The night before Boromir's departure towards Rivendell was a cold one.
It bit through leather and skin of even the strongest of men, and Faramir could see the quiet suffering around him, even as bountiful ale was nursed between numbed fingers. The fire raged, yet it did little to provide the wearied soldiers of Gondor warmth.
Perhaps it was an omen - yet surely his brother would laugh at such a thought. Boromir always did, yet Faramir could not find it in his heart to be angry at him for it. Who could? He had yet to see anyone greater than his older brother, that it was easy to believe none could fell him. Denethor thought and said so, and his words, in Gondor, were truth. Were law.
Faramir filled a cup with ale, and moved towards Boromir. They all could use a drink.
boromir
It bit through leather and skin of even the strongest of men, and Faramir could see the quiet suffering around him, even as bountiful ale was nursed between numbed fingers. The fire raged, yet it did little to provide the wearied soldiers of Gondor warmth.
Perhaps it was an omen - yet surely his brother would laugh at such a thought. Boromir always did, yet Faramir could not find it in his heart to be angry at him for it. Who could? He had yet to see anyone greater than his older brother, that it was easy to believe none could fell him. Denethor thought and said so, and his words, in Gondor, were truth. Were law.
Faramir filled a cup with ale, and moved towards Boromir. They all could use a drink.