Character: Boromir, Faramir
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Tolkien. I make no money from this
Boromir watched Faramir by the fountain; folded up, chin on pointed knees...humming.
...seven stones and one...
Boromir sat down beside him.
The tree looked particularly miserable tonight.
It jarred him...the beauty of the courtyard...and the broken thing at its centre...the empty throne.
Minas Tirith...beleaguered and static; re-enacting some dream of someone who never came.
But what did he know...
A breeze ruffled Faramir’s long hair...creating a fragile lattice with the dead branches in Boromir’s line of vision.
He shivered and squeezed the curve of Faramir’s shoulder.
Boromir knew about fragile things...and dreams are the most fragile of all.