A Garden of Faramir Drabbles

The new Captain of the Ithilien Rangers rolled onto his back and peered up at the cave roof. No one had warned him that Henneth Annun was so noisy. He supposed he would eventually grow used to the waterfall’s constant roar, even find it comforting, but just now he wished there was some way to make the blasted thing stop.

If I accidentally shoot one of my own men in battle tomorrow, I doubt Father will accept tiredness as an excuse. This reflection made sleep all the more impossible.

Morgoth take the waterfall, Faramir thought peevishly. I want to sleep.