“Your heir will do you credit, Denethor. “

Boromir stretched a tiny bit taller as the visiting wizard patted his shoulder. Dismissed with a wave, he walked as slowly as possible from the room, studying the Head of the White Council and the Steward of Gondor. Soon - fairly soon - he too would need to lead men. What was the secret? No one would ever question an order that either man gave. Let Faramir prefer that ratty grey wizard who skulked around the archives and told stories. Boromir knew what was expected of him, and would do it well.