Boromir was peering over the edge of the cradle, watching the baby with equal parts suspicion and fascination. "Nanny, what is he doing?" he wanted to know. "Why's he doing that?"

I went to his side and looked into the cradle for myself. Little Faramir was not doing anything unusual that I could see; he was only staring up at Boromir with eyes that were not quite focused. "Why is he doing what, duckling?"

"He stopped doing it." Boromir sounded resentful. "He was scrunching his nose up, like - there, see!" He pointed triumphantly, and sure enough, Faramir was wrinkling his nose and working his mouth as if about to speak. "Why's he doing that?"

"He is sleepy," I said, picking up Faramir and marveling at how light he was, compared to Boromir at the same age. It was as if his bones were hollow, like a bird's. "Come, would you like to help me rock him?" It was not strictly necessary, of course - he would fall asleep no matter what I did, but it was hard for me to resist the opportunity to rock a little one again.

"No, I don't want to help," Boromir replied with a touch of aggression, and I sighed to myself. He had been showing small signs of jealousy - there had been no notable incidents yet, and though I hoped there would never be, I doubted I would be that fortunate.

Boromir stood stiffly by the rocking chair, watching with narrowed eyes as I settled his brother in my arms. "He's doing it again," he said, almost accusingly, but then he grinned. "He looks like a rabbit when he does that."

I laughed softly. "You are right," I agreed, lightly brushing Faramir's tiny nose with a fingertip, which made him twitch it again.

Boromir giggled and came nearer to us. "Can I do it?"

I nodded, smiling, and tilted my arms a bit so he could reach more easily. He copied my gesture, and again burst into giggles at Faramir's response. This time, however, Faramir not only wiggled his nose, but gave a wide yawn and murmured fretfully.

Boromir's face darkened. "Boring," he declared. "I'd rather have a real rabbit."