Swirling wisps of gold and sable float upon the crystal crispness of a pool no longer touched by war. Elven queen and lady warrior laugh together like maids, catching liquid silver in cupped hands. They splash and play like the children they will someday carry in blossoming bellies.
On the pool’s grassy bank, King and Steward lounge with adoring eyes, wondering aloud why they both should be so blessed.
“Could there be two luckier men in all of Middle Earth than we are, Faramir?”
Shaking his head with certainty, the young Steward breathes: “No my lord Elessar, I think not.”