" 'To me it seemed exceedingly strange,' said Boromir. 'Maybe it was only a test....' But what he thought that the Lady had offered him Boromir did not tell."
--The Fellowship of the Ring, pg 349
How could I begin to tell what I saw in my mind's eye? I do not understand it all myself.
No. No, that is a lie.
I understood what I saw. I understood, and I craved what the Lady showed, may I be forgiven.
This is why I do not trust this lady. They speak of the Mirror of Galadriel, and they say it is a magical fountain in which one can see the future. But I say the mirror is a fragment of ice, a long cold sliver that stabs into the center of your being. The mirror of Galadriel is her eyes, which reflect back to you the darkest corners of your soul, so base you recoil and yet so achingly familiar as a lover's illicit touch.
Why did I chose that metaphor?
I saw myself with the Ring upon my finger, leading the armies of Gondor and Rohan and all the free peoples into battle at the gates of Mordor. I saw us defeating the shadow that has held sway over all my life, I saw the lands of Gondor safe and the people rejoicing, and it seemed that I had the power to prevent the death of the many good men that would fall in such a battle, or even to bring back good men and true, my friends, whom I have lost over the years. I saw us riding triumphant through the gates of the White City, the sunlight gleaming and the people calling my name.
All this I was prepared to see, and prepared to resist. Foolish, vain, Boromir. I know what some of our company think of me, that I seek only for glory. And thus it was this that I had fortified myself to resist. Up to this point I remained steadfast. But the Lady's vision did not end.
I saw myself ride up to the Citadel and the White Tree, and he was waiting there for me. His hair and his raiment were golden, and his smile was brighter than the sun. He ran to me as I dismounted, as he used to do as a little boy. But there was nothing of a child about him.
I saw myself as a living barrier between him and all those who could bring him harm. In my dream I saw to it that his gentle soul was not forced into the mold of war that he so hated, but was left to gently blossom of its own accord. It seemed to me that days passed in the vision. I would meet with ambassadors, all proclaiming their loyalty to Boromir and Gondor, while he would sit amongst the flowers and read the poetry he delighted in. I would come out to him and he would sing songs he had written. I easily deflected the cruel barbs and subtle slights that have so blighted his growth. He let me hide him and care for him as he had never done since we were very young together; and none who could harm him were allowed within our sight.
In my vision, the Ring handed to me the one power that I have sought most of all. Not the power to save Gondor, or to be a King, as some would have you believe. But the power to protect him. This is all I crave.
Yet it is not all; and I hate the Lady for showing me the vileness of my heart.
I saw him hold my hands as we sat together in beautiful gardens; I saw him slip his arm through mine as we walked through our city. I saw myself holding his face in my hands as I kissed him, and I heard his murmur of delight. I pressed along the length of his body and did things to him with my tongue, and I heard him gasp in pleasure so acute in was almost pain. It was my name he moaned again and again as he writhed in sinful ways against me. In the dream he twined his arms around my neck and whispered that he would never love anyone but me. I held his body closely, proudly against mine in full daylight, in view of everyone. And who would gainsay me? I, Boromir, the Savior of Gondor, bearer of the Ring of Power. Who would say that it was wrong to love my brother in such a way? To kiss his lips, to hear his sudden intake of breath when I touch him there, to see myself wringing cries of pleasure from his throat in the night. Every kiss, every caress, every whisper was allowed, and he was mine in a way that he can never be. In my dream he was content to be my lover, and I could be all he needed.
I have dreamed this before, I recognize this now. What the Lady showed me was not some invention of her own mind meant to shame me. I have had these dreams in the night and banished them from my thought upon waking, so completely that I forget they ever existed. Now the Mirror of Galadriel has pierced me and I have nowhere to hide. Faramir. I cannot face you again. I cannot see your noble face and know that I have sinned with you in my heart. You will know that something is changed, and you will persist in asking me what is wrong--dearest Faramir, you have always cared for your foolish, your stronger eldest brother, who is now proved weaker than thee. But I cannot tell thee. I will never speak of what the Lady has shown me here; I shall not even whisper your name to the stars in the night. I will take this sin to my grave.