The Fellowship of the Ring

Chapter 9 opens with a despondent tone, as the coming spring offers no hope, only fear and uncertainty. Having left the succor and timeless protection of Lórien, the Company is now vulnerable. The river exposes them, the dark creature in the sky is unidentified, and Gollum’s slippery presence keeps Sam, Frodo, and Aragorn on watch. The fellowship also weathers discord over their route forward, and Aragorn literally straddles the middle; he navigates the boats down the center of the river, symbolizing not only his difficulty in deciding the fellowship’s path but also his inner conflict over his identity as potential king of Gondor.

Aragorn consistently demonstrates his fairness and humility as a leader. He admits his error in going too far down the river, and he gives Frodo the right to decide their path. Though Gandalf is absent, Aragorn still looks to the wizard’s wisdom and seeks to align his actions with those of the Wise: “I am not Gandalf, and though I have tried to bear his part, I do not know what design or hope he had for this hour, if indeed he had any” (387). Aragorn’s leadership is bold but without arrogance, as he admits his limitations and ignorance. Their passage through the Argonath profoundly affects Aragorn as he looks directly upon the statues of his ancestors, a metaphor for reclaiming his past. He appears as “a king returning from exile to his own land” (384), and the moment foreshadows Aragorn’s homecoming in The Return of the King. As they pass the monument of the diminished kingdom, Aragorn’s reaction shifts the tone of the journey: Fear and uncertainty become dignity and strength.

The closing chapters also confirm Sam as the one companion who truly understands Frodo, and they conclusively expose Boromir’s tragic flaw of pride. Sam demonstrates his friendship through actions, for he dives into the river and risks drowning to follow Frodo. In contrast, while Boromir speaks of friendship, these are mere words without deeds. His actions reflect neither affection nor loyalty. He prioritizes his desire to return to Gondor, to the extent that he is willing to go alone; this sharply contrasts with all other members, who wish to keep Frodo from solitude. Legolas states, “It would be faithless now to say farewell” (393). However, Boromir is a complex character whose motives are not entirely malicious, for his family has essentially ruled and protected Gondor as Stewards without the accolades and legitimacy granted a king. Sam acknowledges that Boromir is “not in this business [of destroying the Ring]. He’s off to his home, as he always said; and no blame to him” (394). As the nation closest to Mordor’s borders, Gondor has suffered the brunt of Sauron’s attacks. While Boromir’s resentment lies partly in his rivalry with Aragorn (who has a right to Gondor’s throne), it also lies in the unacknowledged sacrifices of his country.

The Argonath’s symbolism becomes doubly poignant, as the statues depict two brothers—the ancient joint-rulers of Gondor—and mirror the possible fraternity between Boromir and Aragorn. Although Boromir’s vision of rulership upholds noble ideals of being a “mighty king, benevolent and wise” (389), the Ring’s corruptive power distorts his intentions, bending them toward his ego. With this desire for esteem, Boromir’s pride is a foil to Aragorn’s humility: Aragorn still performs a king’s duty by protecting Middle-earth, but he does so in secrecy as Strider. Moreover, he willingly endures this lonely alienation to keep his existence hidden from Sauron, who would otherwise seek retribution upon him and those around him. The ending of The Fellowship of the Ring sets up the dual narratives that structure the following volumes of The Lord of the Rings. Tolkien intersperses Frodo and Sam’s journey to Mount Doom with the intrigues of alliances and lineage in the epic kingdoms of Middle-earth.