A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys! I love you all! Here's chappy nine, so enjoy!

As Eowyn stood on the seventh level of Minas Tirith and gazed wistfully upon the Pelennor fields, for she wished to ride across them-never to return.

While she dwelt on these thoughts, she heard the footsteps of someone approaching; she figured that it was Theodred or Eomer so she didn't bother to turn around.

Escape was so near-freedom was so near, soon she would ride across the Pelennor fields never to return.

"I presume that the Pelennor fields remind you of Rohan, my lady," said a soft voice.

Eowyn turned around and found herself staring into the eyes of her husband, "I had not expected to meet you here my lord," she said in a softer tone than usual.

"And I you," said Boromir, as he too gazed upon the Pelennor.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a little while; Eowyn was not sure whether to go or stay, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Boromir glancing at her from time to time.

"So, what is it that brings you here my lord?" she asked suddenly.

"For a few moments of peace and quiet-one cannot think clearly if ones head is unclear," he stated, which was of course an obvious fact.

"Then I shall leave you to clear your head my lord," said Eowyn, turning to leave.

"No, you may stay if you wish," he said, gently turning her around by her upper arm.

Eowyn froze at his touch, and only then did Boromir realize what he had done.

"I am sorry my lady, I-'' he cut himself off, when he saw that the expression on her face had softened-not a lot, but nonetheless it softened.

She did not understand why she did not carry the strong dislike for him as she usually did, she figured that it was because she was soon going to be free so she wouldn't be tied to this man for the rest of her life, "You need not apologize my lord," she said.

And so they stared out at the Pelennor together once again; Eowyn glanced over at Boromir and she saw that he looked troubled by something.

"Do you care to tell me what troubles you my lord?" she asked.

Boromir sighed and turned to face her; he did not know why she was not as cold towards him as usual, but in truth he did not mind the fact that she had warmed up to him, even if it was only a little.

"It is my sire-and my brother," Boromir said, it almost seemed as though he was just speaking his thoughts aloud rather than talking to Eowyn.

"What has happened to trouble you?"

"How can a man unconditionally love one son, but yet the other he will only love to a certain degree?" Boromir said.

Eowyn could hear the anger rising in his voice, but suddenly, he checked himself realizing that he had said too much already; for the private lives of the steward and his sons were usually not to be discussed to anyone, for most of what the people in the city knew of them was what Denethor wanted them to know, as far as the people knew, Denethor loved both of his son's unconditionally; and he made sure that nothing made them think otherwise.

"Forgive me my lady; I should not speak of such things to you."

"If you think, my lord that I would tell another soul what you have told me in confidence, then you must know that I am not that woman-the woman who spreads private things about her lord's life."

"I do not doubt that, my lady," he said looking out upon the fields once more; hoping that his brother was safe-hoping that not harm had come to him.

"I understand my lord, that you are bound to silence," Eowyn said, feeling somewhat sympathetic for him.

"You understand more than I thought you would," Boromir said, looking at Eowyn. He could not believe that it was the same woman who he began to think despised him; this same woman was understanding and soft-hearted, he did not know what had changed her mind about him, but change was good.

000

For a moment Faramir stared at the elf in shock; he did not know that there were elves that served Sauron.

How could it be?

"How came you into his service?" Faramir asked, composing himself.

The elf stood there a moment, as if reflecting on his life, "It was by my father that I came into Sauron's service."

Faramir was surprised that 'Selwyn' was opening up to him so easily; nonetheless he listened as the elf continued.

"My father was not like any other elf; he was wicked and brutal, and desired nothing more than to have power; he hated the men of the west, and he was bitter for he wished nothing more than to muster an army and annihilate you all!" as he said this, he struck the table with his fist, causing the table to shake.

Faramir, who was still trying to make sense of where Selwyn was going, listened intently.

"Therefore, he was exiled from his native Elven land of Rivendell-if he was to return he would be killed. And with him also went some of the other elves who were just as bitter as he was; he also passed through the woodland realm, taking several followers with him also. And then…and then he sought to take refuge in Mordor…" Selwyn's voice trailed off. And then he checked himself; he was not to be telling this Gondorian of his father's history, instead he should be interrogating him, for after all he was the prisoner.

"You have already heard much more than you needed to Gondorian," he said, returning to his arrogant, cold demeanor.

Faramir had not expected the sudden change in the elf's behavior; for a moment it seemed as though he had found a soft spot in the cold elf, and now it had disappeared without a trace.

"Now captain of the Rangers, tell me exactly who you are," sneered the elf.

"I am almost exactly what you said," replied Faramir, in a tone that showed that he was not intimidated by the elf.

"You do not choose what you want to tell me, for I can have you killed by uttering one single word; it would be wise of you to cooperate, for I would not hesitate to demonstrate on one of your Rangers what we are truly capable of."

Faramir paled; he would rather die than see harm brought to his men, for he did not feel it his duty to protect them-it was an instinct, and to have them die because of his own pride…he might as well just be a dead man.

"I would rather you kill me then bring harm to my men," Faramir said, standing up and looking the elf square in the eye.

Though he did not realize it at the time, he was acting as his brother would have done and if Boromir had seen the courage and nobility displayed by him just saying those few words, in spite of the situation he would have smiled proudly.

"Surely you must have great courage to make such a statement, for here we do not take such things lightly; and one of these days you may very well find yourself in the situation of which you have spoken."

"And I would face it just as I have said," said Faramir.

"You are a loyal one, are you not captain?" he asked, almost mockingly.

"Yes, I am loyal to Gondor," he answered. As he did so, his mind drifted back to Minas Tirith, and then to the place where he spent a good deal of his time: Henneth Annun. Over time he had grown attached and used to the place, as did his fellow Rangers. He missed his good friend Damrod a great deal also, he was such good friends with the Ranger that he did not tell him where he was and how many men Denethor had sent with him, for he knew that Damrod would have accompanied him, and it was bad enough to see fifteen of his men beaten, never mind seeing his childhood friend go through it; it would have been all but unbearable.

Selwyn seemed to notice Faramir's wistful gaze, and he smiled smugly; "You are homesick, are you not? Well you should know that we are still in your country."

"Do you think I am a fool? I know that we are still in Gondor, but when my father-'' Faramir cut himself off, it had been merely an instinct to threaten the elf of what would happen when Denethor found out that he was being held prisoner. But in truth, Denethor had set him in that predicament in the first place, and so if he did find out that he was being held prisoner, chances were that he would do nothing.

"Ah, your father; what power could he have that you would threaten me with his finding out of your predicament?"

Faramir was silent.

"You are unwilling to speak I see, but you will do so anyway for I order you to do so!" he said, once again slamming his hand on the map table which all but collapsed.

"I do not answer to you 'Shadow elf,' " Faramir said, with dignity and integrity in his voice.

"You shall soon learn to do as I say!" the elf stated in a loud voice. "I will grind you under my heel like the dust, Gondorian," he said, and walking up to Faramir and taking him off guard placed a well aimed blow in his stomach.

The shock of the punch caused Faramir to fall to the ground. Selwyn paced a hard kick to his side, and staring over him with a stare that would belittle anybody said:

"I do not need those under me to grind you, for I can do that myself; do not forget who is the captor and who is the captive; for I mean what I say, I will grind you under my heel for you are worthless and meaningless to me."

Faramir stared after him as he left the tent.

Faramir's eyebrows knitted in anger-he would not let this elf get a chance to grind him as though he were some form of cattle, it was his duty to find a way for he and his men to escape, even if they just escaped and he had to be left behind-his mind was now bent upon it, and once Faramir set his mind to something he always found a way.

000

Arial stood and looked out on the Pelennor; he had waited for lady Eowyn and lord Boromir to leave so that he could be alone-alone to think about home; home for Arial was Rivendell; but chances were that he would not return there, although it was on his mind almost constantly-ever since lady Finduilas died.

For when she was alive he had great time in Minas Tirith, but ever since her untimely death he had longed to return to his native land.

Sometimes even the thought of running away had come into his mind for elves can move about noiselessly if they do not wish to be discovered; more and more that thought had crossed his mind and he had tried to push it away but somehow found that he could not.

Why was it that he could not get it out of his head?

"No, no, I must be honorable and stay here even though I may be unhappy-it is my duty Minas Tirith is now my home."

Those were the words that he had to keep repeating to himself day in and day out, but more and more they seemed to lose their effect-he knew that soon something would give…

A/N 2: Hey guys I hope that ya'll enjoyed chappy nine-even if you didn't feel free to R&R to tell me what you think:)