A/N: Thanks for the reviews :-) I hope that you guys enjoy this chapter:D
That evening, as Eowyn was getting ready for the important dinner, she talked to her maid, Norah about the days events.
"I truly wished at that moment that I would have turned into a bird and flown away; I cannot bear to be near him!" she exclaimed.
"Please do not speak such things my lady," said Norah as she brushed Eowyn's beautiful golden mane.
"I simply cannot help myself; I detest him, but it is selfish of me to spread my dark cloud over your day. Speaking of which, how was your day?"
Norah told herself that she would not tell lady Eowyn her true opinion of Boromir, so she decided to leave part of her day out.
"Well my lady, I spent most of my time getting acquainted with the rest of the servants, and I was also shown my other duties,"
"That does not sound so bad," Eowyn said. A part of her wished that she could switch places with Norah, for she was not bound to a lifetime of unhappiness.
"But I saw the strangest thing my lady; an elfin servant dwells here," she said.
"That is strange indeed," said Eowyn.
Norah had just finished braiding the front sections of Eowyn's hair; she now pulled it back and fastened it with a golden clasp.
"You are ready now my lady and you look beautiful," complimented Norah.
000
Later that evening the five of them were seated together at a decisively large table: Boromir and Eowyn sat together on one side, and Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth and his daughter Lorithiel were seated together on the other, whilst Denethor sat at the head of the table.
Eowyn did not pay much attention as they discussed the amount of soldiers that were needed in Osgiliath; she paid no attention to Boromir, her husband who was sitting right next to her. She couldn't wait for the dreaded meal to end so that she could retreat back to her chambers, but she composed herself the best way that she could, although her face was as cold as stone and she did not speak a single word.
000
Faramir and Elendur were greatly outnumbered, and they didn't stand a chance against what seemed to be at least one hundred and fifty men.
It all seemed to happen so fast to Faramir, it was so dark that he could not see their faces, but he saw the men draw their swords and before he knew it, they were charging towards them.
He fought them the best that he could-but there were so many; suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his side, and then all went black.
When Faramir awoke, the sun had not yet risen, he was bound by strong ropes around his wrists, he was a tent of some sort. When he tried to move he felt a terrible pain in his side-the same pain that he had felt the night before, but he did his best to ignore the pain for he had to try to find a way out. Just then, he heard voices outside of the tent, he tried to listen to see if he could understand what they were saying but he soon realized that it was not the common tongue which they were speaking, to him it sounded like they were speaking--elvish.
He only knew a few words of that language, for Mithrandir had once taught him a few words, and he had not forgotten them.
The tent flap lifted, and it seemed to Faramir that a tall man walked in, he had jet black hair and blue eyes, he walked over to Faramir and when he saw that he was awake, he called out something in elfish, and two more men came in. They grabbed him roughly and supported him as he struggled to stand, as he examined, he could now see their pointed ears, they were in fact-elves!
Two of the elves took a hold of his upper arms and almost dragged him out; once they were outside of the tent Faramir saw a large campfire that had been doused, they dragged him past this, and after a few more yards of walking, they stopped and dropped him to his knees. As Faramir raised his eyes, he saw two boots standing before him, and as he looked further up he found himself staring into the face of a male elf. His hair was raven black and his brown eyes gazed intently at Faramir.
"Ah, I see that you have awakened," he said coldly.
"Who are you and what do you want with us?" Faramir asked. He was concerned for his men for he did not know if any of them had been badly wounded.
The elf laughed, "You are not to inquire of me; you are the captive not I."
"Do you not know who you are speaking to?" Faramir asked, for although he may have been a captive, he had not forgotten who he was.
"Yes, I do know who I speak to-a spying Ranger," he said.
At that moment, a beautiful elfin woman approached them, her hair was also raven, just like the elf that was standing before him, and she slightly resembled him.
"Faelivrin says that the prisoners are unwilling to talk; he sent me to ask for your orders," she said.
"I shall see to it myself," he said, turning to the three elves that stood next to Faramir. "Fingolfin, Aaralyn; stay and guard the prisoner. Enderlin, come with me."
000
Medwyn sat propped against a tree, his older brother Marwyn sat propped against a tree to his left. They could not escape-it would be useless to try for there were elfin guards watching their every move.
They had both been beaten badly when the elves ambushed their camp; but Medwyn had been beaten more severely than Marwyn.
He knew that he had a sizeable cut on his left shoulder and on top of that he had bruises, scratches, and minor cuts all over his body. The wound on his shoulder had been roughly bandaged with some rags, and he had been given a bad tasting medical potion which made him want to vomit.
And because they had refused to provide these cruel elves with the information that they desired, they had been beaten again. Marwyn had been beaten to the point of unconsciousness; he had only just been awake now for half of an hour.
While Medwyn dwelt on these thoughts, a tall raven-haired elf emerged from the trees that Medwyn and Marwyn were facing, with him was a blond elf that was about the same height as the raven haired elf.
Medwyn closed his eyes for he in truth was a little frightened of what was going to happen next.
The raven-haired elf walked over to Marwyn, the blond elf stood close by.
"So Ranger, you intent upon keeping your mouth shut and not answering our questions? You are a foolish man for you know not whom you speak to," and after saying those words he kicked Marwyn in the face.
The red-haired Ranger cried out in pain as the merciless elf kicked him. If it had been his goal to cause Medwyn to bleed, he surely achieved it: blood spilled from his nose, and some began to seep out of his mouth.
"You cruel creature, you shall pay for this!" Medwyn cried, letting his anger get the best of him; to him this elfin man seemed as though his heart was made of stone.
The elfin man turned to face him, "You should be more cautious with your words, for with the signal of a finger I could have you killed."
000
An hour had gone by and at last the sun was beginning to shed some of her light. Faramir had been closely guarded by the two elves; the elfin woman had left not long after the one who seemed to be the leader had departed.
Faramir had been given a little water and a little more than a morsel of hard bread, and he guessed that that was to be his break of fast; he wished to know how his men were doing, he hoped that they were doing better than him for he cared more about their safety then his own. After all, he was their captain.
He hoped that at least a few of his men could escape, for he knew that there was a large chance that some of them would die in captivity.
"Are they dead?" he asked himself, worry and anxiety was beginning to set in; not for himself, but for his fellow Rangers.
He could not shake that question from his mind for he knew that they could very well be—dead.