A/N A plotbunny attacked me earlier, and I just had to write this drabble. It's the first time I've written something in one sitting.
~o~
The woman stood on the walls of Minas Tirith, belly round with child, watching, waiting for the soldiers to return. Her husband was among them, summoned to reclaim Osgiliath.
I'll wear a yellow sash, he said, so you can watch me as I return.
I won't be able to see it, she replied.
You have the eyes of an archer, he answered. You'll see me.
Off in the distance, riders raced back towards the city, fleeing from Osgiliath, with Nazgul swooping down from above.
No matter how much she looked, there wasn't a speck of yellow. Only red, red, red.