𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

                                    

                                          
Deora found herself treading onto the royal grounds far more often than she would've ever dared to before. Her new friend Faramir's encouraging nature had more than expeditiously quelled any reservations that might've stopped her before.
	If they were not watching the soldiers train together, they were sprinting across the grounds themselves, or through the city streets, completely lost in their own imaginations. They would tear down the roads, or across the fields, pretending that they were heroes on a quest, or fighting off fearsome enemies, all the while their laughter traveled up into the air like plumes of smoke from a pyre.
	"Eyes to the sky!" Faramir called out with mock sincerity. "The mighty dragon is targeting the city walls!"
	Deora smiled like a wildling, twirling the branch in her hand that she was using in place of a sword. She sprinted across the grass of one of the higher levels of Minas Tirith.
	"Deora, the White Knight of Gondor stabs the beast in the stomach with her glowing blade!" she said, thrusting her branch upwards into nothing.
	Faramir cackled giddily. 
	"But, oh no! The body is falling out of the sky! It is about to crush the noble Deora!" he shouted, turning on his heels to begin sprinting directly towards her. "Don't worry, I will save you!"
	Deora spun towards him, eyes quickly growing wide in realization. 
	"Faramir, don't you da- AH!"
	The young boy had all but barreled straight into her, sending them both crashing to the ground beneath them. Laughing loudly, they rolled through the grass several times at the mercy of their momentum, before eventually sliding to a stop.
	Deora's dark hair flew past their face for a moment due to their sudden halt in motion. Underneath her, Faramir continued to laugh wildly. It was only when the two of them were finally able to control their laughter that the boy reopened his eyes to look back up at her.
	"Did I save you?"
	Deora scoffed, shaking her head.
	"I didn't need saving." she replied. "Now we're both just rolling about in the dirt."
	Faramir giggled again, leaning his head back down to rest in the grass. Deora pushed herself up and off of him, dusting her trousers a few times before extending a hand down to her friend. He took it instantly, allowing her to pull him back up and onto his feet.
	Suddenly, from far off to their right, someone had called out Faramir's name.
	The two children turned their heads in sync towards the sound, watching as an older boy jogged over to their position on the pitch. He had golden-blond hair that fell just below his ears, and wore a vest depicting the White Tree of the Steward's House. Much similar to the one that Faramir was wearing, but notably less faded.
	He came to a stop directly in front of them, a wide smile on his face.
	"I was sent to come drag you back to your lessons." he said when he arrived, speaking directly to Faramir.
	The younger boy raised an eyebrow in response.
	"And are you going to?"
	The elders smile only appeared to grow.
	"You know well enough what my answer is, brother."
	When Faramir finally smiled in response, it was only then that the newcomer appeared to notice that there was a second body standing there with them.
	"And who might this be?" he asked, gesturing towards Deora. Who, in turn, was staring back at him with as blank an expression as she could muster.
	"This is my friend, Deora." Faramir introduced.