‘And seated a little apart was a tall man with a fair and noble face, dark-haired and grey-eyed, proud and stern of glance. He was cloaked and booted as if for a journey on horseback; and indeed though his garments were rich, and his cloak was lined with fur, they were stained with long travel.’ – The Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring.
Son of Gondor, by Catherine Chmiel
Boromir: One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep.
*Meanwhile, ages previously*
Luthien: What if…I just put everyone in Angband to sleep…
When you live with elves
Boromir: We can’t let Frodo carry the ring. He is literally the least qualified person in the entire Fellowship!
Elrond: *lets Merry and Pippin join*
Boromir: Wait nevermind actually Frodo’s looking pretty good.
“Remember today, little brother…”
For the Shire! Hold him! Hold him down!
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