It was futile to retake Osgiliath. Faramir would join Boromir and mother sooner if he fell defending the country he loved. He was weary of days of uncertainty and loss.

Retaking Osgiliath seemed the only thing he could do to earn his father’s respect. But did he even care? He wished for our places to be exchanged. 

The horse’s gallop inched him closer to the orcs that swarmed like beetles towards them.  Death seemed more promising than a way to force the Enemy’s hand for surrender. Isn’t it better to have death?

It would be better to die with honor.

*For the tolkien100 challenge on Livejournal