Ch. 52 - Rembrandt – A Drabble

“What have you there?”

“Naught, Boromir,” Faramir’s grin turned slightly lopsided, “but an old clamshell.”

“May I see it?”

Embarrassed, he held his hand out. The clamshell was painted in soft watercolors.

Tears sprang to Boromir’s eyes. “From Dol Amroth! Mother showed us how after we’d collected them! Have you more?”

“Nay. Just this and another.” Faramir turned to a small chest that sat, opened, on his desk. This shell had two large eyes painted on it and a wide, slightly crooked smile.

Boromir took his brother in a great hug, fists clenched, and laid his head on Faramir’s shoulder.