These Halflings – these children – have borne the peril of Men to the very eaves of Mordor. They are so weak, so helpless! And yet they have done what the mighty could not.
He sighed deeply.
Boromir my brother! All your life you sought glory. The glory of Gondor, the glory of Minas Tirith, the glory of the Steward and his heir. Even the love of woman you scorned, for no mere woman could be glorious in your eyes. Too sore, too sore this trial! It was fickle, treacherous glory that placed the first lie on your lips and gave you the quest that was mine. Why could you NOT ONCE let me be the savior, the protector? Why did you usurp my place? You paid for that deceit with your life, and damned me to a lifetime of regret, however short that may be.
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