He is running to Boromir's side before the Uruk-hai's body has fallen, fearful his companion's wounds are beyond healing.
Three arrows. Not so many, but enough. Enough to shatter the frame of the man he loves; enough to drain his life's blood drop by precious drop. If Aragorn cannot heal the body, perhaps he can mend the broken spirit.
With words, he assures the Captain of Gondor that his honour has not been lost. With words, he promises to defend the White City, rekindling hope in the noble breast. And with a kiss, he pledges a love undying and true.
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