[b]Aragorn’s Battle[/b]

My blood is weak
Though as strong as kings
My line has failed
And yet I remain.

[i]Onen i-Estel Edain
Ú-chebin estel anim[/i]
She believed in me
Why can I not believe in myself?

I do not want that life
I chose to leave it long ago
I am who I am
A Ranger of the North.

But is that truly myself
Or is it a cover
Over the man
I do not want to see?

Most people hope
To see a king in themselves
All I want is to get away
From the king I cannot escape.

I cannot hide from him
Though I hide from the truth
He is hovering in my thoughts
And haunting my dreams.

They press me into their mold
Gandalf, Elrond, and others
Can they not see?
This is who I want to be!

And still the king is hunting me
Within the realm of my own thoughts
Let me go, and free me from the pain
Of knowing that my race is tainted!

I do not deserve to wear a crown
Not since a day long before I was born
I carry the burden of my ancestors
From birth to the grave.

What do I know of kingship?
I was raised as an Elf
That is the life I know
Not leadership of a country.

I am Strider of the North
I am Estel of the Peredhel house
I am not Aragorn son of Arathorn
I have never been of Gondor!

Denial makes war with love and hope
Perhaps I can set things to right
It is my native homeland
Though I have not lived there.

I have been running from it all my life
Now there is but one thing to do
For the hope and life of all men
And for my love of Arwen.

Am I willing or resigned?
There is no time for thought
I must lead as I was born to do
Though I never wanted such a thing.

But when battle is over
What will I do next?
Accept the crown willingly?
Or evade and flee again?

As I lead this battle against the Gate
The king is no longer hunting me
Instead, he is merging with me
Becoming me, though I always knew he was.

The fight has been won
Our world is safe
But one thing needs finishing
And I know I have to do it.

I have the sword, I have the name
But do I have the strength?
As I accept the crown and sceptre
I can feel the weakness swell in my bones.

The people have bowed to me, their king
And the weakness bursts
Like a wave on the shore
The weakness is gone.

For so many years, I feared it
Thinking I could evade it forever
But like in all tales and legends
I had to face it to defeat it.

I am still Strider of the North
I am still Estel of the Peredhel house
I am now Aragorn son of Arathorn
True king of the land of Gondor.

Should I be joyful or serious?
I have become my greatest fear
And I am no longer frightened
I believe that is cause for joy.

[i]Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien.
Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar[/i]
Tenn’ Ambar-metta!
Yes, unto the ending of the world.