"If I should return, think better of me, father."

The morning of Faramir's last day on Middle-earth dawned fair and bright. Though his heart was heavy and the knowledge that had been given was a great burden to bear, he could think of no finer day on which to say his goodbyes.

He had woken to find Minas Tirth bathed in the warm oranges and reds of the sunrise, turning the white spires and towers of the citadel into pillars of brightest gold. For a moment, all he could think of was how much this city - the city of his birth and the only home he had ever known - meant to him and how he would give anything to protect it from the enemies that surrounded it.

( A moment later, he realised that he would soon sacrifice his very life for the sake of Minas Tirith. Very soon. )