Title: Fires of Lebennin (that's Lebennin as in a section of Gondor, not Lebanon, a country in the middle east.)
Summary: Only a few days before her wedding, Éowyn is kidnapped. Can Faramir find her and get her back in time to say 'I do'? Sequel to 'Fell Wound'
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the LOTR characters or places, though I do own a few of the OCs.
A/N: Hi everyone! Yes, it's true, I'm finally posting the second sequel to Faramir's story. This takes place about a month after Fell Wound when Éowyn and Faramir are about to be married.You may want to read at least Fell Wound to understand this. Enjoy!

'this' means thoughts. "this" is speech. Apparently I can no longer do double lines for thoughts, they don't appear anymore. Also, these line things are annoying, but they seem to be the only way to break up sections. Annoying computer.

'Crocuses or Irises. Irises or crocuses. Perhaps pink would be better than white. No, white is traditional in both cultures.'


'Though I should make a note not to suggest simbelmynë. That wouldn't be taken well by the Rohirrim, even if it is a beautiful flower.'


'I wish we could get elanor from Lothlorien, they would look beautiful on Éowyn...'

"Faramir, Steward of Gondor, would you please listen to me?"

Startled, Faramir blinked and looked up from his desk. He smiled at his frustrated bride-to-be. "Éowyn, I did not hear you come in."

Éowyn, White Lady of Rohan, rolled her eyes. "Nor did you hear me calling your name for the past few minutes. I need to show you something." She held up a bunch of white fabric, which Faramir assumed was a dress. "Look! This came today with a rider from Lothlorien! It is from Lord Elrond. How did he know I needed a dress?"

Faramir smiled at the thoughtfulness of his foster father. "He usually just knows these things. Though Lady Galadriel may have had something to do with it." The most recent pre-wedding dilemma came from the fact that there was no wedding dress. In Gondor it was traditional to wear the dress of the groom's mother, but Faramir's father had burned his wife's dress after her death. They could have fallen back on the Rohirric custom of wearing the bride's mother's dress, but that had been destroyed during the War. Éowyn had been fretting about it for nearly two weeks, thinking she would have to either sew a dress or borrow someone else's.

"He sent a note as well, though it is in Sindarin and I still don't know enough to read it." She handed Faramir the parchment and he proceeded to read it out loud.

Dear Tirpalandil and Lady Éowyn,
It has recently come to my attention that the Lady Éowyn is in need of a wedding dress. As the proud father of the groom, it is my pleasure to send to you, as a wedding gift, a dress made specifically for Éowyn by the elves of Imladris.

It is truly a blessing that you have found happiness in each other and I wish you both the joy and love that I have had with my Celebrían. Tir, your brothers and I will try our hardest to be at the wedding on time, though with Elladan being as he is on matters that require promptness, that may be impossible. Glorfindel and Eluial are in Lorien with us, and are planning to come as well. Until then.
With love,

Postscript: Lady Eluial wishes for me to give you her greetings, and says that if the dress is in any way torn or harmed by the messenger, you are to make sure he returns to Imladris to face her wrath.

Faramir grinned and raised an eyebrow at Éowyn. "So, do we need to tell the poor elf to flee fast and far?"

Éowyn brushed the dress. "Not a tear or loose thread. I believe it is safe for him to return home." She smiled. "Isn't it beautiful?"

She held it out so Faramir could see. It was a Rohirric-style dress, but made out of elvish satin. The neckline, sleeves, and hem were embroidered with tiny golden flowers. A white waistband with gold flowers and a golden border ran across the bodice and tied in the back, the sash flowing down onto the train of the dress. The white fabric split in the front from the sash, revealing a gold-threaded petticoat.

"It is beautiful." Faramir gently touched Éowyn's cheek. "But it pales in comparison to your beauty." Leaning in, they kissed.

Only to be interrupted by an indiscreet cough from the doorway. Breaking away, the couple turned to face a grinning King Aragorn. "May I inquire?"

Faramir smiled at his foster brother. "We were practicing."

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "Practicing?"

"For the wedding," added Éowyn.

"Ah. Well, I would not suggest 'practicing' when your brother arrives, Lady Éowyn. Rumor has it that the King of Rohan is not in a good mood at losing his little sister, even if he likes the groom."

Faramir sighed. "Do you need anything, my lord, or are you just here to add more stress in my life."

"Unfortunately, as much as I enjoy that, I actually need to speak with you concerning state affairs."

Faramir sighed again. He turned to his fiancée. "Éowyn, love... "

Éowyn placed a finger on his lips. "I know. Do not worry; I have more wedding preparations to see to that will keep me busy. And when you have finished here, please come and tell me what you have decided about the flowers."

"I love you."

She smiled. "I love you too."

Éowyn left, closing the door behind her. Faramir motioned for Aragorn to take a seat before settling behind his desk, which was covered in paper, quills, a gold piece he had found under his desk, a cup of water, an abacus, and a random pair of dice. 'I really should organize this.' He thought to himself for the thousandth time. "What has happened, my lord?"

"Tir, please call me Estel. 'My lord' is only for formal occasions."

"Very well, what has happened Estel?"

The King placed his finger on the map that was one of the pieces of paper on Faramir's desk. He pointed to the part of Lebennin where the Celos and Tumladen rivers joined to flow into the Sirith River. "The people of Imduinath are unsettled. As you know, they consider themselves to be part of Lebennin under jurisdiction of Lord Arendur. Lord Daendil of Lossarnach says that they fall under his authority and has been trying to make it official."

Faramir sat back in his chair. "Daendil is the councilman you have been trying to get rid of."

Aragorn nodded. "His ways are harsh, often to the point of cruelty. Unfortunately he has a lot of money, and many of the nobles are in his debt." Leaning on the desk, he spoke in frustration. "The kingship is still too fragile to go against so many on this, so I have uneasily let him go until now. Now, Daendil is saying that the Imduinathrim are pillaging Lossarnach villages and harrying their merchants. He is putting pressure on the Council of Lords to grant him leave to take over Imduinath, which he says should be his by right. Naturally, Arendur denies this and is moving to strip Daendil of his authority. Though that is what I wish, almost two-thirds of the council side with Daendil."

Faramir shuffled through the papers on his desk, finding the one he wanted. His eyebrows lifted on what the paper said. "I can see why Daendil wants that land. Because of the War, most of Lebennin and Lossarnach was burned or destroyed by the Southrons and Corsairs. Imduinath, though, was relatively untouched and is the most fertile ground in the south right now. Whichever lord controls it has control over distribution of the goods. I know Lord Arendur, and he would keep the prices low for the good of Gondor. But I also have heard of Daendil, and he will certainly try to make a profit on the people's hunger."

The King banged his hand on the desk. "I cannot allow Daendil's corruption to hurt my people! But if I side with Arendur and get rid of Daendil, the Lords could rise against me. Most of them are already distrustful of my right as king."

Faramir sighed. "It is the older ones, the ones my father placed on the Council. Most of them believe that only the heir of Anarion should be king of Gondor, and since there are none. . . "

". . . then the Steward should rule as King."

Faramir shook his head. "They are fools. Even if I wanted to rule, I would have no right to it. They forget that even though Isildur gave rule to Anarion's son, he still retained the title of High King of Gondor and Arnor, meaning as Isildur's Heir you are still the rightful King!" His face darkened. "We should make reading the history of Gondor a requirement for being on the council."

That made Aragorn laugh. "We should, though at times I wonder if any of them can read. But back to Imduinath, Daendil is urging the council to take action. The Council is looking to me, but I can do nothing until I have more facts one way or the other." He sighed. "Though I do not like it, I am going to have to send scouts."

Faramir thought a moment. "Perhaps scouts from Belfalas. That area is friendly with both Lebennin and Lossarnach. They also depend mostly on the sea for their livelihood, which means the outcome will not affect them much either way. I would say to send in Dol Amroth, but I fear that both parties would feel too intimidated." He grinned. "Even Daendil won't look Uncle Imrahil in the eye for long."

Aragorn nodded. It made sense. "That I will do. Thank you Tir, for your time." Standing up, the King patted his brother on the shoulder. "And now I will leave you to your flower arrangements. Good luck."

"Thank you, Estel." 'Hmmm. Perhaps asters. Yes, I like asters. I should go see what Éowyn thinks...'

Lord Daendil stormed out of the Council of Lords as the session ended. 'That upstart 'king' is ruining everything!' King Aragorn had just announced to the Council that he was sending scouts to check on Daendil's accusations. 'Why couldn't he just be a controllable milksop, or better yet, indebted to me as the others are?'

Daendil marched into house where two other lords were waiting for him. Lord Fuingon, also on the Council, was a squat man firmly under Daendil's control. The other, Lord Valglin, was a lesser noble with a greedy ambition far exceeding his station. Daendil trusted both men to do his dirty work for him.

"Fuingon, how goes the plan?"

The man bowed, a coward under Daendil's gaze. "Our source in Imduinath has been successful in his attempts at getting more of the enemy's armor and weapons. But he says that the Imduinathrim are getting suspicious and he can get no more for a time."

Daendil frowned. "This could be a setback."

"My lord, if I may speak?" Daendil nodded to Valglin. "From what I have heard from the Councilmen, the false attacks are not convincing them to comply. I do not think they know that the 'Imduinathrim' that are pillaging Lossarnach are our own men in disguise, but it has not been clear to them that there is a problem. In their opinion, it could be any band of robbers and cutthroats." Daendil knew Valglin was right. The lesser lord was the perfect fly-on-the-wall to hear what the Councilmen thought. No one paid attention to him because they thought he was not party to what was going on in the Council. "My lord, I would suggest something more noticeable. A theft, a murder of someone of importance in Lossarnach, a... "

"A kidnapping, maybe?" Startled, Valglin and Fuingon stared at Daendil as an evil smile spread across his face. "Yes, that would work. That would work even better. The 'Imduinathrim' kidnap a woman. A woman beloved by Lossarnach, one of high standing in Gondor. A woman the Lords cannot help but miss."

End of chapter one! I hope you liked it.