Lotr 🆕

Boromir smiled — a terrible, beautiful smile — and settled his shield upon his arm.

He had stood here for three days without sleeping. Not from courage alone, but from a growing dread that tasted like copper on his tongue. Boromir smiled — a terrible, beautiful smile —

"You should rest, Captain," said a voice from the stair. Madril, his second, climbed up with a torch that fought a losing battle against the fog. "The men speak of a figure on the far shore. A hooded shape that does not move." Boromir smiled — a terrible

The night answered with a thousand pairs of eyes. Boromir smiled — a terrible, beautiful smile —

And the last watch began.

The younger man hesitated. "I believe in orcs, and in the treachery of Haradrim. I believe in walls and spear-points."