I. The Light in Minas Tirith

Instructions

⠀⠀⠀⠀I squeezed through the crowd, trying to get a glance of Lord Denethor and his son, Boromir. Today was his initiation as the captain of the Gondorian army. ⠀⠀⠀⠀But the people were too tightly packed for me to even hope to see them on the green. Someone grabbed my arm sharply and yanked me back. ⠀⠀⠀⠀"Laurethiel!" Father hissed, his mouth at my ear. "You are being rude." ⠀⠀⠀⠀"What's the point of even being here if I can't see?" I demanded, tucking my long blonde hair behind my ear. ⠀⠀⠀⠀He lightly slapped the side of my face. ⠀⠀⠀⠀"Do not speak again, Laurethiel," he commanded, and I meekly bowed my head. ⠀⠀⠀⠀When his eyes were again directed at the ceremony that he could see, and I could not, I slipped through the crowd, heading away from the citadel towards the stairs leading into the city. ⠀⠀⠀⠀At last free of the heat and uncomfortableness of the crowd, I ran through the empty streets, happy to be free. ⠀⠀⠀⠀A grey cat darted in front of me, a mere blur, and I slowed, deciding to follow it. Winding through the streets, it darted through a hole in a building, disappearing from my sight. I did not have long to contemplate whether to follow it or not before I heard the sound of crying, low and soft, in the corner of the alley. ⠀⠀⠀⠀I approached warily, spotting the hunched form in the dark. ⠀⠀⠀⠀"Who's there?" A voice asked, young, but not weak. ⠀⠀⠀⠀I didn't answer, and instead sat down beside the boy, who seemed a bit older than me. ⠀⠀⠀⠀He had darker hair than me, more of a bronze honey color, and his face was oddly familiar. ⠀⠀⠀⠀"Go away," he muttered, hiding his face. I could plainly see his tears, but I didn't mention them. ⠀⠀⠀⠀"I'm Laurethiel," I whispered. "What's your name?" ⠀⠀⠀⠀"Doesn't matter," he answered, but his tone was lighter, less harsh, and I watched him discreetly wipe his face. ⠀⠀⠀⠀"You're missing the ceremony," I continued. "The whole city is there." ⠀⠀⠀⠀His face tightened, and he glowered, "I don't care to see it." ⠀⠀⠀⠀"What's the matter?" I asked before I could think. ⠀⠀⠀⠀"You would be crying, too, if you had my father," he cried. "He doesn't love me, and he doesn't try to hide it." ⠀⠀⠀⠀I watched his eyes fill again, and I felt the sadness. I knew my father loved me, even if sometimes he did not show it, but to have your father hate you? The thought was unbearable. ⠀⠀⠀⠀"He loves my brother though," his voice was low, "and I try not to hate him for it. Bor and I are good friends, although..." ⠀⠀⠀⠀I smiled softly, "What a funny name, Bor." ⠀⠀⠀⠀He looked into my eyes again, "It's my nickname for him. His name is not silly. I doubt anyone in Minas Tirith thinks Boromir silly." ⠀⠀⠀⠀"Your brother is Boromir?" I exclaimed, standing up. "Why, Lord Denethor is so awful to you?" ⠀⠀⠀⠀"Yes," he said, his voice matching my energy. "You wouldn't think it, would you?" ⠀⠀⠀⠀I snorted, "Yes, I would. He looks quite awful, if you don't mind me saying so." ⠀⠀⠀⠀"Ab^se him all you like, I won't defend him," he said moodily. ⠀⠀⠀⠀"But," I contiuned, not having heard this remark, "I did not know Lord Denethor had two sons." ⠀⠀⠀⠀"No, Faramir is a name rarely mentioned," he replied soberly. ⠀⠀⠀⠀"Faramir," I repeated. "Now, I like that a whole lot better than Boromir."