Wow, sorry that this took so long to update. I have been away at University and haven't had a lot of extra time for well...anything! And on top of that I have been struggling with some awful writers block, so if this is complete rubbish I may scrap it and restart.

A Secret to Keep

Out side Cellas' cave

Faramir forced himself to push away from the side of the cave. He looked to either side, making sure their was no enemy ready to strike at him. He looked up at the moon and saw that it was not so high in the darkened sky, and that Damrod would not have gone to get the others. He made his way towards the trees, and sly as a fox disappeared in to the wild.

Damrod was leaning against a sturdy oak, he was starring at the top of the tree line knowing that when the moon rose above it he would have to expect the worst and go for help. This was not a path he wanted to go down, so he waited quietly for the man he called Captain, the man he called friend, to return.

As he stood there his mind began to wonder, as it often does when one is alone. What are we doing here? There is no way the Lady Eowyn still draws breathe, this Cellas is a monster and we have no reason to believe that she is alive.

He hated himself for thinking Eowyn dead, he wanted to believe, for Faramir's sake that she was living still. But what proof did they have, a hunch from the woman's betrothed, hardly a non-biased opinion. Just as he was beginning to plan out how he would relay his feelings to the Captain he heard a rustle of leaves, it was ever so slight and the untrained ear would never notice, but he was a Ranger of Ithilien. All the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he reached back to his quiver and felt the soft feather of an arrow. He drew, and in a flash to quick for lighting, he loaded his bow and took aim.

"Hoot hoot" gently fluttered out of the darkness in front of him, and Damrod knew to lower is finely tuned weapon, for the gentle owl call was always used by the Rangers to signal each other. He soon after saw a hooded figure emerge out of the darkness, and as the hood was lowered he saw the unmistakable red-gold of Faramir's hair.

"My Lord, you are not long gone, have you found what you were looking for?" Damrod looked up into the misty grey of Faramir's eyes, hoping his friend would not crumble before him.

"I have found that and more my friend, though the difficult part of our little excursion has not yet begun I'm afraid." Faramir was avoiding eye contact, and he looked white as a sheet.

"Faramir" the friend in Damrod had come out and the soldier took a momentary sit down, "you are whiter then snow, what did you discover, is your Lady not unharmed? Look at me!"

Faramir inhaled deeply, he was torn, Damrod was his closest friend, but Boromir was his brother. He knew that to be a traitor to ones country was punishable by death, but to loose his brother again, and under circumstances like this would be crippling to him.

"I...I have seen Eowyn. She is momentarily uninjured. I... Damrod...I" He stumbled over his words hoping that a better thought would come to him, an excuse for Boromir's heinous actions, but none came and he simply blurted out what he had witnessed.

"You are certain of what you saw, I mean you are totally sure it was Boromir, not just a look alike?" Damrod now too was stark white, for the Boromir he had come to know quite well could not betray his country, and certainly not his beloved brother.

"I would know my brother anywhere, it was him...I just don't understand, he would never..." Faramir's thoughts kept trailing off, and Damrod could see that his friend was in shock.

"We need to get back to the camp, and get you warm." Damrod rose to his feet, for the two of them had sunk onto the grown with the weight of such heavy news.

"Damrod, please, I have told you this in confidence, I haven't decided what to make of this yet. You cannot tell Mablung or Anborn, you must speak of this to no one." Damrod frowned at these words, what was Faramir planning to do about this, he was going to have to tell someone if they planned to free Eowyn.

Cellas's cave

Eowyn didn't know what to make of this new finding. How on Arda had Boromir become so misguided, how did he get entangled with the likes of Cellas, and why would he go along blindly with such hateful and violent acts. The man she had come to know through the tales Faramir had told her were of a very different version of Boromir. Faramir had described his brother as a man dedicated to his lands, and more importantly to the people in it.

She also knew that if she was to be rescued it would mean that Faramir would have to watch his brother stand trial, and most likely put to death for treason. This would break him, she knew it would. She would have to keep Faramir from finding out, but how?

"Guard, please I need some water." she bellowed out into the corridor of the cave. She wasn't entirely certain what she had in mind, but it was better then waiting around for help, at this point she was desperate.

"Just a minute!" Gorgen, Cellas' apparent head orc, walked out of the shadowy tunnel and into the holding area she was in.

"Great, its you again." Eowyn mutter under her breath before she addressed him. "I said that I wanted some water. I assure, that even an orc can handle such a simple task, unless your master won't allow the privilege of fetching water?" she tried to sound as sarcastic as she could.

"Watch your step, filth!" Gorgen hissed in his deep hoarse voice. "I'll have you know that the Master has entrusted you to me, even over Boren!"

This clicked in Eowyn, why had Cellas replaced Boromir, especially with Gorgen, who was obviously quite dim? It must only be to keep Boromir as far away from her as possible, Cellas must fear that Boromir may remember his true identity.

Now wouldn't that put a damper on his plans, I have to get to Boromir! She thought to herself. She had to come up with a plan. She had to get the key to her shackles away form Gorgen.

"Fine, I'm sure you're a very civilized orc, now may I please have some water." she looked up at his grotesque face, trying to look pitiful.

"Pass me your mug, filth" he said flatly.

"I can't reach it, I am shackled you know." at this he squinted his bulging eyes in a look of distrust, and reluctancy took a few steps forward. Once he was passed her he turned his body towards the wayward mug, his neck still craning around to keep one bulging eye on her. He patted the ground in front of him, searching blindly for the mug, then not finding it, he squinted (if possible) harder at Eowyn, and turned his big deformed head around to eye the mug.

This was her moment, she planted her foot square on his bum, and with all her might catapulted him, ugly face first, into the rock wall. The big oaf smacked into it with a resounding thud, and seemingly bounced off landing flat on his back, out cold, in front of Eowyn.

Her eyes grew wide with pride as she spotted, dangling form his ruddy leather belt, a pair of slightly rusted keys.

Faramir's encampment

Mablung and Anborn, had a fire burning hot in front of them. They sat on a fallen log, with their cloaks held tight around them, for their was a chill in the air.

Mablung had lit the fire, though it had taken him more then a few tries, and this had, had Anborn, who was about five years his junior, laughing until tears came.

"How many years as a Ranger is it now? And it took you that long to start a fire! You kill me sometimes Mabs, you really do." Anborn looked over to the now scowling Mablung, and gave him a sportsman like slap on the shoulder.

"Well tyke" Mablung started, " When your leather gloves get too warn to wear, I'd like to see you start a fire with some twigs." Mablung was sitting arms crossed, and looking into the fire, his face expressionless. He was a good sport with these younger Ranger, Faramir, Damrod and the minxish Anborn, but tonight he was thinking.

"Mab, I'm sorry, truly, I don't mean to offend your skills as a Ranger." said the younger Anborn, his blue eye peered out from under dark brows, searching for a sign that he hadn't hurt his friends pride inadvertently.

"Eru Tyke, if you think not getting the fire going is enough to ruffle these old feathers, then you don't know me very well." the big man turned his head and winked. He was one of the most well loved men in the company, Mablung was, he was good at taking a joke, and even better and making them. But tonight he was pensive. He was worried about the Captain, worried about what would happen to him if Eowyn was indeed dead. The blow of losing Boromir had shattered him, he had lost his will to live and was willing to lay down his live recklessly in battle. He was never the same after the death of Boromir, but when Faramir became betrothed to Lady Eowyn, you could see the change in his eyes, those kind eyes that had gone hollow during the war, were back.

"I suppose that they will be returning soon, do you reckon we have a chance to retrieve the Lady." Anborn said, as he began pulling a small frying pan from his saddle pack, then he unfolded a leather pouch and put a few pieces of salted pork into the pan, and settled it on the fire.

"I'd like to think so, for the Captain's sake, but we have all seen first hand what this Cellas is capable of." Mablung was shaking his head as he spoke on, "I don't know what the Captain will do if... never mind, its bad luck to think like that until we know what's what."

Anborn was about to give his own take on the situation at hand, when two hooded figures emerged out of the darkness. Faramir was ashen faced, and Damrod too, was quite pale.

"My Lord, are you alright? Here sit, sit." Mablung steered his Captain towards the fallen log he and Anborn had been sharing.

"I'm alright Mab, could I have some water...thanks Anborn." He drank a large gulp and then realized their were three sets of eyes staring at him. "Umm...well I saw Eowyn, she's alive."

The three other men kept their fixed gaze on him, waiting for some sort of a game plan. Faramir broke their eye contact. He looked to the ground, needing a moment to think; Damrod knew about him seeing Boromir, but he didn't know if he should tell any one else. Of course then their was Diriael, who was in Minas Titith, waiting for Faramir to call on him for aid. And what would he tell the Aragorn, this was going to get messy, and Faramir want sure he could handle it.