14 May 2006 | 100 words
Imrahil walked briskly towards the gardens, eager to reassure himself that his nephew had indeed recovered completely.
He found them by the walls; the winds carrying their smiling voices across. A flash of colour caught his eye, reminding him of another smiling couple, and the mantle of midnight blue.
Faramir came bounding up the steps to meet him. Éowyn followed slowly, drawing the cloak around herself.
He could see the news in their happily flushed faces. His sister’s twin legacies lay now with Éowyn. And as she stood by Faramir, cloak in hand, he knew both rested in good hands.
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