Disclaimer: Tolkien’s – not Kortirion’s, …but he’d understand this bit.
Notes: For Ann. For Boromir. For Others…
He trembled with anticipation; previously he’d had to sneak out to watch the commemorative fireworks. Tonight he was to stay up and join his parents, as the Court gathered around the White Tree for Remembrance Night. It was always a strange mixture, celebration and tears. He’d watched bright streaks glisten on his father’s face, and the Steward’s, as they passed the friendship-cup.
The dwarf-made fireworks were magnificent. The crowd ‘ooooed’ enthusiastically; then, as myriad tiny petals of red flame descended, they hushed. Aragorn whispered, ‘For Boromir…’ raising the cup, Faramir nodded – and he saw stars glisten wetly in their eyes.