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A birthday request for "remembering Boromir". Shieldbearers The end of Solmonath was a time of remembrance in the Riddermark. Standing with Eomer, Lothiriel watched the river flowing around Theodred’s resting place as around a boat’s prow. Horn-calls and grieving voices sang of the glorious Shieldbearer, his might in battle, wisdom in council; but she knew well enough the sorrow they both shared was for smaller memories than these. For cousins can be close as brothers, after all. Quietly then she remembered Boromir’s kindly arm around her shoulders, the comforting smell of oil on leather and, against her cheek, the swordsman’s calluses as he brushed away her tears.
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