Disclaimer: Tolkien imagined this first.
He waited. No one had halted his progress through this hallway, but neither had he been given direction. He hesitated... which way?
The many-layered, fine veils hanging on the walls billowed in the draughts, making the room’s boundaries seem to shift unnervingly. Misty shadows filled the corners… he could feel warmth draining away… and the darkness was growing.
Faramir automatically reached for his sword, but found nothing there – of course, he’d left it behind.
Dry-mouthed, he swallowed, tried to speak… nothing.
Then he heard his name called. He turned… saw light, a hand out-stretched… saw his way back.