“It’s so c-c-cold,” Merry stuttered, his teeth chattering.

Pippin crept closer to Merry until he was all but sitting in his lap while Frodo tugged his cousins’ hoods tighter under their chins with trembling hands. Sam nudged them all closer to Bill and the pony gave them some shelter from the wind but did little for the cold.

And so they waited, huddled together, until Boromir caught sight of them as he trudged through the camp.

“On your feet,” he said, lifting Pippin easily and setting him on the ground. The hobbit swayed and nearly fell but Boromir steadied him before helping the others stand beside him.

They stood in an uneven row, leaning against one another for support and barely able to keep their eyes open. With a frown, Boromir grabbed Frodo by the shoulders and shook him hard.

“Oi! Stop that!” Sam shouted, fully awake now. Merry and Pippin had perked up as well and looked at Boromir in confusion

Boromir let go of Frodo with a gentle pat to his shoulder. “My apologies, Frodo, but you cannot sleep now.”

“I feel so tired,” Frodo said wearily. “So very tired.”

“If you fall asleep in such cold weather you will die,” Boromir said simply. “You must stay awake.” He glanced around the makeshift camp then, taking note of the other members of the Fellowship.

“That goes for all of you,” he said firmly. “On your feet.”

If it had not been so cold, Boromir’s suggestion would have been met with laughter instead of stunned near-silence. As it was, Gandalf glowered at him from under the wide brim of his hat, Aragorn looked unconvinced, Legolas elegantly arched an eyebrow and Gimli bristled with barely suppressed rage.

“We dwarves-”

“Are just as susceptible to the cold as men and hobbits,” Boromir continued smoothly.

Smiling serenely, Legolas stood first. “Though I am not affected by the cold, I am interested in what Boromir has to say.”

Not one to be outdone by an elf, Gimli fought his way through a mound of snow to stand beside Legolas, muttering all the while.

Aragorn stood next, and was joined a moment later by Gandalf, who leaned heavily on his staff.

Boromir walked between the assembled group, occasionally shaking a bleary-eyed hobbit into awareness.

“Now,” he said in his best captain’s voice, “we march.”

“March where?” asked Merry, his words drowned out by an enormous yawn.

“Who’s a March hare?” Frodo asked in confusion, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Hare? Where?” Pippin asked, looking fully awake for the first time that day. “Mmm…rabbit. I’m starving.”

“No, no, no!” Boromir said loudly. “I said we must march, to warm our limbs and keep from falling asleep.”

“Oh,” Pippin said, clearly disappointed. “And then we’ll have supper?”

“Yes,” Boromir replied, gritting his teeth “Now march!”

They marched, back and forth in their small camp, until their arms and legs grew warmer and their minds felt sharper.

It did not feel so cold, then, when Boromir called a halt. Looking uncertain, the hobbits remained standing, obviously fearful that if they sat down again they would fall asleep, and yet too exhausted to continue.

“Here,” Boromir said, unclasping his great, fur-lined cloak before sitting. “Wrap this around yourselves; it should keep out some of the chill until we march again.”

“No,” Frodo said, smiling gratefully even as he shook his head. “We would not want you to be cold.”

“I’ll be fine,” Boromir started to protest, but was interrupted by Pippin re-clasping his cloak and spreading it into a tent-like formation.

“I have an idea,” Pippin said by way of explanation before climbing into Boromir’s lap and wrapping the cloak around him so only his eyes peeked out.

“It’s as warm in here as I thought,” he said, his voice muffled by the cloak. “You don’t mind, do you, Boromir?”

“No at all,” Boromir replied, his amusement growing as Merry climbed in as well. He glanced at Frodo and Sam, who still hung back. “Gentlemen?”

They hesitated for a moment before sitting down on either side of Boromir and wrapping the ends of his cloak around their shoulders.

Gandalf harrumphed from across the camp, but Boromir saw the old wizard’s eyes twinkling with approval.

“Boromir?” Pippin asked, tugging gently on the man’s arm. “Will you wake us if we fall asleep again?”

“Of course, Pippin,” Boromir said with a smile. “I’ll look after you.”