A/N: This is a short one-shot which I wrote as a prologue to the much longer tale I am currently in the midst of writing. This is written from Faramir's PoV, in the Houses of Healing as the Host of the West marches out to meet Sauron's forces.
She was so silent, so cold, so sad standing in the window, staring out over the empty and quiet city. The icy air blew through the window, its icy fingers played with her blonde locks. She was so frail, so small: an innocent lost in the middle of the most terrible war of all times. All of her family, I had been told, with the exception of her brother had been killed in this unjust conflict.
Each day, she would go up from her quarters and stand in the balcony of the Houses of Healing. And each day, she would do nothing but stare towards the black land, where the remaining hope for Middle Earth struggled to save the world.
I pitied her. I knew what she felt—the hopeless and suffocating sense of despair and loss. And I longed to comfort her, wrap my arms around her and hold her tight, just as my brother had done for me so many years ago.
The day that the able-bodied men followed the man from the north, who would become their king, to battle: the last great battle of our time. I rose early, ready to join my lord as his steward, standing on his right, ready to serve in whatever I could do. But he refused my services and I was left alone in the Houses of Healing.
But not quite alone. For there she stood, silently suffering her own burdens and sorrows. I do not know what made me go to her—if it was the love my brother held for her, or the love I hold for people, or something else. Regardless, however, of my reason, I found myself next to her, staring at the broken land around us.
We stood in silence for a long time, then she spoke. "The city has fallen silent." She turned to face me, despair in her face. "There is no warmth left in the sun. It grows so cold." She looked back over the city, a hopeless despair clouding her face. I could not stand to see her so desolate. Though I could not find in my heart hope for myself, I somehow managed to find strength and courage for her.
I looked down at her, giving her a small smile. She was so fair, so beautiful. She deserved a reason for hope. "It's just the damp of the first spring rain. I do not believe this darkness will endure," I told her. She smiled up at me, and I felt her hand slip into mine. I held it, just as Boromir had held mine when I was but a small child, frightened by the darkness of the night. She leaned her head on my shoulder.
Not sure quite what to do, I let it remain there. For now, I would hold her and comfort her. But I would not love her.