Character: Young Faramir and Boromir
Source: Pre-Ring War
Disclaimer: All these lands belong to Tolkien, for as far as the eye can see...
The visit to the Belfalas estate of the Dol Amroth’s distant relative had been tarnished by a summer-cold that blocked his ears and made his nose stream. Curiously, Amah was also treated as a distant cousin, though her stern regime of foul-tasting willow-bark tea and bed-rest was irksome enough to stem curiosity. The family raised grain and fine horses; after three days, Faramir was eager to be outside with his brother and cousins... but now... he wasn’t sure he wanted any part of this. It was wrong.
He was fourteen; he knew it was wrong. Why didn’t Boromir see that?
He followed the other lads slowly, dawdling, dragging his feet until he could bear it no more.
“Boromir – I can’t do it!”
His brother turned, “What?”
“I can’t. You can’t do it either.”
“I don’t know...”
“What they’re planning... with those girls... it’s vile, wicked!”
Boromir paused, looking startled; he murmured something Faramir failed to catch
“What did you say?”
Boromir spoke again, still Faramir looked puzzled. Then understanding dawned for Boromir; he came close so his brother could hear clearly.
“Faramir – they’re laughing because Orodreth said we’re going to reap among the girls. Not...”
“Oh...” said Faramir, blushing scarlet.