I must not let their childlike size and manner put
me off my guard, nor let Frodo see my pity - he is
quite clever enough to use such an opening I think.

He lied to me about the third member of their
party, but badly like one unaccustomed to lying. I
didn't like his reaction to Boromir's name either -
something is very wrong there I deem. How did my
brother die? Does Frodo know? Is that one of the
things he's hiding from me, and if so why?

And then there's that other name; Aragorn son of
Arathorn, the phantasmal heir who's haunted Gondor all
of my life. Why must this will'o the wisp surface now
when my country is fighting for her life and any
division might mean her fall - and the world of Men
with her?

Even if his claim were proven, were he to show
himself a veritable Elendil reborn, my father would
never accept him. We are Stewards of the House of
Anarion, Isildur's Heirs have naught to do with
Gondor. Whatever this Aragorn's intentions he can do
nothing but harm.

Yet - Boromir allied himself with this cipher, he
joined this odd company with its Dwarf and Elf and
Halflings rather than returning to Minas Tirith with
the answer to our riddling dream. Why? He must have
had a good - nay overwhelming - reason for doing so.

What was the business of this company, sent out by
Elrond Half-Elven and led by Mithrandir? Frodo
adamantly refuses to say. I cannot believe any evil of
Mithrandir but he is not here to answer for himself.
Like Boromir he is dead, fallen in Moria.

How did my brother die? There were Orc arms piled
at his feet and his face was calm and at peace, more
beautiful than I have ever seen it. The strangeness of
his passing in that Elven boat, filled with light as
with clear water, haunts me. Where was it taking him
and why?

I do not trust Frodo, a darkness clings to him. I
do not think he is evil in himself but a great evil
overshadows him - I can feel it. What brings two
Halflings out of the far north to wander the marches
of Mordor? I cannot let them go until I know.

They are so small, so very much afraid though they
hide it well. Halflings are a brave folk, whatever
else they may be. I asked Frodo for his parole and he
gave it. He will keep his word I think, lies and
deception do not come naturally to him for all he is
trying to use them now against me. I gave them back
their swords deeming them too small and unskilled to
pose much of a threat even if they should break their
word.

Frodo's is of Elven make, the runes graven on its
blade proclaim it was forged three Ages ago in
Gondolin before its fall. His possession of such a
weapon is a point in his favor. According to legend
Elven blades will not suffer a sullied hand to wield
them.

"Who gave you so ancient and puissant a weapon to
bear, Frodo Baggins of the Shire?" I asked as I handed
it to him.

"My Uncle, who found it in a Troll's hoard while on
a journey with Mithrandir long ago." he answered.

Another truth. This long friendship with Mithrandir
too speaks in his favor. I turned to the gardener; a
stout, fairhaired little fellow very unlike his frail,
almost ethereal master. His blade is an eket, a
Numenorean short sword, made long ago by our Northern
kin. "And who gave you your weapon, Master Gardener?"

"Strider - Aragorn I should say." he answered
shortly.

"He gave swords to all of us to defend ourselves
against the dangers of the road." His master put in
quickly.

"You are his leige men then?" I asked, mocking
slightly.

Samwise looked annoyed but Frodo merely shook his
head. "He is our friend, and was our guide and
protector on the early stages of our journey." lifted
blue eyes to gaze levelly into my own. "But long ago
Hobbits swore allegiance to the Kings of the North in
return for our land. So in a sense we are his lieges,
as are you."

"We know nothing of this Aragorn in Gondor." I
answered, more sharply than I would have wished. "He
has never made any claim on us."

"I know. But Boromir gave him his allegiance
unasked. He wanted Aragorn to go with him to Minas
Tirith."

Can I believe this, that Boromir would accept the
pretender as his King? That he would take him to the
White City to confront our father and divide our
councils now, when all our fortunes hang in the
balance? My knowledge of my brother says no, this
cannot be true. Yet I could detect no lie in Frodo's
face or voice. Can it indeed be so?

Oh Boromir what thoughts and plans were in your
heart these months we have been parted? What
moved you to make the choices you did, and what led
you to your death and that eerie apotheosis?

A Man touches my shoulder, starting me out of my
thoughts. Bends to whisper in my ear. "Captain,
there's a creature, some kind of sneaking Orc, swiming
in the pool."

"Give him to me." I said. My Man gave me a mildly
startled look but obediently handed over the prisoner.

Frodo Baggins' child sized body lay tense in my
arms cloak wrapped tightly, defensively, around him. I
spoke quietly so as not to be overheard by the Men
before and behind us on the steep path.

"Forgive me, Frodo, it was cruel of me to frighten
you so, but I was angry that you should try to keep a
matter of such moment from me."

"What else could I do? I knew you'd stop me if you
could." he answered, voice slightly muffled by his
blindfold.

"Can you blame me, Frodo? It's madness to take the
Ring into Mordor within very Sauron's grasp. You can't
possibly succeed."

"I know!" he cried despairingly. "But I must try, I
am bound by the command of the Council."

"And you say Boromir agreed to this?" That I found
difficult to believe.

"Yes. He spoke against it, knowing the dangers as
he did, but he accepted the decision of the Council
and swore to see it done. Elrond Half-Elven said it
was our only hope and Gandalf - Mithrandir - agreed
with him."

Elrond is a name out of legend, sung in old tales
and written in ancient parchments, but Mithrandir I
have known since I was a boy. Him I trust whatever my
father may say. If *he* thought this was the only way
then perhaps it is.

Yet surely he never intended to send two little
Halflings alone into Mordor guided by a creature whose
mind is as twisted as his body. Surely he'd meant to
be with them, to guide them, and with him gone...I
could feel the Halfling shaking as he fought back
tears. "Mithrandir was dear to you."

"I've known him all my life." he choked in answer.

"I too." I said quietly.

"It was my fault!" He burst out suddenly. "I
decided to go through Moria. But we couldn't pass over
the mountains and Gimli thought there would be Dwarves
there to help us - and I didn't know, Gandalf didn't
warn me!"

"Frodo, if Mithrandir gave the decision to you he
must have believed you'd make the right one. If he
didn't warn you perhaps it was because there were no
better choices." We reached level ground and I put the
Halfling on his feet guiding him with a hand on his
shoulder.

"Boromir told me I had burdens enough without
carrying Gandalf's death as well." he said.

Yes, that sounded like something my brother would
say.

"He saved my life at least twice, and after Gandalf
fell he tried to comfort me. Truly, Faramir, I was his
friend - and he mine."

"But something went wrong between you before you
parted." I said, knowing it was true.

"Yes...those last days there was much disagreement
in the company, much debate about our best road.
Boromir wanted to go to Minas Tirith to rest and
resupply ourselves before trying to enter Mordor
through the Morgul Vale."

I shuddered. Boromir would have had to have been
mad to think such a plan could work.

"But Aragorn was against it, he wanted to enter
from the north through Emyn Muil and the Dead Marshes
to the Black Gate."

So Isildur's Heir hadn't wanted to come to the
White City of his fathers. Perhaps he had feared the
divisions he might cause. I began to think the better
of him. "And which course did you favor, Frodo?"

"I - I wasn't sure. I was afraid of making the
wrong choice as I had in Moria."

"So you and my brother quarreled."

"Yes."

No. He was lying again, or rather holding something
back. "And in the end you decided to leave your
companions and strike out alone with just your
gardener to aid you."

"It seemed the best thing to do. The others were
Princes and Lords in their own countries, they would
be needed at home. I didn't want to waste any more
lives."

"With this Gollum as your guide?"

Very quietly. "I trust him."

"Frodo, he is mad surely you realize that?"

In the same quiet voice. "The Ring has ruined him.
It is ruining me. It will destroy us all if we do not
destroy it first."

I could feel his pain, his desperation. "Frodo, you
cannot destroy it. You, and your Sam, and Gollum too
would die in the attempt and the Ring would fall into
Sauron's hands. You must see I cannot permit that to
happen!" I stopped him, bent to remove the blindfold.
"The Ring will be safe in Minas Tirith, and it will
save Gondor."

Those wide blue eyes, uncovered, stared up into
mine. "How can you believe that? You've felt the
Ring's power, its malice!"

Yes, I had felt it like a maddening fever in the
blood urging me to thrust my sword into the Halfling's
heart and take the Ring for my own. But I had mastered
it - the temptation could be resisted. Yet the
knowledge that we held the Ring, even lying unused in
our deepest vault, would give Sauron pause make him
draw back his hand for fear of provoking a terrible
retaliation.

"When all the choices are bad one can only choose
the one that holds the least peril." I answered. "And
I have done so."

Haven't I?

I watch the Little Ones slip away through the trees
and feel at peace with myself for the first time since
I discovered what they carry.

My father will be furious, perhaps even angry
enough to invoke the exteme penalty, but I know I have
done the right thing. Even if my worst fears prove
true and the Ring comes again into the hands of its
master I will still have made the right choice.

If Gondor were falling into ruin and only I could
save her by wielding the One Ring I would not do it.
Better far to die clean than live to become that which
we hate and have fought all these long years. There
are some perils a Man can only flee.

I turn at last to make my slow way back through the
tunnels to my Men. Ah, Boromir! my brother must have
fooled himself into believing he'd mastered the Ring's
power - as I did - whilst all the time it was slowly
mastering him. Undermining his strength and twisting
him to its will. Sam spoke true, the Ring drove my
brother to madness. He never would have done such a
thing in his right mind.

And yet - somehow he freed himself of its hold
before the end and died clean of taint. The look of
peace on his face as he lay lapped in light tells me
as much. No doubt that is why the vision of his
passing was vouchsafed to me - that I might know this
for my comfort. May the Valar recieve his spirit!

Frodo fears for his companions and kin, and rightly
for they must have been in mortal danger for Boromir
to blow the Horn of Gondor. Yet it was not Orcs who
arrayed him for burial, some of the Company yet live I
deem. And if Aragorn son of Arathorn is among them
what will he do now, where will he go?

Boromir wanted to bring him to Minas Tirith - was
he wrong also in this? Just yesterday I would have
said yes, now I wonder. The Kings of Old had great
power. Was it not Isildur who vanquished Sauron at the
end of the Second Age? even if his fault meant that
defeat was not final. Yet who am I to censure him
having come so close to committing the same folly? I
have now a grim respect for the power of the Ring, and
naught but sympathy for any Man caught in its toils.

Gondor fails as does the rule of the Stewards. My
brother, proud and independent as he was, looked to
Isildur's Heir to save us. But can he? The risk is
very great - this is not the time for another
Kin-Strife! Yet is not sending the One Ring into
Mordor in the hands of a frail Halfling an even
greater risk?

The time for cautious half measures has passed. In
these dark and desperate days we must wager all on the
long chance. That was ever Boromir's way not mine, how
many times have I chided him for recklessness and been
laughed at for my pains? Yet it could be his rashness
will prove wiser in the end than my much vaunted
prudence.