He had asked everyone he met for tales of her. What brought her to Gondor? What family had she left behind? Why didn't she smile?
Hwithlaefdige her kinsmen named her, as frozen as winter's last frost, but Faramir disagreed. She was fire, summer's lightning. That thought frightened him. Fire destroyed, engulfed, left only blackened stone and charred flesh. He was but a man; he could not stand against, or with, the flame. How could he even approach her, this lady as white and pure as the Star-kindler herself?
Yet they walked together, and she spoke of her brother. A smile broke free before she could smother it, and her cheeks reddened. Her voice lightened, a blue spark shone through her icy eyes, and she laughed in spite of herself.
Ai, hlaefdige min! Faramir could not hide his smile. If his lady could smile, could she be mere man as well?