Work Text:
Minas Tirith’s Library
Year 3005, Third Age
Together, in friendship and love. So they both lived, delighting in their own devices, and feared no assault, nor wrath, nor any end of their wickedness. Together, as befitting sacred hearts.
Such would be their fate were it within my power to bestow upon them.
They certainly evoke an arresting tableau –their undisguised familiarity an enviable sight to behold. One, a devastating beauty comprised of elven grace and mannish ruggedness, known for his ferocity in battle and staunch loyalty. The other, my dedicated student, a bonny lad with a genuine quality, reputed for his bewitching smile and quiet demeanour. Though beyond their well-favoured looks and patent allure lie two noble spirits. Be they arguing over various notions and doctrines or casually lounging in affectionate banter, their camaraderie is a singular affair. Second sons. Scholars. Peers of their realms. They share many parallels. They could share so much more.
But beneath the virtuous cloak of one’s unfailing honour and through the haze of the other’s battered innocence, ‘tis unlikely that the threshold to a conjoined existence will ever be traversed.
Even so, never counter an old pilgrim’s designs.
I yet hold on to hope.