The Ballad Of The Second Son

I think I like Ithilien well enough:
We Rangers are a pretty hardy lot;
And though at times we can be rather rough,
We only do it to advance the plot.

A case in point: those Halflings from our hunt:
I let them go of course, but I was stern.
Although I wish my men weren't quite so blunt;
When dad finds out, they said, I'd surely burn.

Well, things at home could use a bit less strife;
At times I wonder if there's any hope.
My brother beat me to the afterlife
(He owes me twenty dollars, the big dope).

My father's bonkers, much to my dismay;
My war-horse only cost two hundred bucks;
I've never gotten raises on my pay
...In short, my life as second offspring sucks.

When, at Osgiliath, things got too hot,
Discretion being better, we all fled.
You want me to go back there? I think not!
You might as well set fire to me instead.

But back I went at last, and - you may guess:
My war-horse dragged me homeward by-and-by;
They left me on my bed to convalesce
(I wish they hadn't turned the heat so high).

I missed the mighty battle, so I'm told,
That shook the very walls - a sight to see;
I can't believe I'm stuck inside this old
And dreary House of Healing...wait, who's SHE?

And then, atop this business with the Ring,
From out of nowhere came this scruffy man
Who claimed to be the once and future King
...Ah well, there goes that "ruling Gondor" plan.