A/N: Well, here's an update, and I hope that you all enjoy this chapter--even if you don't, feel free to review and tell me why. Anyway, enjoy! ; )

Uncertain Fates

He could see someone slumped on the ground, and as he got closer he realized that it was a man—a familiar redhead; Boromir drew his sword and approached with caution

He could now see that the man's head hung in sorrow and despair; his hair and clothes were matted with blood and dirt, and now Boromir could see that he was cradling a woman in his arms, he could make out her brown hair.

The man was murmuring in a low voice,a poem that seemed unfamiliar to Boromir:

"Time flows by and by,

And even as you leave this world,

You shall not be forgotten.

You lived a life of bravery and courage,

You shall not be forgotten; I shall not forget you…"

Boromir saw that the woman he was holding was bleeding very badly, it seemed that she had an arrow in her stomach.

"W—who are you?" he asked in a shaky voice, but yet trying to sound bold at the same time.

The redheaded man turned around; his face was scarred and covered with blood.

"Brother?" the man said in a voice that was all but a whisper. "Help me."

Boromir had never seen his brother like that; he dropped his sword, stumbled, and fell on his rear.

"Brother, you must help me!" cried Faramir, gently laying the body down; his hands were covered in the woman's blood. Boromir now assumed that she was dead.

He began to scoot back and away from Faramir.

"Brother, please! Do not abandon me!" screamed Faramir, running towards him.

To Boromir, Faramir looked like a bloodied madman; he knew that running would be useless, and as he stared into the face of his brother, he could see…rage.

Boromir gasped and sat up on his horse; it took everything he had to not fall off at that time. He wasn't supposed to fall asleep, but he was quite exhausted from the battle, and when their horses had stopped at a lake to drink, he had drifted off into sleep—now, he wished that he hadn't.

He could feel the sun beating down on him, and as he looked around, Eomer and Theodred's horses were just beginning to trot away from the lake. He immediately regained control of the reigns and rode alongside them.

Despite the fact that it was a fairly warm day and the sun was shining, Boromir was almost deathly pale; the dream that he had just dreamt was horrific and it haunted him to the point where he didn't even want to think of sleeping.

But what did the dream really mean?

Did it mean that Faramir was indeed alive?

But if that was the case, then Boromir wondered what conditions he was living under, for he had clearly been beaten or those were untreated wounds from a recent fight. He knew not what to make of it.

He seemed so troubled, that even Eomer and Theodred noticed this, and they were worried for Eowyn.

Finally, Eomer rode closer to Boromir, and decided to see if he was alright; Boromir's head was slightly down, and he didn't seem to notice Eomer.

"Boromir," said Eomer, in a concerned voice, forgetting to address him formally. "Are you alright? Are you ill?"

Theodred momentarily turned his head to see Boromir's reaction. The soldier barely gave any.

"I am fine," he said finally; "You need not worry about me."

Eomer stared at him for a few moments, and then said nothing else on the matter, for as they all looked up, they knew that they would have to prepare for they reunion because the great gates of Minas Tirith were in walking distance.

0-0

A little while later, Eowyn was sitting in her room when she saw the door knob turning; she frown at this because she thought that only she had the key to her room.

"Who is there?" she called, walking up to the door.

The person on the other end didn't answer; instead, the door swung open, and in walked Denethor.

"I am sorry, my lord; I did not know that it was you at the door," she said as calmly as she could.

"I care not for your formality," he said bitterly; "The only thing that I care for is punishing you for bringing such embarrassment to me and my son. How long did you think that you could stay hidden? Don't tell me that you were so foolish as to think that you would spend all of your days with those…elves. You have indeed brough scandal to our door! Did you not think of the repercussions? If I would have known what you were really like, I would have married my son off to a woman who was much more worthy and appreciative than you," he stared at her with such anger that Eowyn thought he would try to kill her at that very moment.

"Perhaps you should have done just that, my lord; it would have made all of our lives much easier—tell me, did lord Boromir have any say about whether he was going to marry me or not? I think I know the answer to that, my lord. It is no; and yes, you should have been patient enough to learn about Rohirric women, for if you did, then my deeds would not come as such a surprise to you," Eowyn sounded much bolder than she felt, for she knew that she would have to face his wrath.

And she was right; Denethor was furious, but as he raised his hand to hit her, they both heard a stern voice from the doorway.

"I think that you have said enough, father," said Boromir in a calm, yet cold voice; "May I have a word with my wife—alone?"

Denethor was so furious that he could no longer look at the lady of Rohan; he turned and went to Boromir.

"It is good to know that you are well, my son," he said.

"Thank you, father; we shall talk soon," said Boromir.

Before leaving, Denethor whispered to Boromir. "Do not believe a word that she says; her words are poison, and she has a heart of stone. It is your duty as her husband to put her in her rightful place," and with that being said, he walked away.

Eowyn sauntered over to the window, she could hear Boromir close the door.

"Have you come to chastise me also, my lord?" she asked, with her back still turned to him.

Boromir had always envisioned her return, but now here it was; she showed no remorse for running away—at least as far as he could tell.

"What you thinking!" he shouted suddenly. "I was worried for you; I cannot tell you how much I feared for your life!"

Eowyn turned around swiftly, her blue eyes flashed with anger. "I am sorry that you went through much toil for me, but you shouldn't have!"

"How could I not have?" Boromir was so angry, he took her by her upper arms; "What was you thinking! How you do this, not only to me but to all of those who love you?"

"Get your hands off of me, Boromir!" Eowyn shouted, freeing herself. "I never want to see your wretched face again!" she said, smiting across his left cheek. "Get out!" she shrieked.

Eowyn's slap stunned and stung the Captain of Gondor, but his expression remained unchanged—except for a visible flicker of anger in his eyes.

"I thought that you would have at least been willing to try to make this work so that we wouldn't live in misery, but I see that I was wrong."

"Yes, you were; I do not love you and I never will! Get out!" she said; she had completely lost her temper, partly because everything was beginning to sink in; for as far as she knew, Arial was dead, her plan to escape had eventually failed, and now she was forced to live in a prison called Minas Tirith until her dying day.

Before turning to leave, Boromir spoke to her once more. "Father was right: you do have a heart of stone," and with that being said, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. He had slammed it quite hard, so hard in fact that the pictures on the walls shook.

She sighed deeply; "That went well."

A/N 2: I know that the poem wasn't all that great, but who says that all poems must rhyme? I hope that you guy's enjoyed the story. R&R. ; )