"It is you who is a dream," said Faramir, reaching out to touch his shoulder, as if it was the very last thing that needed to be done in order for both of them to realize that this was, in fact, truth. Feeling solid, warm flesh beneath his fingers, he let out a laugh. "It is you who has come back from the depths of the realm of the dead. Boromir, you are alive! Truly this is a day more glorious than the rest."

His knees weakened, Faramir sought to seat himself beside Boromir, never taking his eyes off him, nor his hand on his brother's shoulder. Alas, the one before him seemed changed, and Faramir was not a fool nor ignorant to not have seen it, but for now joy had eclipsed the questions which arose from these observations. One thing needed to be said: "Father would be most pleased."