so...I had this chapter, and I relly wanted to post it tonight. there is surprisingly a lot of angst in this chapter, mostly coming from the Hobbits... Hope you enjoy this chapter,

Something that I have forgotten to do lately is say that I do not own any of the characters. When I wrote this chapter I thought that I had created a character, mainly Sam´s sister, but she actualy has already been created, so...Sorry once again for miss chapters fiasco, I´m going to blame it on the different computer I am using.

To God Be The Glory!

As supper was cooking, Pippin turned to Mithrandir, "Do you have a favourite childhood memory?"

Faramir, who was taking a drink of water, chocked, bending over and coughing harshly, Pippin looked at him,

"What!"

Mithrandir chuckled, "I didn't have a childhood." He looked at Pippin, "But I'm sure you knew that."

The Hobbit shrugged sheepishly, and ignoring the others laughs turned to Gimli, "Fine then, what's your favourite childhood memories."

The Dwarf thought back, "Perhaps when my father came back from the quest that he, Bilbo, and the others went on. We had no idea if they were going to come back, there is so much danger out here, even back then. There was a possibility that each day he was gone, was the day he died. There was so much joy for the families of the ones who came back, laughter and shouting." His eyes grew distant, "The first thing my father did was give a hug to me and whisper in my ear 'I missed you so much.' Then he embraced my mother, hugging her tight, and I saw tears in both of their eyes when they separated." He fell silent, then looking up at Legolas who was standing above him, "And you Elf? What would your favourite memory from when you were a child be?"

Legolas smiled down at him, fingering his bow, "That would be the day my Father gave me my first bow. It is a sign with my people, a sign that the person who gives the bow trusts his or her life with the one who revived the bow. My father came to me on the morning of my birthday, he handed me the bow, already strung, and a quiver of arrows, then he turned, leaving the room, his back to me. He trusted me with his life, and that is the greatest gift that one can give." He looked to Sam, who was stirring the soup. "And you, Master Samwise?"

The Hobbit looked up surprised, then down bashfully at the pot, serving the soup into boles, and handed them to the others before talking "The day my lil' sister was born. She was so small, and tiny. And I knew that I needed to protect her, even if it means goin' off on a trip that might get me killed to save Arda for her."

There was silence, then Faramir spoke up, "That is most honourable and brave. Treasure that memory my friend, never forget it."

Pippin broke the silence, his face serious with a past memory, after a quick glance at Frodo he started,

"When I was told that my big cousin Frodo was sick...I was scared, he was still young in Hobbit reckoning, twenty-seven years old, and I only was five, but he was always their for me, willing to let me tag along with him. All I knew was that no one was allowed in to Bag End, and that Frodo was wild, and incoherent. I was scared that he would want to be with his parents more than with all of us. I remember the day that I came into the home, and saw him sitting in a chair, thin, and white, but still alive. I was so glad that I still had him that I just ran to him and hugged him tight." He looked over at Frodo, "My favourite memory is knowing that you were still here, and that I still had you." Faramir looked in surprise at the Hobbits, they were the most cheerful of the company, but they also had the most thought provoking favourite memories.

Pippin suddenly smiled, "Merry!"

The other Hobbit shrugged, "Really it's rather simple. I remember my family moving into a new home, I don't remember much about it, but I know my father and mother each held my hands, leading me around the house, and as I stumbled over the steps, my father picked me up. I remember his strong arms holding me secure." He nodded to Frodo, then took several mouthfuls of the soup,

The ring bearer sighed, "I don't know. I guess it would be the day that Uncle Bilbo took me in. It was the start of a wondrous upbringing. Bilbo always had stories, and tales to tell. He would take me on long walks, and teach me of Elves, and Arda." He sighed, fingering the ring, and Faramir watched with narrow eyes. Frodo jerked back to the present, "Strider, what's yours?"

The ranger smiled dreamily, "The day I met Arwen." He trailed off, and Faramir smirked a bit. Pippin, gave a small laugh and turned to Faramir,

"Now you."

Faramir smiled a bit, and looked up to meat Mithrandir's eyes, the wizard nodded to him,and he took a deep breath, smiling as one memory came to mind.

"When I was about six years old, I had been playing a game with my brother. I was hiding in the wine celer, and got trapped, as I was trying to get out, I broke my arm..." He trailed off, casting a glance at Mithrandir, "I was stuck down their for several hours, till a servant fond me as he was getting wine for my father." Faramir let out a tight laugh, "I came out of that incident with a discomfort for dark small places, but I've never forgotten the feeling of Father's arms around me as I woke up in the healing room." He looked up, and saw the others looking at him, Pippin spoke up,

"Your father sounds nice."

Faramir looked into Mithrandir's eyes again, "He loves me. But lately he has had a hard time showing it."

The wizard grunted, "I know he loves you, but what you said is putting it mildly."

Legolas looked hard at the wizard, "What do you mean by that?"

Faramir sighed, "He loved my mother, almost too much. When she died, part of him died as well. I remind my father too much of her. He has buried his love for me deep, so he will not hurt if I die. But it has been getting worse, he started using the palantír when I was...I had been taken by a old servant, who's mind was lost. He thought I was his son that he had lost...The old servant was killed, and I was taken from him-" He broke off, clenching his jaw, then shaking his head, "My father was trying to find me, so he used the palantir. He didn't find me, and by the time that I was rescued, he had already changed, I was told it took time, but two years was enough time to change him. He hasn't stopped using it, and has been changing ever since."

Merry's eyes grew wide, "Two years! But if the servant was old, why didn't you escape?"

Faramir stayed silent, and Aragorn, changed the subject,

"Why do you not take the palantir?"

"I can't, it is kept in a locked tower, and I do not have the key to open the door. Also...I fear what it would do to him." He got up, placing his empty bowl by Sam, "Thank you, Sam." Faramir moved away from the group, climbing the ridge, sighing, he had hoped that that bit of his past would stay quiet. He didn't want everyone to know of it, the kidnapping, or his father. As the noise behind him grew, the Hobbits working their magic and lightning the mood, he smiled. Letting the silence of nature wash over him. Then he stood still, concentrating. At a noise behind him, he turned, seeing Aragorn, "Something's wrong."

Aragorn nodded, "It's too quiet, there is always animals, and birds around here." he turned to Mithrandir, looking down at him from the ledge, "I have a sense of fear and watchfulness, we need to stay silent, and rest." He clambered down, and Faramir followed, they helped the Hobbits store the food, and dishes. Sam hurriedly climbed the ledge, and Faramir watched as Aragorn followed.