Through all his long years, Mithrandir had envied neither elf nor man, concentrating always on his task: the defeat of the Dark One.
Yet when the raven-haired boy gazed at him with such admiration, he could not help but wonder: what it would have been like to father such a child? To see him grow daily in grace and wisdom, to delight in his eager curiosity, to mold his learning to noble ends? Why was such joy granted to one who treasured it not?
He revered his King Elessar, but dear Faramir had always been the child of his heart.
For Acacea, a fellow November baby