It would not be the gaze of his own that would worry himself, should any ask, and Boromir had long since felt that anyone had any interest in asking him anything. But now, now Aragorn would pry from him the very secrets of his mind, to turn over that boulder that weighs so heavily within his mind and discover the gold that lay beneath. But what if there was no more gold left, what if it now was rot? Eaten away by time, creed of the elves that look unkindly to men, shun of the dwarves that horde the right to mine where they please. And what is left to men but peril in a vast canvas of open field where the enemy lay waiting, ready to splotch the ground with the blood of his people!
A grave portrait rests uneasily within his mind and Boromir looks down from the moving light above them.
"But yet, we still depend on darkness to cover us. We still move, chasing the shadow so that our enemy may be blind to us." He glanced at Aragorn and softly shook his head. "But they are not blind, and I cannot rest." He quickly included.
no subject
A grave portrait rests uneasily within his mind and Boromir looks down from the moving light above them.
"But yet, we still depend on darkness to cover us. We still move, chasing the shadow so that our enemy may be blind to us." He glanced at Aragorn and softly shook his head. "But they are not blind, and I cannot rest." He quickly included.