by Alasse Merenrel-(TV)
January 4, 2007


Excerpt from the travel journals of Boromir, son of Denethor II
Year 3018 of the Third Age


I write in my room to the flickering candle, and the flickering beams of the setting sun.  

That almost sounds poetic, like something Faramir would say. My bookish little brother insists that I keep a record of my journey, especially of my stay here at Rivendell. I am endeavoring to write as much and as often as I can—though, knowing how Faramir writes in his diaries, mine will seem short and scant. How he has the endurance to jot away for hours after a long, hard ride is beyond me. In more ways than one.

So. I am among the Elves. I arrived last night, or early morning you could say. Anyhow, these Elves are as ethereal as Faramir said. Very courteous and thoughtful, though a bit haughty. They seem to take an assurance in their immortality. Their gait is confident, their minds as sharp as their eyes. Their light-footedness and exceptional hearing would make them formidable foes. All have the appearance of highly seasoned warriors—and of that I have no doubt, since they have had centuries to perfect their ripostes.

As I walked through the gates I encountered a party of elves just leaving for the Grey Havens. The Lord Elrond told me that they were going to Valinor. “They hear the calling of the sea,” said he. “They will linger here no more.”  

I must apologize, Faramir. I know you admire the Elves, but I still stick by what I said in that discussion we had while in Osgiliath. The party of Elves fleeing to the Havens only strengthened my views. The Elves are cowards.

Yes, I know of their noble deeds and their resilience in battle. When it comes to it, the Elves are just as brave as the bravest of Men. But just think, my brother. The Elves can run, escape across the ocean to another world. They can at any moment fling down the chains of Arda Marred, and leave these shores. Men, Men must stay here. Men cannot run. They are bound to Middle-earth, bound to imperfection, failings, death. They must face it all. They have no choice. They are fated to an end.

And that is why we stand. Because here and now is all we have and all we are fated for and we must defend every moment of it, before Death swoops in and tears us from all we hold dear. We must cherish happiness before Death robs us of it, as Father said when we lost Mother, may her soul find peace.  

I pray that as I write you are vigilant in defending Gondor from the Enemy, protecting our happiness and that of our people from the Shadow of Death that ever lurks in the East. Perhaps one day we may vanquish that Shadow, whose skulking stain caused our dear mother’s untimely passing, and watch it evaporate from the horizon along with all our cares and pain.

Death. We Men must face Death. And we will face it bravely and with courage.  

Especially since the Elves will not.