5. Reach (Denethor)
Hastening to the armsmaster for a report on my second-born son, I caught sight of the boy himself on the wall above. "Faramir! What are you doing?" Spitting over the parapet, I could see, as every yokel in the city had done before him.
He stepped back. "Bor'mir said I could not hit the enemy from here." I waited. He lifted his eyes. "I thought I could."
Those grief-grey eyes, the straight set of the jaw — like his mother… like his brother.
"You need a weapon with a longer reach," I said.
I glanced below. Yes, the armsmaster still waited.
(Birthday drabble for Altariel.)
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