By Gen X
Boromir, the son of Denethor, was not a common man. As heir to the throne of Minas Tinith (a daunting title, to say the least) there were many words spoken that could describe him and all were favorable.
Valiant. Proud. Strong. Brave. These were poetic words that wove such cloth that fashioned the ilk heroes were made from. Yet, like all legends, there is always more than the eye can see.
His betrayl came as no surprise, for I had oft suspected that something of the like might happen. But like he, I was plauged by the same blinding optimism. We shared the same hope that his will was greater than that tiny piece of gold. And that is how his ego blinded him, and convinced him it would be.
True, that he was a skilled fighter. He was accomplished adn capable not only in battle but the ways of the world. He had seen his share of hardship and should have known the importance of our journey, but his motivation never lay in the ring. Nor did it lay in our quest to destroy it.
His desire lay elsewhere with his land and his people and his sight would not be moved from the narrow view to a broader undertsanding. So firm was his goal, and so stubborn was he, that the ring blinded him to the truth. It corrupted him. It tempted him. And it doomed him.
He passed from this earth with the full weight of understanding of his actions clear in his mind. The rush of coherency that broken the captive spell was jarred into life by thick wooden barbs, the delivers of his pain and his release.
In his final moments, he had defeated the ring. Although he had not passed up its allure. Nor had he denied temptation. He had redeemed himself by breaking its power at the last moment. He spoke the truth, and was free.
I kept my own council. Partly for my own sake. I told my companions naught in trepidation that they share the same doubts that whirl around myself. Because, despite all his good intentions, his grace, and his titles, Boromir was only a man.
Perhaps, it was for the better, that he did fall and the ring was ferryed far from my reach.
The blood of Isildur flows through me. And I cannot be certain that I would not have fallen down the same path as either.
After all, I am only a man.
fin