⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.
he feels a lump form in his throat as he beholds the magnificent sight before him. the tree of gondor blooming into life is a spectacle that fills his heart with an indescribable warmth.
" i'm so... grateful to witness this beauty, tis a beacon of light in our world. "
he extended out his hand, wanting to bring his steward closer.
“ hope has been restored, and spring without sauron brings in sunlight and rain that nurtures the tree. ”
he lets faramir soak it in, knowing how special this moment is.
" i know a thing or two about loving from a distance, brother. but I believe we all have the right to express our feelings, our love. "
faramir shares, his voice tinged with understanding and empathy. above all, he wants Boromir to find happiness.
with the elf safely returned, everything else pales in comparison. whether from sheer joy or profound relief that the war is over, tears stream down his face. holding onto legolas, he nods gratefully. " Yes, you really made it. i never once doubted you, legolas."
worry tinges -
he did not truthfully notice faramir approaching him until he was suddenly pulled into an embrace. the elf was surprised, as he was not used to physical affection no matter how many years he’s been friends with aragorn.
the gentleness
*
-- the elf urgently yet softly, noting the pain etched on legolas' face. " you made it, " he whispers, a smile of relief touching his lips as he guides them towards the healing room.
as they walk, he can't help but jest, " you don't look too rough."
there, among the crowd, stands the someone special. legolas appears disheveled and lost amidst the chaos. some of the soldiers show signs of pain, prompting faramir to assist them to the healing rooms before hurrying back to find legolas. Without uttering a word, he embraces --
he is quite tired, something that is new for the elf. they were almost overwhelmed by the enemy and had almost lost this day. but thankfully, he only returned to gondor with a few bruised ribs and dirt on his forehead.
tiredly, he
*
as the victorious soldiers return into view, faramir's heart swells with a mixture of relief and uncontainable joy. his expression softens, and he lets his bow slip from his grasp, its weight yielding to the ground. with eager eyes, he searches the crowd, hoping against --
returning from war, the elf — for the first time — is completely exhausted. dirtied, bloodied is he, yet …
there is peace in the air that has not been felt before in the three thousand years he’s been alive.
he feels he can breathe again.
-- hope to spot that special person he had only recently come to know but had formed a deep connection with. his silent plea echoes: please, let him be among the survivors. they had shared plans and made promises, and faramir's yearning for their reunion hangs in the balance of -
his mouth hangs agape in awe at the magnificent sight of the tree of gondor.
never before has faramir felt such overwhelming joy, beholding the beauty of its bloom and understanding its profound meaning. he blinks back tears of joy and whispers,
" how, my king...? "
( leading him through the halls, Aragorn grew excited to show his steward something that he knows he’ll enjoy.
guiding him outside, he finally showed him the tree of Gondor.
there was another flower that bloomed. )
( taking his arm in his hand for a brief moment before letting go. )
follow me.
( and he turned his heel and walked a certain direction, expecting his steward to follow. )