AN:  A double drabble

A stone city and a stone husband, they gibed when I married Denethor.

 In truth, I miss the rolling ocean and the way our city spills down to the shore.  I miss the rollicking boisterous ocean breeze that would of a sudden rush through streets clattering doors and tumbling down people’s carefully arranged goods.  I miss the openness of a sky that spreads as far as an ocean runs.  But… there is strength in stone… strength, and beauty too.  My husband’s people build walls to protect them, and towers to guard them, but they carve each wall with flowing designs.  High arched doors lead into passages of smoothed and patinated stone; shades of stone spread complicated patterns across courtyards and even streets.  Oh, there is beauty in stone…  beauty and warmth….  At night, as the mountain’s chill winds blow down upon us, I hug the city walls as I walk to visit my husband and feel the gentle touch of warmth; warmth embracing me like a memory.  In my husband, too, I find the strength, beauty and warmth of stone; I miss the gaiety and grace of those I left behind, but know that I choose the strength of stone.