Later, a statue is put up, remembering his victory at the Fords. And there are other reminders too, less formal – his son’s laugh, the shrug of his shoulders.
As the years go on, the thread is not lost, but picked up – part of the weft of the fuller tapestry of his life. Grief is not eternal, and beyond this world there is more than memory.
Written as a birthday present for Annmarwalk, who asked for something about both or either of Denethor's magnificent sons
11th November 2004
11th November 2004