Boromir Writes Home: Letters to Faramir

by NorthStar

II

Rivendell, October 3018 (Later)

Dear Brother

You won’t believe this! The Ring of Power is here, in Rivendell! I saw it, at the Council this morning…a band of gold, thick, heavy…beautiful, in fact.

A hobbit had it, of all things. Just a little chap, came up maybe to my belt buckle; curly headed, with big blue eyes. Kind of cute, actually. Bet he does OK with the little lasses in Holetown, or wherever he’s from. He came forward when Lord Elrond called him, and took the ring from his pocket and laid it down on the table. Eru, it’s a beauty! The he went back to his seat beside Gandalf the Gray (the wizard I mentioned last night) and sat down, looking kind of relieved. Poor little guy.

So there it sat, just gleaming. I got up from my seat then. I had to, Faramir. I don’t know why, but I had to go and take a closer look at it. And before I knew it, I had reached out for it…. Then all heck broke loose. Elrond yelled at me to sit down, the sky grew black and Gandalf started muttering in a language I had never heard before. It was not a good scene.

I sat back down, feeling embarrassed. Eru knows, I didn’t plan on starting a riot or anything. It just seemed to…call to me. I know I sound crazy, brother, but I could swear I heard it speak to me! Maybe there was something in that wine last night, I don’t know.

Anyway, to continue: after my little incident, everyone calmed down a bit, and Elrond starting talking about how this was the one ring and needed to be destroyed. I must admit, I tuned out at this point and took a look around at who else was there. Elrond, of course, and some other elves, obviously secretaries of some sort hovering around behind his chair; Gandalf, the old wizard – he looked like he had had some wine last night as well, red-rimmed eyes and such. Actually looks a bit like Dad did before he shaved his beard – but I digress.

Then Frodo Baggins, the little hobbit guy I mentioned. I don’t remember ever reading about hobbits in school, do you? Well, apparently he carried the ring from wherever its been hidden all these years, all the way to Rivendell. Along the way, he got chased by Black Riders (I DO remember them, nasty pieces of business that they are – don’t envy him that at all) and got stabbed on Weathertop. He has three little friends who were with him, one who I think I saw this morning, digging in the garden, but apparently they are all right. Then Book-Boy took him into the wilds (more on HIM later) and then his girlfriend, Arwen (the looker I saw last night) came by, found them, and brought Frodo to Rivendell. Along the way she got caught at Bruinen and Daddy Elrond and Gandalf had to cast a spell on the waters and make them sweep the Riders away. Nice piece of work, that. Must be nice to wave a wand and have bad things disappear, huh?

Next to him were more elves, but they weren’t locals. Looked a bit surly, actually, but they probably didn’t like their seats. Their name cards put ‘em square next to some dwarves. Those characters wouldn’t let go of their axes for any reason. Pretty up front about it too. I heard a scuffle with the door marshal when they came through, something along the lines of “you’ll have to pry my axe out of my cold dead hands before I’ll give it up to some pointy-ear.” Actually, I rather like one of them, Gimli, I think his name is. Maybe I’ll see if he’d like to have a few ales later.

Speaking of Gimli – he caused the next ruckus at the council. When Frodo put the ring on the table and Elrond made his little destruction speech (I must admit, I winced when he said that), Gimli decided to get the destroying part over with quickly and smashed the ring with his axe. Broke it right in half! (The axe, not the ring.) Knocked Gimli right on his butt. He’s not much taller than the table, but tough, a real no-nonsense kind of guy.

Now, for the interesting part.

I spoke up and asked why the ring has to be destroyed; why can’t we use it against the Enemy? BB spoke up and said we couldn’t wield it, only the Dark Lord could, yada, yada, yada. I was pretty sick and tired of hearing that by that time, so I got a little hot under the collar and asked what a Ranger knows of such things. One of the elves stood up, all hoity-toity and said (and I quote) “This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance.” I was stunned. I said, “So this is Isildur’s heir” (explains last night; remember the-sword-that-sliced-off-Sauron’s-finger thing?) Then Hoity jumps back in and says “and heir to the throne of Gondor.” Then BB kind of waved at him and said something that sounded like “have a dad, or half-a-dead leg-o-lamb.” Since I doubt he was describing dinner, I suspect it was elvish for “shut up and sit down,” but languages were never my best subjects.

So Hoity sat down and scowled at me, and BB looked uncomfortable and kind of squirmed in his seat. Since I couldn’t just stand there and let that kind of comment go by, I retorted “Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no King.” Glad Dad made me memorize that before I left Minas Tirith; it sure shut the group up in a hurry.

The rest of the council passed in kind of a blur, except for a brief scuffle between the elves and the dwarves. I was watching BB and I know he was watching me, like a couple of hunting dogs circling each other. I hate to admit it, Far, but he actually looked kind of kingly. Blast. This is all I need. Don’t tell Dad, he’ll have a conniption and it’ll cause more trouble than its worth. I’m going to wait and see what kind of character he turns out to be, seeing as how we’ll be spending a fair amount of time together.



That’s my last piece of news for today. Since apparently the ring has to be destroyed, and the only way to do so is to go TO Mordor and Mount Doom, toss it in the fire and break its spell…I’m going on a quest. Well, not just me. Me; Sir King; the wizard; Gimli and Hoity – (this oughta be fun) and the little guy, Frodo is going to continue to carry the ring. I don’t think that’s a particularly great idea, but I didn’t say anything; I’m already in Dutch with Elrond for messing up his grand moment, so I’m laying low for the time being. Oh, and Frodo’s three little friends are coming along. The rotund one I saw in the garden is Sam, and the other ones are Pippin and Merry. Once I saw them, I recognized them as the two mini chaps I saw peering through Arwen’s keyhole this morning. And never mind how I knew which one was hers.

Elrond being Elrond, he couldn’t help but make a pontifical statement when we’d all pledged allegiance. “Nine companions; you shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!” Catchy, no? I can see the T-shirts already.

Well, that’s about it for now. My hand is cramping up, and I need a drink badly. Time to find Gimli and see if he’s up for tossing back a few brews. I’ll keep you posted as events warrant.

Your loving Brother

Boromir

P.S. By the way, I found out that Hoity’s name is Legolas. Leg-o-lass. And speaking of which, I’m going to go find one. Maybe Arwen has a sister…