Forgiveness
Boromir stretched luxuriously in his bed. This, this was what he had dream of for so long, home, safe and warm, though not quite as he had expected it, for today was Aragorn's coronation. Boromir almost laughed at the irony of it; Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king. He remembered the sheer venom and conviction with which he had once spat those words. Stubborn and proud, Faramir had once called him. No, he had returned, merely aware of the fact that Gondor needs something more substantial than old legends of great kings returning to cling to. Now he believed with all his heart that there was no greater man to rule his beloved Gondor than that of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildir.
Faramir had always quietly clung to the old legends, dreamed of the day a king would return, would have gladly given up any rights his station as Son of the Steward gave him if only he could see a king returned to save them. At the time it had seemed like Faramir had his head in the clouds, whilst Boromir was the practical one. Now, one had to wonder whether it was really the other way around. At any rate, Faramir had little desire for power, whilst his father and himself shared that uncomfortable trait.
Maybe that was why Faramir had been able to resist the temptation of the Ring.
Boromir rolled over and groaned; it always came back to it, his great guilt. He had tried to take the Ring from Frodo. Tried to kill Frodo.
Frodo had forgiven him. When Frodo had been on his way to making a full recovery Boromir had come forward, kneeled before the hobbit and apologised. Frodo had waved his apologies away wearily and said, "The Ring tempts everyone, and everyone falls. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Boromir," Boromir felt like protesting, felt like pointing out that he had tried to kill the young hobbit, but then he had noticed the shadows behind Frodo's eyes and realised that talking of the Ring and the war was the last thing Frodo wanted. After that the shadow of a friendship that had been hindered by the Ring whilst they were travelling together grew and blossomed, though the guilt still gnawed at Boromir.
He ran across Frodo very soon after he had eaten breakfast. Frodo was reading one of the books from Minas Tirith's library. Boromir himself had very little knowledge of the place – he had never gone there unless he had too. Faramir was the complete opposite and often spent many hours burrowed in dusty scrolls and books. No doubt Faramir had been the one to recommend Frodo's latest acquisition; the two had bonded quickly and Faramir had loved showing someone the great lore and history of Gondor.
Frodo idly massaged his shoulder and gave a slight grimace. "How are you?" Boromir asked before he could stop himself. Frodo sighed,
"Most of my minor cuts and bruises have healed, the burns caused by the chain and the Ring are deeply ingrained, but are healing slowly. The burns caused by the lava are a little better. The scar from the Nazgul's blade still pains me and will never truly heal but as the darkness recedes its power lessens, and the herbs Aragorn gives me help greatly. My left hand is still missing a finger. Overall I am well. Does that satisfy?" Boromir caught the slightly sarcastic edge to Frodo's voice,
"My apologies. I know you do not enjoy having people fussing over you,"
"There are much more interesting things to talk about than my health," replied Frodo with a small smile,
"Then what do you wish to talk about?" Boromir asked. Frodo did not answer immediately, but looked at Boromir for a long time. Boromir had the uncomfortable feeling he was being analyzed,
"You still feel guilty about what happened at Amon Hem," said Frodo eventually,
"How can I not?" replied Boromir, not bothering to ask how Frodo knew. He had never been adept at hiding his emotions. In reply Frodo raised up his left hand,
"How do you suppose I lost my finger?" he asked mildly,
"The creature Gollum bit it off," replied Boromir immediately. The tale of Frodo and Sam's terrible journey came in bits and pieces; Frodo gradually revealed more as his strength slowly returned and Sam would only speak about something once Frodo had revealed it. Certain things had been skirted over, such as how, exactly, they had managed to get into Mordor. Frodo had merely smirked in his direction and casually told them that he and Sam had walked. The loss of Frodo's finger was one such part of the story. All Frodo had revealed was that Gollum had bitten it off in a fight in Mount Doom, and then such a look of pain came on his face that no one thought to press further.
"Why do you suppose he bit off my finger?" leaving Boromir no chance to reply he continued, "He bit off my finger because the Ring was, at that point, on my finger. It was on my finger because there, in the Crack of Doom I fell completely under its power and claimed the Ring as my own. I would have doomed Middle Earth had it not been for the fact that, by pure accident, Gollum fell off the cliff edge as we wrestled, the Ring clutched in his hand. They call me a hero. I am no such thing."
Boromir was silent for a long time until he said, sadly, "That is different. I tried to kill you,"
"I won't tell you all the things I put Sam through because of the Ring's influence on me, and the fact remains true that the Ring was only destroyed because of a curious interplay between chance and fate. I failed the task that was set to me. The Ring corrupts all, Boromir, and if we carry around the burden of guilt that it caused, then we can never rebuild what was lost."
"Sometimes I forget you are not a child, little one, but then you say something so wise I wonder how I could have ever had made the mistake," Frodo laughed,
"Come on, let us find Merry and Pippin, then we'll see how 'wise' hobbits can be,"
