Disclaimer:I don't not own the Lord of the Rings.

A/N: Anyone else notice that there aren't many new E/F stories these days? Anyway this is an idea I've been playing with for quite some time now, and while I'm sure Eowyn loved Faramir, it doesn't mean it happened when we all thing it happened

The child moves with in my womb even as my husband tightens his grip about my body.

Tears flood my eyes like they have many nights before and I feel as my thoughts begin down the same road they have traveled many times since I became aware that I was with child.

One day, I know, when this child is born and grown, he will ask me how I came to love his father as I once asked my own mother. A frown forms on my lips and my tears begin to fall.

What will I say to my little one, whom I love with all my being even as he stir within my flesh?

Shall I sit this child in my garden and tell him that I did not and still do question my love for the man I call husband? There are trying times after all when I find it difficult to say the words he says so easily.

That he can shower me with love and affection and all that he was deprived of for so many years while I still tremble in the dark and at words that were spoken long ago, troubles me greatly. I do not question if time has devoured my love for him, I know it has not, for I married without love in my heart... yes as a friend, a companion to waste away the dreary hours in the Houses, but as a husband, I could love him not.

My eyes no longer strayed to the one I now call king, for my desire to be a queen is long dead. I still find comfort and joy in my husbands company; I take in his words now I did on the Walls of the White City. But am I to tell my child that? Am I to speak of my longing to be placed high above the ground so that I might be safe from the worms and the snakes that do slither there? Am I to speak of my shame for my country? The once noble and proud Riders of the Mark who became little more than peasants in their gilded hall; where renown is won with a sword and a war cry, though foolishness was what did drive that warrior to war. Am I to speak of that?

Am I to tell my son that I used his father's love to my advantage? Using it to leave the barren plains...Of my desire to die in war and honor, forsaking my King's command and Uncle's wish, leaving the women and children and old and weak to fend for themselves so that I might be sung of in lays and spoken of in stories.

Faramir pulls me closer in his sleep and I sigh as my little one moves again.

No, I decide. I will not speak of that. I will tell him that it was my love for his father that saved me. That it was from that first encounter in the Houses when I sought freedom that my heart first opened to him and would continue to open from then on. I will speak of starry mantles and dark waves and windows that faced eastward. I will speak of a great quiet when all the world held it's breath before a great relief was had, and a kiss on the walls that spoke of everything I had long stopped dreaming of. I will not utter a word of the nights I spent weighted down with my guilt as he took me in his arms and told me that he loved me only to be silenced by a kiss because I could not bring myself lie to him.

I will not speak of a time when husband meant friend more then love and wishes for freedom were answered with settling.

I will tell my son, and all that come after him, that I have loved their father since the day when darkness fell.

And should they ask why, I will merely smile my response. Love, after all, is known for lacking reason...