A/N: Sorry for the late update, but thanks for the reviews! I espicially hope that Lothiriel enjoys this chapter.

Thanks guys!

000

When the still cut and bruised Faramir awakened from his very brief and uneasy sleep he could hear the sound of marching soldiers.

"Haradrim," he said out loud; it had been obvious that they were going to come soon, for the elves had been watching and waiting for them.

He slowly rose to his feet and peered out of the tent. Some of the elves were taking down some of the tents; a few others were stamping out the fires.

Faramir looked up at the sky: it was a black and starless night; he shrunk back inside the tent for he did not wish to have an encounter with any Haradrim.

He had only been back inside of his tent for a few moments when the flap lifted and in walked Galen.

"I see that the reinforcements from Harad have finally come," remarked Faramir.

"Yes my lord-we are to set out immediately, so you must dress in your Elven attire now or Selwyn might punish you."

Faramir gave a slight nod to indicate that he would rather dress as an elf than be punished by one; and so Galen slipped out of the tent once again, giving Faramir his privacy.

000

Boromir sat alone in his quarters: he was in a crossover between angry, confused, and worried. Norah had just told him the thing that he had least expected: Eowyn had run away. Still, to him it seemed as though he was dreaming-in other words unreal; and so he had to constantly remind himself that it was real and that he could do nothing else but find a way to bring her back as soon and safely as possible.

"She could be leagues away by now!" he groaned to himself; just when he had thought that there was a chance that they could work thing out and be like a normal husband and wife-and be happy, then she had run away to only God knows where.

He tried to think of what he had done wrong to make her want to run away; he could understand that she would feel like running away when they had just gotten married, but now he thought that they were starting to work things out. Frankly at that point in time-he didn't understand; he wished that she would have talked to him about how she was feeling-if not him then somebody else who might have been able to help her.

But now it was too late-Boromir couldn't even dream of running away from his duty; he knew that it was wrong that their futures had been decided for them without them even being allowed so much as a say in the matter, but to him what Eowyn had done was something very foolish and reckless. He was determined to bring he back to Gondor-even if he had to set out and find her himself.

000

The trio had not rested, for they were desperately trying to leave Gondor before word got out the Eowyn and Arial had escaped; it seemed like an easy task to Strider, for he knew secret ways of all sorts, so when he told Eowyn that they were to pass through Rohan in order to reach Mirkwood, she did not doubt that they would make it through safely and undetected-Arial had been rather quiet, yet he was anxious for his brothers life was on the line and he knew that he had to reach him.

They had taken a rest just outside of Gondor; Strider had found a safe cave for them to stay in, for he said that he could tell by the change of the winds that a storm was fast approaching.

Arial rested, but he did not sleep-how could he? He was, in truth half afraid of what he might have dreamt, for the last thing he wanted was his brother dead.

Eowyn did not sleep either; instead, she joined Strider who was sitting at the entrance of the cave.

"You should be resting; we have a long journey ahead of us," he said softly.

"Then you should be sleeping too then," Eowyn remarked.

"Then who will watch out for danger?" Strider asked her. "Please, my lady, lie down for you do not know when you may get the chance to rest again."

"Then that is a chance that I must take-how can I thank you for agreeing to do this for us?" Eowyn asked, out of the blue.

"I do not wish to be repaid or rewarded my lady," he said, still staring out into the wild.

"Are you always wandering in the wild?" Eowyn asked, for it seemed to her that he knew every shortcut and every hidden path or cave that had ever existed.

"Most of the time," he answered; his voice seemed a little wistful, for now his mind was journeying back to Rivendell-the Elven land that he had grown to love as though it were his by right of birth-but in truth, he was not; he belonged to a different country-the one which he had just journeyed out of.

Was he to return again?

Only he would know that for certain.

Eowyn seemed to notice the wistfulness in his eyes, and she was about to say something, but stopped herself and closed her mouth.

They had been sitting in silence for a little while. Both were staring out into the wild, yet their hearts and minds were in different places:

Eowyn was thinking about their daring escape and was hoping that they would not get caught; her mind also drifted to Rohan, her native land which they were to pass through when the storm ceased-oh how she missed Rohan, its beautiful green plains, Meduseld, also known as the golden hall, being able to ride out freely whether it was with her brother and cousin or whether she just wanted to ride alone with her beautiful faithful horse Windfola.

Now, speaking of which, the horses were beginning to act wildly: they had been put safely in the back of the cave, so that the storm would not rile them up half as bad, but obviously that was not working.

Strider knew this, and so he stood up, "I'll go and calm the horses down my lady; you may stay here and keep watch if you wish."

Eowyn watched him walk away; he had only been gone a few moments when she did not hear the whining of the horses anymore; she got up and walked over to where the horse were, and she found Strider speaking in a beautiful tongue: Elvish. She had heard Prince Imrahil's Lothiriel speak in this beautiful language to one of her servants, and so she had approached her about it.

Lothiriel was a very soft-spoken graceful young woman; if one didn't know better they would assume that she was a pure Elven woman.

Eowyn had known about the elvish language, yet she didn't know it, and so Lothiriel had briefly taught her a few words before returning to Dol Amroth; it was one of Eowyn's regrets that she and lady Lothiriel were unable to spend time together.

"Where did you learn the language of the elves?" Eowyn asked, walking up beside Strider.

"Rivendell," he replied, "I did not know that you understood the language."

"I do not know many words-I was taught only a few," Eowyn said.

"I am sure that one day you will be able to learn it in its entirety as I have."

Eowyn smiled lightly; there was so much to Strider, and the more she learned about him, the more she wanted to know. In other words, she found Strider very intriguing.

000

Earlier that day, Denethor had dismissed Simeon and had retreated to his chambers; he had refused to allow anyone inside. He did not even eat dinner, for his mind was being haunted, and tormented to the point where he could not bear it any longer; and the more that he wrestled with his own mind, the more tempting it seemed to look into the Palantir.

After all, that was the reason why he was feeling as he was at that time, but he forced his will against it and tried to sleep.

There were thousands of them-possibly millions of them; Orcs. They had broken down all of Gondor's defenses, and they had broken through the gate.

He stood from the highest level of the city and watched-he watched as Orcs mercilessly killed man, woman, child and beast. The dark shadow of Mordor had now engulfed Minas Tirith, and it seemed as though the darkness was choking the very life out of the city; men ran for their lives only to be hammered to death by a troll or some other foul creature.

Finally, he saw flames-flames engulfing the city, he could hear the cracking of the stone walls which had once been their safety and protection, but that day was passed; Minas Tirith was falling…

Denethor sat up in bed; sleep was a bad idea, but it was too late now. He had to look into the Palantir once more, even if it meant a battle with the very will of Sauron…

000

When Faramir had changed into the elvish clothes which had been provided to him, he heard footsteps outside of the tent; he could see a tall shadow outside; he hoped with all his heart that it was not Selwyn.

It wasn't that he was scared of the elf-for he wasn't; he just did not like him at all, and apparently he knew that he wasn't the only one who felt that way.

The tent flap lifted and in walked an elf with dark brunette hair, but the thing was, it was not a man but a woman!

Her face was expressionless and unreadable, but she obviously had reasons for entering the tent.

Faramir said nothing, but eyed her curiously; finally, after a moment's silence, the Elven-woman spoke.

"I see that you are ready. Selwyn commanded that you come with me."

"I care not what Selwyn says; I do not answer to him and I never will!" Was what Faramir was thinking, but due to the damage that his body had sustained, he figured that it would be better for him if he did not voice his thoughts.

So, instead, he rose to his feet; he was glad that he no longer had those tight ropes around his wrists, but he still bore the marks from them as did his fellow Rangers.

Just by looking into the Elven woman's green eyes one would be able to tell that she was very strong willed, as did Faramir.

Before she led him outside of the tent she quickly whispered something to him:

"To avoid getting into a worse situation, I suggest that you do as Selwyn says and act as though you are one of us-make sure that your ears are covered."

And so that was all that she said to Faramir before leading him out of the tent and to where the rest of Selwyn's followers were.

For some reason, they were all standing in a straight line, and Faramir spotted Galen which gave him some form of comfort.

He soon could see at the end of the line that a Haradrim man was walking through, and examining the elves. Selwyn was walking beside him, answering his questions and so forth.

He stopped at the fair Elven-lady, Morwen. He lifted her chin somewhat roughly and seemed to examine her features; anyone standing near could see that this did not please Selwyn one bit.

He walked a little further, examining other elves until he stopped at Galen; to him Galen did not seem to be Elven at all, for he looked like a Gondorian. So he examined Galen's face as he did with Morwen, and muttered something about how expensive one like that would be. And then he roughly grabbed Galen's hair, causing him to let out a yelp. But it also revealed his Elven ears-just what the Haradrim wanted to know.

Finally, after more examining he stopped at Faramir; Faramir held his breath for he knew that the man might examine to see if he had Elven ears; Selwyn seemed to notice this and he seemed somewhat nervous.

The Haradrim man eyed him intensely, while Selwyn swallowed hard.

"So, tell me," said the Haradrim to Faramir. "Are you also half-Elven?"