How bad is it Faramir?" she asked of him as he spun around to face her. It was a testament to how distracted he was that he hadn't heard her approach. The man was a ranger after all, and one could almost never creep up on a Ranger. (The Valar knows she and her brother and cousin had tried often enough to no avail)
"How bad is what Éowyn?" he asked, trying, and failing, to keep his voice from wavering.
Éowyn didn't say a word, just raised an eyebrow in his direction. Faramir couldn't hold her stare, and he couldn't lie to her about his injury. This was Éowyn he was talking to. He could be honest with her. He didn't have to be the Brave Captain of the Ithilien Rangers with her. He could be just Faramir.
Éowyn could see the indecision in his eyes. She led him into the small room where necessary operations were usually performed and closed the door.
"Show me," she told him. "I've trained here. I can help you."
Faramir took off his cloak and his outer, long leather jerkin. (He had left his bow, quiver, sword and small bag in the hospital room with the other rangers) A quick glance at there clothes confirmed that they were stained with blood. Faramir lifted the side of his tunic, and Éowyn gasped at the long slash that ran along his side. It wasn't life threatening, but it looked extremely painful.
Éowyn ran a healers hand over the wound, and Faramir hissed in pain.
"That wound must be cleaned," she told him. "Don't worry, I can fix you up."
"Will that involve stitches?" Faramir asked, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Maybe," Éowyn answered, narrowing her eyes at him. "Why?"
"Well, I've seen your embroidery…" Faramir started laughing at the expression on Éowyn's face and Éowyn slapped him on the arm. Faramir's arm jerked and pain flashed through his side. He hissed in discomfort, and Éowyn was immediately contrite.
"Oh Gods, I'm sorry Faramir," she told him. "Come on, take off your tunic and lie down on the table. I'll go get some thread and a very large needle, just in case."
Faramir laughed at that and did as she bade him. Éowyn smiled to herself as she quietly washed her hands and collected what she needed to cleanse the wound. It was good to laugh with Faramir again. He always made her feel so happy.
She slipped back into the room, but was stopped short at the sight in front of her. Faramir had taken off his shirt, and was taking a small leather pouch from around his neck. He placed it carefully on the table and lay down.
Éowyn was no stranger to the male form. One did not live in a city of warriors and horse-lords without seeing men without their shirts every so often. Still, she had never seen Faramir without his shirt before. He was tightly muscled and tanned. A light covering of hair covered his chest, and Éowyn felt her mouth go dry.
Éowyn shook her head to clear it. What was she thinking? He was just another patient. There was no need for her to go all starry eyed.
"I'm back," she announced brightly as she stepped up to the table. Faramir smiled weekly at her. He must be in a lot of pain.
Éowyn tried to keep up a light flow of banter as she began to clean the wound.
"You need a haircut," she told him.
"Not again," Faramir groaned.
"What?"
"The last time you decided I needed a haircut, I ended up with hair cut at a slant."
"It was your own fault. You moved and the scissors slipped." Éowyn defended herself, but Faramir saw the sparkle in her eyes.
"I was asleep!" Faramir laughed and Éowyn blushed.
"I was twelve," she reminded him.
Faramir grinned at her and Éowyn smiled back before going back to work. She finished cleaning the wound, but it would need stitching.
"Faramir, I going to have to sew this closed. Please, try to keep still. Try not to move."
"Yes Ma'am," Faramir teased. He was familiar with stitches so he knew the drill.
Faramir closed his eyes in pain as she began.
He was familiar with stitches. That didn't mean he had to like them.
"Hold still Faramir. I'm trying to sew my name," Éowyn told him, and Faramir smiled slightly.
Éowyn couldn't embroider to save her life, but she was fast and efficient when it came to this type of sewing. She finished quickly, even though it was a long cut.
"I'm finished," she told him. Faramir's face was turned away from her, and she laid her hand on his head. "You can relax now."
Something clicked inside Faramir at the touch of Éowyn's hand on his head. Everything seemed to fall into place.
He loved her.
Oh, he had tried to deny it. He had convinced himself years ago that he was over her; that he had never really loved her in the first place; that it had just been infatuation. He saw that now for what it was… a defence mechanism.
He remembered the fear that struck him when he saw her fighting near the wood. The horror he felt when he saw that orc coming towards her, and the satisfaction he felt when he loosed the arrow that felled the beast. When he caught her up in his arms, he had felt complete. It pained him that Grima hurt her so much, and he wished that he could help her. All this flashed through his mind at the touch of her hand, and he felt at peace in her presence.
The truth was actually quite liberating. He loved Éowyn, and had for many years.
Faramir turned his head to look at her, and Éowyn gasped at what she saw in his eyes.
Love. Pure, unadulterated love.
Without conscious thought, she stroked his hair to offer what comfort she could. It was so soft, and a smile lit up his features. She felt an answering smile form on her own face.
This felt right. It felt right as nothing ever had before. Éowyn felt her heart fill with love as she gazed at the man before her. She had been fooling herself, thinking that all she felt for him was friendship. She knew now that she loved Faramir, and had for a long, long time.
It just took her seeing him again for her to realise it.
If either of them were asked later how long they had simply stared into each other's eyes, neither could tell you. They just both knew in that moment that this was right. That they were right together.
The sound of a door closing broke them apart. Éowyn straightened up and Faramir sat upright, albeit slowly.
"Captain Faramir?" Anborn's voice floated in from the corridor.
"In here Anborn," Faramir called as Éowyn wrapped a bandage around his torso. Anborn walked in, and immediately stopped short.
"Captain, you are injured!" he exclaimed, running over to his captain.
"It is nothing, I assure you. It is just a scratch."
"I have taken care of it," Éowyn added. "Don't worry. Your illustrious leader will be fine." She grinned at the two rangers. "I'll go have rooms prepared for you in the Meduseld. The evening meal will be served in about an hour. If you can make it, please, do come. You are most welcome. You remember where the visitor's dining room is don't you Faramir?"
Faramir nodded and Éowyn left the room, turning to give him a little wave before she left. Faramir grinned and Anborn turned around to see what his captain was grinning at. All he saw was a closing door.
"Captain, why didn't you tell us you were hurt? You could have ridden ahead," Anborn asked Faramir as the captain pulled on his tunic.
"Anborn, relax. I am fine. I swear it. Now, let us get out fellow rangers ready to dine. We cannot bring down the good name of Gondor!"
The door opened again, and Éowyn poked her head on.
"Oh, and I'll send you down some fresh clothes. Preferably ones that aren't bloodstained. We can't have you bringing down the good name of Gondor, can we?"
"Cheeky!" Faramir called as she left again, and the two rangers could hear her answering laugh float down the hall.
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Ok, I am sorry it was so short. I wanted to make it longer, but I'm just so unbelievably busy at the moment that I am this close 'holds up thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart' to quitting college and becoming a nun!
I'll try to get more written soon, ok?
As always, reviews are my life's blood.
Flames are my Kryptonite.
Review please.
Pretty please?
Pretty please with Faramir on top?
(Oooh, nice image…..)