Drabble: Probing

[claudia603]

Note: First line is Trianne's. Written for some "First Line" challenge circa 2004.

The floors of Minas Tirith were hard on a hobbit's feet, even a hobbit who had been out in the wilderness for weeks on end.

"I am sorry, Frodo," Faramir says, taking one aching hobbit foot and kneading. Frodo meets his gaze, nearly moved to weep by the compassion he sees there.

"The fault lies with me alone," Frodo answers. "It is I who wished to wander the City for hours."

Strong fingers probe deep, warming, easing. Frodo leans against the stone wall, closing his eyes and slipping into a sweet doze. At last they have come to sit under a different sun.