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Aug. 11th, 2004 06:22 amEarly morning drabble offering...rated G
Blue skies and sultry heat, rare for spring in Minas Tirith, Faramir contends. Frodo laughs, and for that brief moment, his old self shines through, and it brings me right back to Bag End, in that time after the daffodils first bloom.
He would stretch, and then he would take a sniff at the air, closing his eyes to fully take it in.
His eyes cloud with pain, and I wonder if he’s just seen what I’ve been fretting about -- that sometimes it’s better to stay in the darkness than to feel so briefly what can never again be.
Blue skies and sultry heat, rare for spring in Minas Tirith, Faramir contends. Frodo laughs, and for that brief moment, his old self shines through, and it brings me right back to Bag End, in that time after the daffodils first bloom.
He would stretch, and then he would take a sniff at the air, closing his eyes to fully take it in.
His eyes cloud with pain, and I wonder if he’s just seen what I’ve been fretting about -- that sometimes it’s better to stay in the darkness than to feel so briefly what can never again be.