Pride Goeth...

By Marigold

Beta by Llinos

We are two nights march from Rivendell and still the halflings do not seem themselves. Frodo appears to be more worried than is good for him, and the others – I cannot quite decipher their emotions. They seem to be upset over some matter, and ill at ease. And too, I have noticed that Pippin and Merry are quieter than usual and wonder what could be the cause. Sam speaks little and is abrupt when he speaks at all. 

They must be very frightened I think, now that we have actually set out, and who can blame them, small and provincial as they are. It seems they are completely out of their depth and I pity them. I had spent much time with Merry and Pippin in Rivendell, teaching them the basics of swordplay and felt that I had begun to know them well. And, though I did not know Samwise and the Ring-bearer nearly so well, I considered them too to be my friends. So with friendship in mind I have done my best to lighten their spirits but to no avail. I cannot coax so much as a smile.

We make camp this morning in a little hollow, hoping to remain hidden from unfriendly eyes. Pippin has begged Mithrandir for a small fire, and all are disappointed at his refusal because “it is too dangerous just now, my lads”. He is clearly sad to deny their request for a little warmth and a “nice cup of tea” but I am well aware that the old wizard is only doing what he thinks he must to keep our party secret and safe. I do think that his demand that we keep watch in pairs and his refusal to have even a small fire is overly cautious this early in our journey but I do not fault him. It is better to be overcautious and remain alive. Smoke can be smelt even when fire cannot be seen. And yet the halflings do not appear annoyed with him, though I cannot help but notice several glances cast in my direction. Perhaps they just seek reassurance from a seasoned warrior such as myself that what Mithrandir does is necessary?

That must be the case and so I join them where they are arranging their blankets for the day’s rest. The looks that I receive are silent and slightly bemused, but I feel I must set the little folk straight. We have a long and dangerous journey ahead and they must steel themselves or all will be lost.

“May I speak with you my friends?” I ask pleasantly. Sam opens his mouth to speak, then clamps it shut. Once again Merry and Pippin wear the puzzled look that I have seen often since we set out. And the Ring-bearer…the Ring-bearer fixes me with a questioning gaze that gives me pause.

Though he is courteous I sense that he is hiding some disapproval and I wonder what it could be. “What is it, Boromir?”

I choose to ignore the coolness in his tone and come straight to the point. “That I agree Mithrandir is right to deny us a fire. It could be too easily spotted by servants of the Enemy. We must go forth with all of the stealth and secrecy that we can manage.”

Four brows furrow in perplexity and they exchange glances. Pippin appears about to say something, but for once seems to find no words. Merry takes a deep breath as if to speak but is stayed by Frodo’s hand on his arm. Sam is turning red, as if deeply embarrassed.

I did not expect my gentle words of caution to be met with such a response, I had thought that they would see the sense in them at once, but it is obvious that I will have to explain further.

“We can afford to take no risks. Surely you can see that? Our very lives depend upon secrecy and evading the Enemy. That means that we must bear certain hardships upon our road. We must do nothing that will give away our location.”

For a long moment they all stare at me silently. Then Frodo removes the restraining hand from Merry’s arm and they all begin to speak at once. I catch only parts of their speech but what I do hear is baffling; “…why are you telling us…“…Mr Frodo, I don't understand …” …Merry, it's not fair…” and “Hush Pip, it must be different for men…”

And suddenly I realise that the hobbits have not been so distant with the others of our Fellowship. I have heard Pippin singing quietly, and Merry’s gentle laughter, Sam chattering to the pack-pony, and Frodo conversing in low tones with Mithrandir and the others. It is only I that have somehow gained their distance and I cannot think why for the life of me. I sense that I am about to find out.

A gesture from Frodo silences the others, and he looks at me with the oddest expression of polite mystification. “You say Boromir, that we must all be as quiet and as careful as possible?”

I nod, puzzled. Surely that we must behave so is evident?

“And that we must all make sacrifices to keep everyone safe? That it is the responsibility of each of us to safeguard the lives of the others?” He is clearly baffled, though I do not understand the problem.

“That is exactly what I am saying.”

Pippin looks up at me with a puzzled expression, "I don't understand Boromir, why you are telling us we've got to be quiet and everything and you made all that noise back in Rivendell?"

"Noise, what noise?" I am the one to be bemused now. Merry and Pippin were certainly able to be rowdy, especially when it came to singing loud songs in the evening or fooling around during sword practice.

Sam speaks carefully, so that I cannot possibly misunderstand. “That horn of yours Mr Boromir.”

I am even more confused now and look from one to the other.

“Really Boromir, how silly could you have been?” Merry looks at me in exasperation, his tone matching just the way that he speaks to young Pippin on occasion, although then it is usually good natured fun. 

It takes me a moment to understand that Meriadoc has called me silly. Before I can respond though, Frodo is agreeing.

“How could you do that? You speak to us as if we are children and yet behaved like a child yourself. We are not children Boromir; we know what is at stake here. Our very lives, indeed the lives of all Free Peoples of Middle-earth. And we recognize the need for secrecy and stealth, we really do! That's why we don’t understand why it is all right for you to sound your horn so full and loud but then you take it upon yourself to tell us we have to be quiet and go without a fire.”

Pippin takes up where Frodo ended. “We look up to you Boromir, Merry and I, but it's hard to do that when you act so contrariwise!”

I almost laugh at Pippin's indignation and odd way of expressing himself. But then I catch myself as what he and the others have said sinks in. Obviously they do not understand the importance of my actions and I try to explain.

“But I always sound my horn when setting forth. It is a symbol of the bravery and steadfastness of Gondor, its clear note a warning to her enemies.”

Sam snorted. Never had I been snorted at by a gardener. “Well Mr Boromir, I am afraid that all it did in this case is maybe let the enemies of Gondor – and everyone else besides – know that Mr Frodo and the rest of us was leaving Rivendell.”

"Hush Sam," Frodo is obviously embarrassed at his gardener's forthright attitude. "I hate to say it Boromir, but Sam is right. And I understand that you are brave and bold, but this mission is different from what you are used to. I think perhaps that's hard for someone as fearless as you to come to terms with."

Merry nodded in agreement. “I am afraid that all you accomplished by blowing your grand horn this time was possibly drawing any enemies lying in wait towards our position.”

It is young Pippin that delivers the final blow. "Certainly if I had done such a thing, Merry would have clouted me about the head and told me not to be such a show-off! As though I was shouting to anyone that might have been lurking about the borders ‘we’re off now’!" He finishes with a chuckle, but the point is not lost on me this time.

And I realise that they are right. I have risked us all, risked our mission, risked all of Middle-earth. Because of my pride. Because I am Boromir, son of Denethor and Captain of Gondor and I was proud enough to declare my going forth to do brave deeds to all that could hear.

I recalled my haughty words to Elrond: “I will not go forth as a thief in the night”. That is exactly what I should have done, what the others were wise enough to be willing to do. No one else was foolish enough to make such a grandiose gesture that might call attention to our party. Because of me, enemies that might have taken days to realise that we had left the shelter of Elrond’s Valley or to find our trail might very well have been drawn near to the point where we left our safe haven.

I have increased the danger to our mission. It is in part because of my fearless pride that Gandalf has declared that two must watch, that there can be no fire and that we cannot be warm and the halflings cannot have the small comfort of a mug of hot tea. It is because of my actions that Frodo’s worries have been heavier than they might otherwise have been.

I am embarrassed now to think that I put myself forward to instruct these small but brave folk on the need to travel circumspectly, to assume that they must be frightened and in need of my reassurance.

The depth of my blindness stuns me and I tell them so, and learn something else about this race so foreign to me. They have hearts much bigger than their stature. They forgive me immediately, the moment the words “My friends, I am so very sorry,” leave my lips and they can see that I understand at last what I have done. Pippin nearly has me over in an enthusiastic hug, and Merry claps my arm as firmly as any comrade in Gondor’s army. I find I am relieved most of all to be back in their good graces, as these two have become dear to me.

Frodo smiles. “I know that you are brave and fearless Boromir, else Elrond would not have set you amongst our company. I just think perhaps hobbits understand secrecy and stealth more than a bold warrior ever could."

I can tell that though he has forgiven me that I will have to prove myself again to him and I will strive my best to do so in the days to come. The Ring-bearer needs to fully trust all of his companions on this dangerous journey and I would not burden him with doubts.

“Aye,” puts in Samwise. “My old Gaffer says that there’s no one as is perfect, Sir, but the wise folks is them as admits it.”

Pippin laughs. “I must be very wise then!” He looks up at me mischievously. “There isn’t any other time that you always blow your horn is there Boromir, that you might want to warn us about? At dawn every other Thursday, or the full moon perhaps?” 

“Or at bath time to announce that the son of Gondor may be seen in all his glory?” Merry teases.

I laugh along with the others. “There will be no danger of baths for long weeks to come I fear! No my friends. I will not sound my horn again unless lives depend upon it and our need is dire.”

“Hopefully such a time will never come,” said Frodo soberly. “But I fear that may be too much to hope for.”

“I fear it as well. But let us not dwell now on what may be in the long days to come. We have cleared the air between us and I am glad. Sleep now, all of you. We will have a long march tonight, and our watches will be upon us soon enough.”

They curl up into their cloaks and blankets, all in a row; Merry, Pippin, Frodo, Sam and, after some good-natured arguing over whether or not they should say “good night” or “good morning” and admonishing me to go to my own bedroll to take my own rest, they immediately fall asleep.

I am weary and want to sleep as well but first I must apologise to my other companions. What a fool they must think me! For a moment longer I watch the halflings – hobbits rather, I must remember that is what they prefer to be called – as they sleep, still dismayed at the danger I could have brought down upon them, upon us all. I will make it up to them, and will do all that I can to prove myself to Frodo.

And if it comes to it, I bear not only a horn but a sword as well. None of them will fall if it is in my power to prevent it. This I swear.