On the way towards Redhorn Gate, camping in Hollin
I don't want to be king. Elrond knows this, he knows the reason for my sadness when we departed. I can not do it. My whole life I have been left to my own devices. I am a Ranger; I wander the land and protect the boundaries. But now the sword has been remade. From the ashes a fire shall be woken. The crownless again shall be king.
Being the leader of the Dunedain is different from a king. There they're all the same, Rangers. This is Gondor, though. I know nothing of it. Already I feel the pressure of leading the Company. Gandalf doubts taking the pass at Redhorn. He wants to take the darker way. I shudder to think of it. No, no, I can't think of that.
I need to protect this Company. I already feel a liking towards the hobbits. There's more to them than meets the eye. They kept up well throughout our flight. I did not expect Frodo to last that long against the power of the Nine. I must admit I had my doubts when I first met them. They seemed to have more air than brains in their heads. With Frodo's accidental slip up with the ring and Merry wandering off, it didn't appear to be the best travelling group. They are too lax in their discernment. Many years have taught me judgement.
It was welcome to return to Rivendell. I had been raised in Imladris, and had not visited for a fair bit of time. Instead of going to the welcoming feast when Frodo awoke, I went to speak with Elrond's sons, Elladan and Elrohir. They would often travel with us Rangers, eager to punish the orcs for their mother's torture at their hands.
Arwen was at the feast. I talked to her in the Hall of Fire after. Seeing her arises mixed emotions in me. It's as if I can't be separated from her, but at the same time it only hurts to see her, knowing I can't have her. It causes a pain unlike any wound. This pain strikes my heart, leaves me breathless as I look upon her beauty. That is what Elrond knew of when we set out. I was leaving Arwen behind. Going on this journey almost solidified my crown, and that is not a light thought for me. It also means letting go of her. I would only bring her and her family pain. Arwen , having human blood, is given the gift, or curse, of choosing between the immortal elven life or the pain-riddled mortal life. Choosing me would make her mortal. I could not do that to her and her family. Not after everything Elrond has done for me.
The throne is something I have never wanted. It would mean giving up my life, and I do not find myself suited to that position. I would not be received kindly, either. At least not by the Steward. Boromir already expressed his doubts upon seeing me. He would say how having a wielder of the Sword of Elendil would help, if it could actually happen. He said also of whether I would be able to live up to expectations, and how I looked nothing of Isildur. Although his doubts were assuaged, and he is a valiant man, the ways of Gondor are too different for me to imagine.
I am scared of leading this group astray. Gandalf will help me, of course. I shall travel long miles with the company, but eventually, our paths will part. I head to Gondor with Boromir, I can only hope Frodo finds the strength to do what needs doing.