A is for A n d ú r i l
"The sword of Elendil was forged anew by Elvish smiths, and on its blade was traced a device of seven stars set between the crescent Moon and the rayed Sun, and about them was written many runes; for Aragorn, son of Arathorn was going to war upon the marches of Mordor. Very bright was that sword when it was made whole again; the light of the sun shone redly in it, and the light of the moon shone cold, and its edge was hard and keen. And Aragorn gave it a new name and called it Andúril, Flame of the West.” - The Fellowship of the Ring, J R R Tolkien
‘I am Aragorn son of Arathorn; and if by life or death I can save you, I will.’
There is only one Lord of the Ring, only one who can bend it to his will. And he does not share power.
Lord of the Rings Reread: Minas Tirith
"What was that?" asked Beregond. "You also felt something?"
"Yes," muttered Pippin. "It is the sign of our fall, and the shadow of doom, a Fell Rider of the air."
"Yes, the shadow of doom," said Beregond. "I fear that Minas Tirith shall fall. Night comes. The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away."
For a time they sat together with bowed heads and did not speak. Then suddenly Pippin looked up and saw that the sun was still shining and the banners still streaming in the breeze. He shook himself. “It is passed,” he said. “No, my heart will not yet despair. Gandalf fell and has returned and is with us. We may stand, if only on one leg, or at least be left still upon our knees.”
"Rightly said!" cried Beregond, rising and striding to and fro. "Nay, though all things must come utterly to an end in time, Gondor shall not perish yet. Not though the walls be taken by a reckless foe that will build a hill of carrion before them. There are still other fastnesses, and secret ways of escape into the mountains. Hope and memory shall live still in some hidden valley where the grass is green."
"He’s fading. He’s not going to last. We must get him to my father."