Yay! Its chapter two! I hope you enjoyed the first one. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR REVIEWS!

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Tolkien…blahhblahh…not mine…blahhblahh…no profit being made…blahhblahh.

Warnings: None in this chapter. Just some random and mindless fluff, if you need a warning for that type stuff. Actually I must pride myself on my improving ability to write fluff. I have gotten a lot better at it XD. And Boromir and Eomer get a little pissy at each other.

Notes: None really. Oh and Windrod is the fathering stallion to Windfola, the horse that bore Eowyn into battle on the Pelennor Fields. Just thought I would include that. The book never put a sire to Windfola so I just made one up XD. I must thank my friend Alice and my Aunt Jeanette for all their horse lingo. Thank you.

Chapter Two: Pleasant Introductions

Enjoy!

VIVIIXIIVX

For nearly another quarter of an hour, breakfast continued in silence. Faramir tried, although in vain, to quell the noise of his eating feeling as though it was as loud as the neigh of a dying horse. Boromir also held a look of unease on his rugged features. Both brothers could not wait until they were free of this duty set on them by their father. Faramir had a gut feeling that the treaty would not go forward as the Steward hoped; Théoden, Theodred, and Eomer all held looks of contempt, the latter especially, when they had first heard of Denethor's idea. The kingdom seemed very unwilling to part with its White Lady, but Faramir did not much blame them. Were the situations reversed Denethor would share the same sentiment, unless the power promised was great enough to crush even Dark Lord. Faramir very much doubted that the allegiance, if formed, would produce any real fruit. But the second son did not deny that Eowyn was indeed beautiful and lovely to look at. She seemed very foreign in his eyes, used to the dark blacks and browns from his native country, and did not carry herself in the same manor as the noblewomen of Gondor. Women of the Citadel were expected to be quiet and insignificant and hold themselves in reserve, whereas Eowyn held herself upward and proud and her eyes were bright with defiance. She was not delicate and meek as what women were required to be in Gondor, but hardened and brave; as Faramir had found out by the way she stood up to Théoden-King and held her eyes up even when her head was cast downward. He found her strangely provocative in the sense that she was so different than anything Faramir had ever seen.

Eowyn stood up, bowed her head, and left after a few more minuets of silence. Her movements were fluid and graceful, yet sad and sorrowful. He pitied her and the fate that might come to be. Eomer soon followed his sister, but made a quick but clearly cold gaze at Boromir and Faramir. Faramir's thoughts drifted to the conversation that had taken place just half an hour before Eomer had left in search of the Lady Eowyn.

(Flashback)…

Faramir and Boromir had just risen for a night of poor sleep. The storm had continued to pound the well-thatched roof all though the eve and thunder refused to relent its loud boom in the sky. Twice they had both made attempts to salvage what little hours of sleep that was left, but both times it was in vain. With a sigh, both brothers began to pull on their clothes. There was no real need to dress formally or in armor, so Faramir chose a pair of leather pants and a long velvet shirt with finely stitched silver embroidery. Around his shoulders Faramir took a simple dark cloak, so as to blend with everything else he wore, and caped it around his smaller form. He pulled on a pair of supple stag leather boots and sighed. It was going to be a long day; he knew that just from the gloomy overcast sky that loomed just out the window. A knock at the door brought Faramir out of his trance. "Come in," he said, thinking it was Beregond or one of the other tower guards.

When the door swung open violently, Faramir was about to say something but when he saw the towering form of Eomer in the door frame he kept his tongue. Already he wore thick armor and a deep scowl. "King Théoden requests your presence at breakfast," Eomer said simply.

"Thank you, Eomer son of Eomund," Boromir replied before Faramir got a chance to open his mouth. "What news do you know of your King's decision?" Boromir inquired boldly with an equally cold look.

"Théoden-King will tell you of his choice when he deems it necessary. Although I must admit, please forgive the blunt nature of my tongue, but I find you quite bold to come to our kingdom and place this request on my sister's shoulders," Eomer replied. Faramir knew that he must have been waiting all night to say those words directly to their faces. He did not know that the pair, Eowyn and Eomer were members of kin, but he mentally hit himself for not realizing it sooner. They both shared the same surname and were very similar in appearance.

"I can assure you that the choice is not ours, but that of our father. We, like you, are bound by our duty," Boromir said with an equally dark shadow on his brow.

"Then the quest of your father is in vain, for it is as true the previous eve as it stands now, she is not of age," Eomer shot back with venom in his voice.

"You dare to deem the noble ruler of Gondor foolish?" Boromir spat with anger, getting from his seat and locking eyes with Eomer.

"I do not call the Lord Denethor a fool, but this ideal of his a foolish move," Eomer said, not backing down, knowing full and well that he held the advantage over the foreign brothers. "Even if it were to happen, the treaty would not last any right amount of time. What men in Gondor desire for a woman is the exact opposite from how Eowyn has been brought to live," Eomer continued, trying to rip, tear and destroy any thoughts of his sister from Boromir and Faramir's minds. "I have visited your White City trice in my youth. You like your women subtle and silent, with eyes downcast in fear. Eowyn is not of that nature, nor will she bend her will to your ideals," Eomer finished.

"And I will repeat myself: we have no care for this, but it is our father's wish and will that this take place," Faramir said for the first time.

"Little brother, this is not your battle," Boromir said. Faramir chose not to reply, knowing it to be the wise decision. It then became clear that neither Boromir of Gondor nor Eomer of Rohan would listen to the medium of reason. A wave of pity came over Faramir at Eowyn of Rohan's fate. She was forced between two battle fronts, one of which she believed in, and the other which she would be forced to embrace. The second born son of the Steward said nothing and continued to watch the battle unfold between his brother and Eomer. "What Gondor requires of a woman is for her to know her place and be grateful she even has it…unlike this pathetic little country where a woman all a woman need be is a horse wrangler to survive," Boromir lashed out. Faramir knew instantly that his brother had gone too far, his pride had gotten the better of his mind.

Before anyone knew it, Eomer had drawn out a short sword and held it to Boromir's throat. A look of pure and utter contempt and anger pierced Eomer's grey eyes which had irrupted in a storm. "May this serve as a warning: Your right is not to impugn my honor, my sister's honor, or the honor of the Mark. Should your tongue fly again with foolish words and unintelligent sentiments I shall not hesitate to separate your foolhardy visage from your shoulders," Eomer growled. Not really knowing he had, but Faramir had gotten to his feet from the shock of the situation. At the sound of footsteps, Eomer quickly sheathed his steel and turned to the door. Theodred stood in the frame with a sullen look on his face.

"Please pardon my intrusion," Theodred said to Boromir and Faramir but then turned to Eomer. "Cousin, it looks as if Eowyn has disappeared again," Theodred said. "Her stallion is gone and no one has seen hide nor hair of her or Windrod," a small sly of a smile was seen playing upon Eomer's lips, but he hid it as soon as it came away. "What shall I tell my father?"

"I'll be out fetching her presently," Eomer said, leaving the room and heading out towards the stables. Theodred did not move but sent the two brothers a gentle smile.

"Please do not let his foul mood rotten your stay here. Eomer is only looking out for his sister's sake. He is proud and it cannot be contained. You would have to be a fool to insult it. Please excuse his behavior," Theodred said.

"Why is he so protective of her and himself? Dose he have any other object or event to hold his attention?" Faramir inquired.

"He dose it for Eowyn. They lost their mother when both were naught but children…however" Theodred paused, giving his speech a slightly dramatic effect, "you would do wise not to insult our Shieldmaiden. She may look fair, but her nature is proud just like her brother. Her demeanor may seem cold, but she feels as do we all. When insulted, you will not have only the Third Marshal to contend with…her cold iron has taken out even the mightiest of Rohirim in the sword ring, including mine and Eomer's," Theodred warned in dramatic humor. With a smile he said, "Come, I'll show you to the dining hall"

(End Flashback) A/N: Told you Boromir would get pissy at Eomer, and vice versa.

Faramir exited the Golden Hall, tired of the silence that loomed heavily. Outside the dreary sky had cleared up and the sun shone through the clouds and upon Edoras. A few grey clouds remained, but none presented any threat of rain. In the sky a great bird glided overhead. He relished the soft wind that began to blow and his black locks were sprawled around his face. Faramir sighed; he had not meant to start all this trouble with the kingdom of Rohan. It was his father's vain ambition in hopes of more power. Faramir shuddered at the thought of his father. Denethor had pulled Faramir out of Ithilien right in the midst of trouble in the order of Rangers to send him on a mission of political power and greed. A frown came upon Faramir's face. Although Denethor was indeed his father, Faramir knew that he was not a fit ruler or King. It would not have surprised him if Denethor had falsely written the agreement just to trick Rohan into a poorer position of power.

He glanced at the flag of Rohan swaying in the wind. It was such a more complex design than the crest of Gondor, which was simply a white tree with seven stars encircling it. The white body of the warhorse was outlined in gold which was surrounded by a sea of evergreen. Again his attention was taken from his thoughts and Faramir concentrated on the sturdy form of Eomer coming up the stone steps into the hall of Meduseld. Instead of his usual dark glances, Eomer acted as if Faramir was nothing but an illusionary figure jesting in the wind. "My Lord, Eomer, Third Marshal of the Mark," Faramir began with the utmost respect in his voice.

Eomer stopped in his tracks and acknowledge Faramir with an un-deciphered expression. The solider said nothing in response but instead nodded his mighty mane of golden curls.

"I wish to apologize for my brother," Faramir said simply. He knew that placing more weight on the subject would only cause Eomer to become once again enraged. Faramir bowed his head and smiled warmly in reason at Eomer. Eomer continued to say nothing but lowered his head in acceptance. "If I may, can I place a request?" Faramir said.

"Name it," Eomer replied bluntly. Faramir was not so hard spoken as Boromir, or as arrogant. Eomer liked him better, and did his best not to mix his rage at the first born son with that of the second born. But he was not succeeding as hard as he was trying.

"Will you show me to the steed that you and your sister found on the plains this morn?" Faramir asked. Beregond had inquired about its well being, but had not received an answer from the servants he questioned.

"This way," Eomer said simply. Turning his heel, Eomer pointed Faramir in the direction of the stables. Faramir thanked Eomer and ventured inside. The interior of the stables were much superior to those of Gondor. The Rohirim treated their horses better than their people! Or at least, that is how it looked in Faramir's eyes. The wood that constructed the stable was hardened pine that had clearly tended well over the years. Not a speck of rot could be seen. Instead of the usual smell of sweat and fescues from the stalls, the fragrant smell of sweet hey lingered in the air. On the wall across from each steed was its saddle, bridle, riding blanket and other trinkets for riding. In the back, the brown snout of the missing mount was seen sticking out. Faramir went to the back and gently stroked his head. His fore hoof was slinged closely against his body, yet his balance remained firm. While silently thanking the force that had spared the horse's life a Rider entered the stables. He was tall with grizzled auburn hair and fuzzy whiskers dotted his face and chin. Across his right eye was a large battle scar that had been scraped across his weathered face. The eye was white and glazed in comparison to the other which was green and inviting. "Welcome," the stranger said. "I trust you find your stay at Edoras enjoyable?"

"Yes, I give you and your king much thanks for the hospitality you have bestowed upon Gondor," Faramir thanked.

"There is no need for such big words and fancy talk among our ranks. Though Rohirim we be by title, ordinary men we are by nature," the man laughed while unlocking the hatch of a dark brown mare with a star upon her snout. "I am Hamal. This is my trusty mount Firefoot," he said pointing to the brilliant horse that shook her wild black mane as if knowing she was being addressed. "She is as fast and hardy as any stallion that ever there was," Hamal said with glowing pride. "A lucky animal if ever there was one," Hamal pointed to the horse in Faramir's arms. "That beast braved that storm and prevailed where most would have fallen. As fine as any mount of Rohan," Hamal praised. Faramir laughed. Beregond would be pleased to hear of the compliments bestowed upon his horse. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a grey-blue stallion. The creature was magnificent looking. Hamal took notice of Faramir's interest, "Oh you would not be wanting to mucking with that fellow," Hamal laughed. "Windrod is his name, and true to it, you will find no faster a gelding in all of Rohan. However you will never find such an untamable gelding either. The Lady Eowyn's he is. And he refuses to bear any other rider save for her. He even bucked Eomer and Theodred to the ground for attempting to ride him," Hamal said.

"She must be quite skilled to tame a horse like that," Faramir said. He may have seen Eowyn at glances, but he had not the chance to speak with her and knew little other than what he had been told, and warned, by others.

"I disarray our Prince has already warned you, but you will find no better rider among our ranks. She can out race many of the Rohirim on a whim. Only Lord Eomer and Prince Theodred are superior to her skill. And I daresay, they are not her superior but equal. And in any case, she did not tame him," Hamal pointed to Windrod, whose ears had gone up, "It is my reckoning that Windrod tamed her. It is a special bond between horse and rider, or that is the foolish beliefs of the Rohirim," Hamal finished. Like an expert, he plunked the saddle onto Firefoot's back and bridled her head. "Now Lord Faramir, please excuse me. Already the wolves will have my hide for being late". Hamal sharply kicked his heels into Firefoot, who in turn, reared her mighty body and dashed out of the stables leaving Faramir alone with his thoughts.

After a few, but seemingly long minutes, Faramir turned to leave. As he began walking towards the exit of the stables another figure came in. Faramir stopped, and moved to the side allowing the person coming in the right of way. The footsteps became much softer as they approached and Faramir was surprised to find Eowyn brushing past his side. She glanced at him quickly but adverted her eyes ahead and then to Windrod. A strange sort of warmth seemed to radiate from her. Instead of the cold and sorrowful woman he had seen in the halls of Meduseld, she was fair and radiant when in the barn; an oxymoron of sorts considering her surrounding. "My Lady," Faramir began. She looked up and regarded his presence with a blank expression. Very much like her brother, Faramir thought. "I must thank you for the kind deed you bestowed upon us this morning," Faramir said, nodding his head in the direction of the horse near the back. "Beregond will be most pleased now that he will no longer be doubling up with my brother," Faramir joked with a smile. He saw a flicker of a smile play upon Eowyn's pale features. It gave him a strange sense of satisfaction that he caused the cold lady of Rohan to smile at his poor sense of humor.

"You, as well as your company, are welcome. But it was not so much a deed for you, but for your horse. He is a fine beast. I just have trouble accepting you left him out in the rain to fend for himself," Eowyn said, but with a slight warmth. She continued stroking Windrod and kept her head facing forward.

"If there is any way that I can repay your kindness name it," Faramir said. He didn't know why, but he felt obligated to repay her kindness. Faramir supposed that it was to be attributed to his training and life as a Ranger in Ithilien.

Eowyn felt a slight pang of unease in his presence but it fell away soon at his kind words. His demeanor was soft-spoken unlike that of his loud brother. Eomer had told her of their fight and of his very obvious disgust towards him. However, he said very little of the second son. Eowyn was slightly confused because she had always been taught to believe that Gondor was a horrid nation that showed no mercy and their steward, the iron handed Denethor, and had abandoned Gondor after sending calls for aid. Either Faramir was putting on a very good charade, or he was a living contradiction to his nation.

Théoden had banned Eowyn from riding out of city walls alone shortly after her return to the Golden Hall. Once Boromir and Faramir were considered to be safely out of earshot, the king of Rohan had burst into a long speech as to why she was not to leave the city walls alone ever again without the escort of either himself, Eomer, Theodred or at least six Rohirim at all present times. Eowyn scowled at the memory of his speech but said nothing. That was the thanks she got for saving the Gondorian horse? She kept her face neutral when she left the Hall. Yet when she was away from prying eyes, Eowyn had kicked the nearest object she could find, which happened to be the helmet of one of the Gondorians, and made a face of disgust. She had immediately gone down to the stables and was in the state of mind to ride out again, just to spite Théoden's orders. Her time alone to ride and her horse were the only true friends she had, save for her brother, but Eomer was always away at war or foreign treaties. After watching Hamal ride out freely from the gates, it did nothing more but encourage her rebellion. It had been many years since she had shown this much emotion, and Eowyn did not like it. She knew that once she was out alone in the tall grasslands she would feel once again at peace. However her intentions were shot down when she saw Faramir in the stables. Surely if she rode out, Faramir would see and inform either her uncle or brother, or then in turn, would tell Théoden. She had not expected such kind words from Faramir and was taken aback by his warm face. An idea then struck her: "Please excuse me for being so bold but," she began.

"Yes?" Faramir said.

"Would you ride out with me?" Eowyn thanked the dark silhouette that the stable provided for she could feel the slight burn upon her checks as blood rushed to them. She knew how foolish and immature she sounded to the Gondor Prince, yet it was her only way to get in another ride. By going she would not be alone.

Faramir was slightly aback by her request. He had suspected her to say something along the lines of 'do not let this treaty be enacted' or something complex and nearly impossible in nature. She seemed to understand that there was nothing either himself, nor Boromir, could do against their father's wishes. That was a first for Faramir when it came to his experience with women. In Gondor, the women would either throw themselves at Faramir in service, or ask something utterly ridiculous or complex for their minds to comprehend. He had always dismissed them kindly and didn't blame them. It was all just a product of their upbringing and he could do nothing to change that. However Eowyn seemed very in tune with the way that royalty worked. He considered for a moment all the teasing he would endure from Boromir should he be caught 'Then I won't allow myself to be caught by prying eyes,' Faramir thought. "Yes My Lady. If that is all you ask, I will ride," Faramir smiled.

Eowyn didn't let her true relief show through her cold face, but she merely bowed her head in thanks. She watched Faramir go to the back of the stables and ready the blood red bay she had admired earlier. "That is a fine horse you have," Eowyn commented while she unlocked the hitch to Windrod's door and placed the saddle blanket across his back.

"Thank you My Lady," Faramir said. In truth, it was his brother's horse, but Boromir need not know that he would be borrowing him. His real mount was the chestnut stallion that had a sock on his left rear hoof. Boromir had always gotten the finer steeds and Faramir could not cover his envy. Their father would be furious if he knew the numerous times Faramir had borrowed Boromir's horses. Faramir had named this bay in particular Galad. Boromir never named his animals, but allowed Faramir to do so. He often named them after the old kings and Elves of old that Mithrandir had taught to him. Galad came from the mighty Gil-Galad. "Your steed is a fine one also. He is as fine as you would ever see in Gondor," Faramir complemented.

"I thank you My Lord," Eowyn said. She again was surprised at his kindness.

Within a few minutes, both horses were saddled and on their way out the gates of the Golden Hall of Meduseld. Eowyn rode ahead of Faramir, while he lingered behind and studied her riding. It was clear to the eye that she had had a great deal of experience and indeed, lived up to Hamal's word. Her form was tall and proud while on the back of Windrod. Eowyn's long golden hair flew back behind her in the wind that they were riding against. Faramir reckoned that she had the ability to outride even the top soldiers of Gondor and rangers of Ithilien. He would have to test that theory one day. By his best guess, Faramir figured that Théoden would at least ride to Edoras and hear his father's proposal, but not deem circumstances dire enough. He couldn't wait until this game was over and he could return to the wilderness of Ithilien and be among his friends who respected him for his skills and nature, not for his position and title. Faramir couldn't wait to see Mithrandir again, despite Denethor's cruel accusations about the wizard. Even Boromir bore a slight distrust of Mithrandir, but Faramir guessed that was just because of his uncanny nature that was similar to Lord Denethor.

The citizens of Edoras looked on in confusion as the maiden of Rohan and prince of Gondor rode out like they had been friends. Even the peasants threw Faramir looks of disgust. He couldn't help but wonder what they had been taught their entire lives to loath those of Gondor that extent. As they crossed the official gates to Edoras, the slightly crouched and dark figure of Grima Wormtongue was seen. He too, threw Faramir a look of disgust and bitterness. But behind his slimy looking eyes, Faramir caught a quick glance of something that was unknown to him. And then it went as quickly as it came.

After some minutes Eowyn slowed her horse to allow Faramir to catch up. When they met face to face Eowyn said, "Do you see that river yonder?" she questioned. Faramir squinted his eyes and indeed, the light blue shimmer of a river could be seen at a distance. It was the river Snowbourne, Faramir had traveled it once before. Faramir nodded and Eowyn continued, "I have been told by one of your soldiers that you possess skills worth of mark as a rider. Would you agree to a race to see who indeed is the better, the steeds of Rohan or Gondor's bays?" Eowyn mocked him slightly but in a respectful manor, so as not to make situations even worse.

Faramir smirked. If it was a race that this proud maiden wished for, than it would be precisely a race she would receive. He knew that his skills as a Rider surpassed his brother, although he knew it wise to silence his tongue to the matter. He looked over at Eowyn who wore a smile on her fair face. Pride was plastered in her blue eyes, which seemed at least three hues lighter in the sun, or even the fact that she was on a horse. "I humbly accept your challenge," Faramir responded in as polite a manor he could muster. "And what should be the winner's prize?" Faramir said.

Eowyn thought for a second. She hadn't really intended there to be a prize. Eomer had always brought back tales of the Riders in Gondor and their skills, but she had always doubted him. None in all of Middle-Earth could ever match the cavalry of the Rohirim…her people and, in a way, herself. And now at her doorstep was someone who would be willing to test her theory. Eowyn figured that since she could not ride alone, that it would be best to make his presence useful. However she could not deny that he was handsome, even if he wasn't the golden and flame haired warrior of the Rohirim in tales she had grown up with. His hair was dark and ebony colored, a rarity that she had seen only once before as a child, and eyes of a warm grey that reminded Eowyn of her brother. He seemed very noble and honorable atop the blood red bay. She searched her mind for an answer to his question and then it hit her, "The prize shall not be in material, but simply an added ego to the winner. The race starts at the river and ends back at the gates of my city"

Faramir laughed. She was indeed a proud woman. He would indeed hate to crush her honor if he proved the victor. The pair rode their horses to the river and allowed them to drink the sweet water that ran southward. As a preparation, both competitors whispered in their native tongue to their animals. Windrod neighed proudly, as if understanding the situation. Galad did nothing, like he knew that wearing one's heart on their shoulder was an act of foolishness. The pair nodded in understanding to each other and Eowyn said, "Be on your mark," she paused for several moments of tense dramatic silence, "Forth!" she exclaimed and kicked her heels sharply into Windrod who in turn reared slightly and took off, being true to his name.

Faramir had anticipated the moment when the race would begin and charged at the same moment. The wind blew his dark hair and pelted his skin, but he was far too used to that to care. Eowyn was in front of him, though not by much. Again her style of riding had changed; instead of holding her shoulders up tall and proud, they were crouched over to the level of Windrod's head to allow for faster movement against the wind. Faramir did the same thing with Galad. Again he sharply kicked inward and Galad increased his speed. Within a few moments, Faramir found himself neck in neck with Eowyn. She looked at him; slight shock was in her face. She had obviously not expected him to catch up so quickly or to maintain her pace. The shock was soon replaced with determination as she looked forward again and said something in her native tongue. Faramir was not fluent in the language of the Rohirim and had trouble deciphering complex sentences.

The race continued at the same pace for the next few minutes. Both Eowyn and Faramir had determination sealed upon their visages, Windrod and Galad exchanged arrogant looks daring the other to advance. Slowly, Faramir managed to pull ahead and a sense of satisfaction raced through his blood. However, as Faramir would learn the hard way, Eowyn was not one to easily give up. She increased the pace of Windrod and swerved in front of Galad who in turn had to slow so as they would not collide. It was an ingenious move, but Faramir was surprised. It was quite clear that Eowyn was no fool and knew that if she did not do something, her pace would lag and she would fall behind. Messing with Galad's bearings would be the easiest path to victory. With a fresh wave of determination Faramir quickened his pace and again was Eowyn's equal…all the while the large wooden gates of Edoras drew closer.

- - - - - -

At the gates Eomer sat down and pondered his uncle's decision. He knew not what to make of it. It did not help his confusion when he saw Eowyn ride out with the second son of Denethor. Did she not realize that her future was hanging in the balance? Eomer scowled. Theodred was at his side and tried to give some comfort to his worried cousin. "Fret not, Eomer. Eowyn knows what she is doing. She seemed somewhat sullen after my father's punishment. My suspicion is that she is merely using his presence to her advantage," Theodred said with his brown eyes with mischief. Eomer laughed. That would not be out of his sister's character to do such a bold thing. However she was clever enough to disguise her true meanings. "And it looks as if he is giving her a challenge…one of the few men who can," Theodred finished.

Confused by his cousin's words, Eomer looked up to see his sister and Faramir dashing across the plains in a race. It was obvious to the eye that he was giving her a challenge for she had used her trademark swerve around him. It was a technique she used when she knew she would lose. A clever move by Eomer's standards. More than once had Eomer used her move during battle. He laughed as Faramir's pace slowed and Eowyn drew ahead. This race was hers, as they usual were. The proud Third Marshal did not really know what to make of Faramir. It became clear to him that his brother, Boromir, was roughly wrought with a tongue and ego of steel. He did not wish to see his sister with such a man. But Faramir was very different; he was much softer spoken and seemed to always think before he put his tongue to use.

Closer and closer they rode and began to slow when they reached the gates. Eomer guessed that was their finishing point, there would be no other reason for them to slow down and racing within the walls of Edoras would mean murder, whether it was yourself or an innocent bystander who got in the way of the horse's hooves. Eomer stood up to greet his sister in her victory. She had clearly reached the gates first, even though Faramir was naught but a few seconds inferior. But a few seconds was all it took. Eomer cheered Eowyn in her victory. A light of surprise was on Eowyn's face as she realized that both her brother and Theodred were there. "Well done sister! Once again your title has been kept and your reputation increased," Eomer laughed.

Eowyn smiled in victory in response. "But my opponent was worthy," she said to Faramir as a gesture of respect. Theodred laughed.

"Aye, very worthy," Theodred said. Truthfully the prince of Rohan did not feel that Faramir would even have made it after his cousin swerved in front of him. Her technique swayed even the best of the Rohirim.

Faramir said nothing, and bowed his head in defeat and prayed to Elbereth that Boromir had not witnessed their race. There was no doubt that his brother would lay it on thick over the fact that Faramir had lost to a woman. But she indeed was skillful and lived up to Hamal's description of reputation. He patted Galad who was sweating from the lengthy race. Eomer and Theodred were again talking among themselves and Eowyn had already ridden inside Edoras. Faramir followed after her, intending to reward Galad after his brilliant performance. Just as he was about to pass through the gates, Faramir's sharp ears caught a bit of Eomer and Theodred's conversation. "It looks like even the brash princes of Gondor had their uses to her". Faramir nearly fell of his horse. Why that woman! She had used him. Faramir looked the proud woman in front of him. Eowyn of Rohan indeed was a clever woman and Faramir finally realized what a strong character she was.

VXIXVXIXV

END CHAPTER 2! Well I think it got it out rather quickly, seeing as how I am intending to stick with longer chapters. I hate it how a chapter is so short that there is barely two paragraphs. Sorry that this took a bit longer to get out. But I hope I made up for it.

Please read and review. It makes me get out the next chapter much faster (hint hint)

ja ne

Narya

I have a quick question…what the bloody hell is a Mary-sue? Although I am not new to fanfiction, I have never seen the phrase before until I read the Lord of the Rings fanfiction here.