Boromir had shown up just in time, and Faramir was grateful for his brother's steadying presence.
They stood at the City gates, waving and watching until the carriage rolled out of sight, and Faramir blinked back the tears he'd steadfastly refused to shed all morning.
Boromir's arm squeezed his shoulder. "There will be letters," he said comfortingly.
Faramir nodded, not trusting himself to speak quite yet.
Boromir sighed, and Faramir knew his brother was not as indifferent as he seemed, for when Boromir spoke, his voice was not quite steady. "Twelve is old enough to get on without a nanny."