I wrote this in accounting class. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings.

Scrutiny

I look deep into the blue eyes. A fear lay in them. A deep, depressing fear. The kind of fear that shows surrender. Frodo's almost given up.

I consider what could be. My father would favour me above the legend of Boromir: the first born, the next steward of Gondor. Even if he's dead. I don't think father would ever comprehend me becoming steward.

I would be more powerful than any man in Gondor, than any man in all Middle-earth. I would have all beings, all creatures of this world bow down to me. I would have a women in my bed every day of the week, and never be lonely again.

I would live longer than any of the past kings of Gondor. I would never die as long as I had the ring.

All this, and more, would be granted to me if I reach out my hand and take it for myself. All the possibilities ran through my mind. My chest held high, my eyes gleaming, a craze, a need, went through me. I wanted it.

But I would be hated.

I would be hunted.

I would lose control.

Perhaps I could destroy it. Like a man of Gondor should, I would act bravely, overcome impossible obstacles and be a man of legends.

My breath caught in my throat. This was the kind of rash thinking Boromir would use. A man of action, not a man of thought. This ring had been given to this stout hobbit. I doubt he killed an orc to get it. That was Boromir's job.

I noticed Frodo had started to sweat.

What had the hobbit said? He was in a group of nine, but had lost one. He seemed genuinely surprised Boromir had died. Why were they together? This hobbit seemed of little importance – he wasn't a ruler or a general. Why then, would a son of a steward – perhaps the next steward – be willing to travel with such company?

Because of the ring. Boromir, may the Eru bless him, was a man used to getting what he wanted. Memories came flooding back to me. Memories of Boromir and I fighting over toys, food and women. Boromir had probably wanted it for himself. Certainly, with the ring's hold over people, Boromir, he was helpless against it.

I laughed, and took the sword away from the ring. "Good night, Frodo and Samwise of the Shire. I will leave you now."

Faramir heaved a sigh and walked back. The one ring was at hand, and the end of Middle-earth was near.