Disclaimer:  This fic is not intended to infringe on any copyrights or other licences held by the Tolkien Estate, nor any other entity that holds rights to the characters and settings of The Lord of the Rings. 

A/N:  The tradition herein is a slight variation of those in Evendim's Gondorian fanfics and is used by permission.

METTARË
By Rhysylle

The youngest hobbit saw his new friend in the deserted Hall of Fire midway between the noon meal and the evening repast, and walked up on silent feet.  "What are you doing?" 

Boromir looked up, startled by the unexpected question, and the paper he was folding crumpled in his fingers, eliciting a sigh from the Steward of Gondor's heir.  He ran his fingers through his hair, automatically shoving back the locks that insisted on dropping in his eyes.

"Oops.  I'm sorry."  Pippin looked abashed as the Man tossed the damaged parchment at the hearth.  "I didn't mean to make you mess up--whatever it is you are doing."

"It is all right, little one," Boromir told him and reached for another sheet from the stack that sat next to him on the floor where he sat.  "As you can see, my prior attempts weren't working that well."  He waved at the hearth where several crumpled balls of parchment lay that had not made it entirely into the flames.

Pippin dropped to sit next to him and cocked his head.  "But I still don't understand what you are doing with the paper."

"I'm building a boat for a wish."  Boromir's fingers folded and creased the new piece of parchment as he spoke, his eyes focused on the task. 

"A wish?"  The hobbit watched, fascinated, as the sheet, from Boromir's manipulations, transformed into a trapezoidal shape that, by careful pressure on two points, popped into a three-dimensional boat shape with a flat bottom.

"It is a Gondorian custom to make paper boats for Mettarë, placing a small lit candle within, and to set them afloat in the River Anduin as the Last Day turns to the First Day.  You make a wish for the coming year as you launch them."  Boromir held the small paper construction balanced on the palm of his large hand and smiled wistfully.  "I wonder if my brother is folding a boat tonight.  He was always much better at it than I."

"Your brother--" Pippin hesitated as he remembered the name, "Faramir."

"Yes.  Faramir and I would accompany our parents down from the City to the banks of the Anduin and he would take our boat and light the candle, and then would wade out into the waters to set it free.  As the current took it and carried it down stream, the other people of our city would set theirs afloat as well--an armada of Light in the longest night of the year floating down the river to the sea, carrying all of our wishes to the Valar in the hopes that they would be granted."

"What a nice custom.  We have Foreyule, Yule and Afteryule--six days of feasting.  The food is good here but I admit that it is less plentiful than I am used to this time of year.  If we were home, I'd be in the middle of early tea, and enjoying my mother's seedcake--the best in the Shire--and that's saying something!"

"I thought it was my mum's seedcake that was best in the Shire, Pip." Merry had appeared at the doorway and stood, his arms crossed and a grin on his face.  "At least that's what you told her last Yule."

"Well, I suppose they could be tied for the best," Pippin conceded.  "But it's neither here nor there since we don't have any of it here."

Boromir set the boat carefully aside and drew up one knee, wrapping his hands around it as he sat and listened to the hobbits go on to describe the glories of the Yule feasting in the Great Smials and in Brandy Hall.

Finally, they ran down and Merry looked at the evidence of the Man's paperfolding attempts.  "What's all this, sir?"

Boromir again explained the custom of sending lights and wishes down the River Anduin as part of the year's turning and Merry sat silently, absorbing the information.

After Boromir had finished, Merry asked, "Could you show us how to make paper boats?  So we can send our own wishes to the Valar?"

The Captain-General of Gondor smiled.  "Of course.  Here, take a sheet each.  Now first you fold it thusly…"

- - - - -

Pippin and Merry hurried along after the sable-cloaked man in the starlit darkness that covered Rivendell, their hands carefully cradling the parchment boats that held candle stubs begged from one of Lord Elrond's servants. 

Boromir set down the closed lantern he carried as they reached the pebbly shore of the River Bruinen and knelt down, placing his own boat carefully on the ground.  He looked up and calculated the time by the position of the Menelvagor in the sky.  "Almost year-turn."  He lit each of the candles from the lantern and placed them carefully in each boat.  "Make your wish as you let them go."

Getting to his feet, he waded into the cold water of the Bruinen and placed the offering on the rushing water, making his own wish, as Merry and Pippin did likewise.

They watched the three lights bobble and weave on the current until they were out of sight, ignoring cold wet feet. 

Then Boromir took Pippin's hand, Merry collected the closed lantern, and they walked back to the glowing lamps of the Last Homely House as the New Year began. 

And each of them prayed that their wishes would come true.

FINIS