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TolkienScribe's Scribblings  by TolkienScribe

Amrothos

He examined himself carefully in the looking-glass. The knife-wound was healed, the thin, white scar running down from the middle of his cheek down to his jawline. It gave his face character, though it no longer held the handsome features of an innocent-looking noble. The scar made him look fiercer, manlier.

"Pity I cannot grow a beard to hide this scar." Amrothos said before looking over his shoulder where Faramir, his kin, sat. The Steward's second son looked at him amused.

"Scars will make your popular." Faramir said.

"Hm, and warn the parents to keep their daughters at a distance."

"You sound upset."

"I did not survive each battle carefully guarding my face from marring to get a cut in a tavern brawl."

"You sound vain."

Faramir knew if anything, Amrothos was vain about his refined looks, but lethal when it came to strategy. The Prince was not above using dirty tactics in battle.

"I feel vain." Amrothos gestured at Faramir's beard. "How is it that you are able to grow a beard when your mother was our paternal aunt?"

"You forget my father was not from the Princes of Dol Amroth and therefore with no blood relation to Elves."

"Of all things to inherit from Elves, we inherit the lack of beards from them."

"Well, the Elves can grow beards in very advanced stage of life."

"Your reasoning does nothing to console me."

There was a knock on the door, which was slightly ajar. The door swept open and Legolas entered, with a customary smile upon his face.

"There you are. Your absences were noted in the hall. Prince Imrahil is currently playing a game of chess against Éomer. Your spectatorship is needed."

Catching Amrothos pass a forlorn glance at the mirror, Legolas asked, "Is something amiss?"

"Nay," Amrothos said. "I am merely cursing the shortcomings of Elves."

Catching Legolas' confused look, Faramir tapped at his beard behind Amrothos' back. Comprehension dawned and Legolas laughed merrily.

"I apologize for the traits of my kin. It is simply how we are made. Come! The Hobbits insist upon a song in the all company of Dwarf, Men and Elves… and those descended from the last two."





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