Darkness was descending slowly, the sun dipping towards the western horizon, turning the sky there as red as the ever-burning clouds of Mordor in the east. The whole world seemed filled with fire, the light of the sun reflecting of the low hanging clouds. There would be rain this night. Maybe an hour to go, then the fast-moving clouds would reach this remote hill and drench it.

I drew my cloak closer around me and crouched down beneath the one old tree that defied the incessant winds that swept this hill. It's leafs were already turning red with the first breath of autumn. Another year past. Another year filled with hiding and hunting and fighting.

Had there really ever been a time when Ithilien had been the domain of men? Now we were living like animals, hiding in caves, venturing out only at night to kill the orcs that were not traveling in too great numbers. At least we still were predators and not prey. How much longer till we had to give up entirely? How much longer till my father called us back to sit with the rest of the cattle and wait for the slaughterer to arrive?

Were we not men of Gondor? Were we not the force that held Mordor in check? Were we not the guardians of the free world? How could we be that, huddled in Minas Tirith and what other walled cities remained? It was cowardice that clouded my fathers mind. But none dared speak it out loud. Last of all me who didn't even dare think it unless I was well outside his reach. So who was the greater coward? Me or him?

But there were some things I dared to defy him in. Otherwise I would not have been on this hill in this lonely cold night. Waiting for a friend with similar problems.

I scanned the grassland for any sign of movement but was disappointed. The only sound was the eternal wind, chasing across the empty land. Not even orcs were about this night. Luckily. The two of us on our own would have given them a hard fight but we would not have had a chance to win against a warband. And what a pitiful end that would have been. For two such renowned commanders to die missing from their troops.

I tried not to doubt that he would come. Every three month we met here to share news, to compare notes on the developments of both friends and foes. Every three month out hopes were diminished a little bit. How long till one of us would not come? How long till one of us was killed by a well placed blow or caged in 'safety'?

Tiredly I rubbed my face. It had been a long walk here. And I had seen more orc-tracks than the last time. Many more, going both ways. 'The alliance grows stronger' I thought, coldness creeping into my heart. Maybe one day we would even meet on the field as enemies. If it was true what he said. That Theoden King walked deeper into shadow each passing day. To fight the riders of Rohan. Could I bring myself to fire an arrow at our neighbors? To pierce the heart of a would be friend with my sword? What times of madness were we living in that forced a man to harbor such thoughts?

Having spend her fury, the sun took refuge behind the horizon, leaving the world dark and cold. Would I was able to hide my face like that, to simply leave this world behind for a night. But I was bound to Gondor by fate and birth.

A first drop of cold water hit my face and I pulled up the hood of my cloak, huddling closer to the trunk of the tree. Briefly I considered entering the caves that were hidden in this hill and waiting there, but then I decided to brave the rain and wait outside. He would welcome a helping hand, if he was traveling in this weather.

Soon the rain fell, hiding everything in a veil windswept of water. At least the east-wind was true, blowing the rain away from my face. What a miserable night. Maybe it would not be so bad to be locked up in Minas Tirith after all. At least there I would die of boredom and not of cold.

So wrapped up in my dark thoughts was I, that I barely noticed the tired neighing of a horse below. I realized that I was next to invisible with my green cloak huddling next to the tree. I got up slowly, my legs still tired from the long way here, my whole body protesting against the wetness and the cold.

Faintly I could make out a horse, slowly making it's way closer to the hill, it's rider leaning low over his neck, swaying slightly. That made me move quickly. My friend was not one to fall of his horse and he looked like he was close to it.

It was more a slide down the slick hillside than a walk but at least it was fast. Within a few moments I was next to his horse and took it's reigns. "Eomer? Are you all right?"

He made a visible effort to sit up straighter. "Yeah, sort of.." his voice was slurred with tiredness and a hint of pain. "Just lack of sleep. I'll be okay." But he didn't look good at all. Even with the little light available I could see that the circles under his eyes were deep and there was blood on his armor. Red blood. Not the black blood of orcs.

Without comment I led his horse back around the base of the hill towards the cave-entrance, hidden in the underbrush. When I had arrived I had checked the caves. They were still undisturbed by the orcs traveling these lands. A safe haven in a land that was fast turning hostile.

I helped Eomer down from his horse and he leaned heavily on me. Drawing in his breath with a sharp hiss when I took his arm to aid him. I left the horse outside and we both entered the cool dryness of the caves.

The small fire I had lid earlier still burned and I led Eomer over to it, frowning deeply when I realized that the blood was his own. There was a wound in his shoulder that had been dressed but had started bleeding again.

"What in the name of darkness are you doing here?" I asked him, anger in my voice. "By all rights you should be in a proper bed, sleeping and healing."

He dropped down next to the fire, sighing gratefully. Then he looked up at me, a sheepish smile on his tired face. "I had to see you. It might well be the last time we get a chance. The king is losing the last of his waning mind. Not much longer and I fear I will have to confront him. And that can only lead to disaster."

He knelt down next to him, trying to ignore the pain in his eyes. Instead I busied myself with checking his wound. "Then don't confront him. Wait for a good opportunity. You said there were times when his mind cleared..."

Eomer hissed with pain when I pulled the bandage aside. It must have been an arrow who pierced my friends shoulder. An orc arrow. At least it had obviously not been poisoned. I turned around to dig for some fresh bandages in my pack but his hand held me back, turning me so I had to face him.

"Faramir, I can't." he whispered. "Wormtongue is eyeing my sister. I must fight. I must..."

Despair rose in my heart and I did the only thing I could to quench it once more. Grabbing his hair hard I drew him towards me, kissing him fiercely. Clinging to his taste like a drowning man. Before my mind eye I saw his severed head, displayed on a pike before the gates of Edoras.

"I see darkness closing in on all sides." I whispered, when I finally let go of him. "My father sees only shadow and slowly - so do I. Where is the light of day? Where is hope in this land?"

He looked at me with so much love that it threatened to split my heart. "Has your brother still not returned? Is there no word from him?"

I shook my head. Boromir, where are you? Proud son of Gondor. To see your face would brighten father's eye. Where have your paths' led you? Your land needs you.

"He will come back." Eomer told me softly. "He has ever kept his word and he promised to return in time, didn't he?"

"Yes," I answered, "but who can say, if it is not already too late? As darkness clouds your king's mind, so does in envelope the steward's heart. He believes Boromir dead. Eomer, I see no hope."

"Still we must fight. That is what we were born to do. That is our fate. Even without hope."

He ran his fingers trough my hair and I trembled under his touch.

"I had to come." he said again. "If this is the last night I will be able to hold you, so it must be. But hold you I will. Not Saruman himself could have kept me from being here tonight." He moved his shoulders and grimaced in pain. "And he tried bloody hard."

That somehow broke my bleak mood. With a grim smile I started unfastening his armor. "If that is how it must end, you shall have your wish." I told him, tugging his armor off ignoring his pained expression. "You have delivered yourself into my hands for this night and I promise I shall make good use of you..."

---

And I did. Neither of us got much sleep that night but we were not sorry. There was a warming fire burning in the pit of my stomach when we parted ways in the weak light of a misty morning. It would not last for long, I knew. But I would hold on to it as long as I possibly could.

"Be careful, Faramir." he told me, smiling down from his faithful horse. "Do not let the orcs get you. And beware of the darkness so it does not sneak into your heart as well."

"I will." I answered, clasping his hand in farewell. "And you be careful as well. Do not get yourself killed by your own kin. You will not be much help to your sister, if Wormtongue finds an excuse to dispose of you for good."

He nodded, but I could see the seething rage in his eyes. He would not keep a level head. He never did. He turned his horse northwest spurring it into a light trot.

"Let me tell you this, Eomer of Rohan," I called after him, "if you get yourself foolishly killed, I shall come to Edorars myself to extract foolish revenge and get myself killed as well!"

I heard his laugh echo over the empty grasslands for a long time.

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