Summary: Two soldiers on the walls of Minas Tirith discuss Faramir and Éowyn.

A/N: Like in The Interview, their grammar stinks. I just did it for that kind of effect. If you don't like it, I'm sorry. No, I really am.

Warning: Kind of confusing as this story goes on. It's meant to be this way. You'll see why.

Disclaimer:

Non-original Characters: They do not belong to me. They belong to Tolkien, and I am merely borrowing them.

Original Characters: Some may share the same names with those other original characters in my other stories. But they are in no way affiliated.


Minas Tirith was still shrouded in doubt. There have been no news of the captains, yet Albarod was humming to himself. Next to him, Andir was feeling peeved at hearing the terrible humming. He knew the song Albarod was trying to hum, and he also knew it definetly did not sound like that. Yet, Andir did not ask Albarod to stop: The City was quiet enough.

Suddenly, Albarod ceased his singing and gave a short, wry laugh.

"What's so funny?" Andir snapped.

"I was just thinking," said Albarod. "Can you believe that only about a while ago, the Witch-king was slewn on this here ground?" Albarod gestured toward the Pelennor below them. It was shrouded in a thick mist, making it appear mysterious and threatening. "It makes me shiver to think of it."

"Why's that?"

"Why's what?"

"Why do you think that it makes you shiver to think the Witch-king was slewn here?" asked Andir, irritated at his less-than-bring companion. "I thought that that's a good thing."

Albarod looked around. "I dunno," he said, shrugging (if you can shrug in heavy armor, that is). "You never know what kind'o spirit he left around. Could be," he lowered his voice, "dangerous."

Andir laughed. "I never knew you were superstitious. For goodness' sake, Al. If he's dead, he's dead for good."

Albarod shrugged again. "I'm not superstitious, Andir. Still, y'never know. I think it'll take a whole lot of courage to slay the Witch-king of Angmar."

"Lady Éowyn up in them Houses there," Andir said. "She didn't seem to find it too hard. Nor did that Halfling that rode with her. Both of 'em kilt him like as if it were a piece of cake." Secretly, Andir wished that he could've seen the Witch-king die.

They fell silent for a while. Their ears rung with the silence. Somewhere in the City, someone coughed. Never had a cough sounded so human. Andir sighed, his breath becoming mist in the cool air.

"Say," said Albarod. "What's become of the Lady Éowyn, eh?"

Andir thought for a minute. Then he replied, "I dunno. Last I heard of her, the Lord Faramir's been spending plenty of time with her." Andir laughed. "Sounds like wedding bells are going to chime soon, if you ask me."

"Don't be a fool, Andir," said Albarod. "I don't think Cap'n Faramir'll ever marry someone like Lady Éowyn. He'll probably marry someone like... uh..." Albarod blurted the first name that came to his mind. "Lady Lothiriel. That's right... Lady Lothiriel."

"I thought it was against the law to marry your first cousin," said Andir, confused.

"No it ain't," said Albarod. "No one ever said that." Pause, pause, pause. "Is it true that you cant marry your first cousin?" said Albarod, his eyes widening. "I have a first cousin. She's a real looker. And I hope to marry her someday."

Andir snorted. "Sicko."

"Don't call me that."

"Call you what?"

"Sicko."

Andir decided to confuse Albarod. "Don't call me that!"

"But I didn't! I was simply telling you what you called me."

"Call you what?"

"Sicko!" Albarod gasped, exasperated.

"See, you did call me it!" Andir knew it was childish, but he could not think of a better thing to do. "I am right."

"Right? No, you're wrong."

"No, I'm right, you're wrong. So we're both right, but you're still wrong," Andir snapped quickly. He was laughing inwardly at the confused expression on Albarod's face.

Albarod was silent. Andir bit his lip to stifle a laugh. Then, Albarod said, "So is it or is it not alright to marry your first cousin?"

"It's alright," said Andir, "but I hear you have a chance of having weird children."

"Darn..." muttered Albarod. Albarod sighed. "So like I was saying, it's not likely that Cap'n Faramir will land with Lady Éowyn. It seems unlikely."

"Why does it seem unlikely?" asked Andir. "I think it'll be good if the Lord Faramir ends up with Lady Éowyn. I saw Lady Éowyn once. She's real pretty, you know. I bet she'll land with Lord Faramir anytime!" Andir paused. "Why are even having this conversation? Are you saying that the Lord Faramir will not end up with anyone? Is that what you're saying?"

"I never said that," retorted Albarod. "I just said that Faramir will not end up with Lady Éowyn. I never said he won't end up with anybody."

"Convince me."

"About what?"

"Why the Lord Faramir will never end up with Lady Éowyn," snapped Andir. At last... he thought. Something to do... At long last.

"Because, well," said Albarod uneasily. "Well, Cap'n Faramir is a man of Numenor. And Lady Éowyn is just some shieldmaiden from the north of a fiery descent. And he's so gentle! And if she's able to slay the Witch-king, she has to be fiery in some way...

"Or maybe she was on drugs."

Andir gasped. "On what?"

"On drugs. Maybe she isn't fiery at all! She was just feelin' pretty high when she kilt the Witch-king."

Silence.

"No, that's pretty unlikely," said Albarod.

"Finally someone has sense in his head!" Andir cried triumphantly.

More silence.

"So tell me why you," said Albarod, "think Faramir and Éowyn will end up together."

Andir cringed and clenched his fists. "Just drop it, will you?"

"All right!" Albarod cried. "All right!"

Pause, pause, pause.

"Did you say Lady Éowyn was pretty?" Albarod asked.

"Yup," Andir said, nodding.

"So what do you think the chances of her and me ending up together, eh?" Albarod grinned.

"One in a million," Andir said. "That's right, one in a million. Because she and Faramir are going to live happily ever after."

"I thought you said to drop it."

Andir heaved a sigh. "I simply mentioned it because 'tis related to the first half of the sentence, that's why."

"Yeah, but that's still bringin' it up. And now that you've brought it up again," Albarod said, "I'm going to finish telling you why they won't end up happily ever after."

Andir moaned. "But I didn't bring it up."

"You sure did."

"Alright, alright," said Andir. "Let's drop this once and for all. Let's just keep quiet and not speak for a while, understood?"

Albarod nodded.

Only fifty-nine seconds after Andir issued this command, Albarod said, "D'you think Sauron is ever going to be destroyed?"

While the guards launched into another argument, two lone figures stood on the walls of the City, their hair streaming out into the mingling air.

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