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He thinks he failed us. He went to his death thinking he failed us. Thinking that we thought that he had
failed us.
Boromir, you didn't!
I want to shout it so the world can hear, so loud that even he can. But this
comes too late.
He did a bad thing, a wicked deed, he admitted as much. And repented, not just in word, but in deed.
For no creature of evil would have done as he did.
But we're only men, fallible, untrustworthy, weak. Ask Elrond, ask
any elf who had to see my ancestor wreck everything. He was the strongest of us, and the weakest, the ring sought him out,
and found him fitting for its purpose. He only wanted to protect his people from the darkness, much though I know the ring
would have used him for ill, turned him dark. And I know that from history, but how could he? He was not brought up with that
knowledge, few today are. There are things forgotten that should never have been forgotten.
The ring spoke to
him of Gondor and of the White City, of his brother and his people. Who could resist that?
He didn't fail us. Not truly,
not in the end, not when all is weighed up.
We failed him.
Each and every single one of us. Except maybe the
elf. Mirkwood and Gondor, two lands in more jeopardy than they should be. I curse Isildur again. And myself, and the elves,
and the dwarves and everything else. We should have protected Gondor, not have it protect us. And then the White City would
be in no danger, and then Boromir wouldn't have fallen.
Or perhaps he would, the ring is strong, and we are weak. We
foolish menfolk.
But of all those who failed him, I failed him the most. I was his king. I should have protected him
and Gondor. But I failed him. I hid, pretended not to be who I was, am and ever shall be. None of the others have shirked
their task, they are noblemen all, and all have had the pressures of it on their shoulders. Not I who ran.
Nor did
the Hobbits, they don't shirk. Not these four. Whatever happened they carried on, through it all. I wish I were
as strong as they.
I can hear his voice, telling at me to have pity, and give everyone rest for a while. But now as
then, we are in mortal danger from Orcs and those other creatures. We cannot rest; we must rescue two Hobbits.
For
Merry and Pippin we must continue, because if they too fall, then we will truly have failed him. And I, Aragorn, son of Arathorn,
refuse to fail him further.
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