Oh, he had a sweet tooth, our young lord Boromir! Whenever he returned home to us, safe and whole, I’d fix his favorites: breakfast cakes drizzled with ginger glaze; milky tea sweetened with honey and cinnamon; crisp duckling roasted with oranges and dates. He’d laugh, and kiss me, and call me his dearest Mag. I’d shoo him away, but not before he’d grab a handful of sugared almonds, for later.

Now, every year on his birthday, my lord Faramir bakes ginger cakes, with his own hands, in memory. Not as good as mine, but Faramir tries his best, bless him.