Chapter Ten

Bilbo was gone again when Boromir woke next. Frodo was already up and preparing a healing drink that he brought to the man.

“This will help with the pain,” the Ring-bearer said. “You still have a long road ahead of you, but I certain that you will heal and be whole again.”

Frodo raised Boromir’s head with one hand and brought the cup to the man’s lips with the other. It was almost hot and had a taste to it that Boromir could not identify. It was not unpleasant and certainly much easier to swallow than anything he had ever received after battle or given in the midst of it.

Boromir noticed that Frodo’s tone was still hollow, with grief the only thing that could feel the void. Once the hobbit laid the man’s head gently down again and checked at the bandages that still covered his companion’s torso, he tightly clutched the gem that Arwen had given him.

“Who gave you such a beautiful gem? I talked with your uncle earlier and he told me that neither of you had married.”

“The queen Arwen gave it to me to help me with my memories and pain.”

Boromir was stunned. “There is a queen as well? Aragorn wed?”

“Yes, we were there, myself, Sam, Merry, and Pippin. She is the reason I was able to come here. The pain is the reason I had to.”

Boromir searched for how he could help comfort Frodo. He again wished Faramir was here. He would know what to say. “Would you have need of the drink then as well? It was better medicine than I ever tasted before.”

“Elrond is the best healer in all Middle-earth, but he cannot heal all things. It is not physical pain that ails me.”

“You said before that you thought you had failed. Is that what troubles you?”

Frodo did not answer right away. As the silence stretched, Boromir could feel in it a grief and shame that grew louder and louder until it was nearly shouting. Still the hobbit did not speak.

“I felt the Ring the whole while we were on our journey,” Boromir said. “It was like an itch I could not scratch, a whisper I could not silence. I tried to shut it out but it was always there, like a wind that always finds a way to chill one’s bones no matter how tightly one is wrapped against it, but much worse. It was inside and there was nothing I could do but endure it and hope I would be strong enough not to fail in my duty.”

Frodo looked at him with pain-filled eyes. “You know...you know...” the hobbit whispered.

“I did fail. I could not remain steadfast.”

Frodo lowered his head. “Yes, yes, yes,” came the haunted soft response that Boromir felt was not only an acknowledgment of his own failure, but an indictment the hobbit directed inward to himself. Frodo’s voice was stronger when he spoke next and faced the man again. “But you got up again and redressed your fall. I did not, not on my own, not without someone else dying so my failure would not destroy all Middle-earth. It just destroyed one person. One I had wanted to save.”

“You forgave me, Frodo, for a fall that could have caused the same ruin to our world. That is still a marvel to me.”

“Carrying the Ring taught me much about torment. It also gave me understanding for those in agony because of it. I suffered with them so loved and forgave them.”

Boromir was deeply moved. “Then can you forgive yourself? You will never be free of your pain if you do not. I have seen it happen before with the men of Gondor who lost soldiers under their command and blamed themselves for it. I saw strong, stouthearted friends fade before my eyes so crushed were they by the weight of carrying such a terrible burden. They could not see anything but the darkness in which they wandered lost. They could not see that it was not their fault that others perished against a foe too great for us. I could have happened to me as well if my brother not had me see sense. He tried to help others, but most would not talk about what happened. Their pain was plain to see until one day they just disappeared and were never seen alive again. Sometimes we were able to recover their body. I will never forget the look on my brother’s face whenever we discovered one. Other times we did not know what happened. You need to forgive yourself, Frodo, or the failure you feel will destroy you.”

When Frodo spoke next, his voice was no longer hollow. Torment had filled the void and lashed against Boromir as a physical thing. It rose to a scream, still without sound but deafening.

“Do you still hear that whisper? Or is it a shout that never ceases? One you hate and loathe as much as yourself but still long to hear because that is all you have left of it?” The Ring-bearer raised his eyes to Boromir. “You saved me before from freezing to death. Can you now save me from burning? Can anyone?”