Peregrin Took - The Thain was the traditional military leader of the Hobbits of the Shire.  The Hobbits first chose a Thain to rule them when Arvedui, last King of Arnor, died.  Over time the Thain became a hereditary position, originally held by the Oldbuck Clan. Since 740 SR, the Thainship has remained within the powerful Took clan. Since the Thain ruled in the place of the King, in principle his office was equal to the Ruling Steward of Gondor, albeit in power over a much smaller area. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thain)

Boromir - Steward was the traditional title of a chief counsellor to one of the Kings of Gondor. During the time of the Steward Pelendur, from the famous House of Húrin, this title became hereditary, passing the station of counsellor from father to son, much like the Kingship.  After the death of King Eärnur, who left no heir to the throne of Gondor, the Steward Mardil Voronwë became the first of the Ruling Stewards.  The Stewards watched over the throne until it could be reclaimed by a true King of Gondor, an heir of Elendil.  (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steward_of_Gondor)

“So you are a… thain? Is that the word you use?”

“It is but I’m not. At least, not yet,” Peregrin Took said with a smile. “And many don’t think I’ll ever become one.”

“And why is that?”

“Too flighty, I suppose.”

Boromir laughed long and hard, then quickly apologized as Pippin’s face grew red.

“So you are a… steward? Is that the word you use?”

“I deserved that, Master Thain.”

“No, you didn’t. I should watch my mouth. It gets me into quite a bit of trouble, you know.”

Boromir grinned again. They had not been traveling together very long, but long enough for the Steward’s son to know that Pippin rarely watched his mouth.

Pippin saw the grin and began to laugh. “None of that from you,” he cried. “I get enough from family and,” he pointed markedly, “Gandalf.” He burst into another bout of laughter.

“So we are alike?”

“I think so,” Pippin frowned. “I find it strange, don’t you, Boromir, that we are both not quite leaders of our people? I mean, you are not yet Steward and I am not yet Thain, but we are meant to be, someday.”

“More than meant, Master Thain,” Boromir continued the thought, “We are fated.”

“Yes, that’s a good word for it. Sometimes Master Steward,” and Pip’s grin continued the joke, “I don’t want to be. Do you ever not want to be Steward?”

Boromir watched the Halfling who lit his pipe and drew on it as worry furrowed the small brow. “Is being a thain in the Shire difficult?”

“Sometimes,” Pippin sighed. “I see my father getting older before my eyes. I think it can be a great burden.”

Tears sprang to Boromir’s eyes, but did not fall. “Aye. I see the same in my father. Mayhap,” he turned and placed a hand upon the Halfling’s shoulder, “if we speak together of it, it will lessen the sorrow?”

“Sorrow?” Pip asked, wide-eyed.

“Aye. Is it not a sorrow to watch your father suffer?”

“Oh!” Pip exclaimed. “I don’t think he suffers. He gets tired of the squabbling and such, but he laughs a lot.”

Perplexed, Boromir waited, but the Halfling spoke not. “Then why do you not want to become thain?”

“Because I like to travel, I’ve discovered. And I like to do what I want when I want. And I like to meet new people. And I like to…”

Boromir looked askance. Had not he been warned about getting this particular Halfling started on any conversation? He gripped the shoulder again. “But you can still do all these things as thain?”

“Of course I can,” Pippin laughed, “but I’d be constantly reminded, mostly by Merry, that I had duties to do. That’s what I don’t like – the duties.”

“What are they, Master Thain?”

“Well, they used to be about building fences, maybe a bridge now and again, or settling a land dispute. Or,” he smiled wickedly, “judging jams at the fair. Dangerous work, that.”  His face fell. “Since things have been going badly as of late what with all the strangers and unusual things happening, and if we aren’t successful on this Quest, then I suppose they will be duties of battle. I’ve… I’ve never been in a battle. Well, there was the thing with those wraiths, but mostly I was scared.”

“That happens to any sane person when o’ertaken by battle,” Boromir said mildly. “If you had not been afraid, especially with that adversary, I would wonder at your sense.”

“Don’t you already?”

Boromir studied the Halfling for a moment. “I do not. I consider you brave. To have left your world to step out into another for the love of a friend, that is most brave. Is not that what you did?”

“Well, it wasn’t all that difficult. We’d been watching Frodo, you know.” The irrepressible Hobbit laughed. “Sam was the first one to notice things were getting peculiar. So he told Merry and me to kind of watch over Frodo. Which we did. Saw some strange things.” He shut his mouth quickly.

“Master Thain,” Boromir said kindly. “I will not ask you to divulge any secrets or oaths you might have taken. Guard your mouth,” and he smiled at the thought, “and speak only what you wish. I will not cajole you further.”

“Thank you,” Pippin said and smiled at the Gondorian. “Well, the long and the short of it is – we decided that Frodo was planning on leaving the Shire and we decided he wouldn’t leave it alone, if you know what I mean.”

Boromir nodded, laughing to himself as he realized that, once again, the Halfling was off on another merry tale and had left behind the discussion they had started. He listened for some time, then, supper was called and the Halfling, hardly stopping to say good-bye, left him.

~*~

They had not had the opportunity to talk further that night; Boromir had first watch and Pippin had third. Surprisingly, Boromir felt cheated. He had wanted to spend more time with the next thain. Morning proved even more frustrating. He was sent to guard the back of their line and Pip was somewhere in the middle with the other Halflings. Boromir contented himself with watching the four.

They were playing some kind of a game he assumed, for one moment they would be whispering and the next they would be running around each other, and Legolas, much to the Elf’s discomfiture. After Pip started shrieking in glee, Gandalf hushed them all. Boromir felt saddened. Their play had lifted his spirits immeasurably.

He smiled suddenly when he noted Pippin looking back at him, a half smile on the Halfling’s face. He waved and Pip walked back towards him. “I believe, Master Thain,” Boromir said quietly, “that your place is in front with the other Hobbits?”

“I’m not in Gandalf’s best graces at the moment,” the thain smiled sadly. “So I think he and I will both be safer if I stay away from him.”

“He is not a very wise wizard,” Boromir said calmly.

“He is too! He’s the best there ever was. He makes the best fireworks, and the best smoke rings, dragons, wagons and such. Besides which,” the Halfling, Boromir noted, was becoming incensed, “He’s my friend.”

Pippin started to walk away, but Boromir quickly apologized. “My father does not particularly like Mith… Gandalf. So, I find it best not to let myself befriend him.”

“Oh!” Pippin’s eyes were wide. “I know what you mean. Ted Sandyman is my friend, but my Da has fits when I play with him. But he lives in a mill and it is such fun to explore and smell the woodchips and jump into the river from the millwheel.”

Again, Pippin didn’t stop talking for nigh unto an hour. Boromir listened greedily while listening to the story of the play of these two friends.

Pippin stopped to catch a breath and blushed furiously. “I’ve not stopped talking for almost the whole morning, never even given you a chance to say anything. You are most polite, Master Steward, and I have the worst manners imaginable.”

“Nay!” Boromir laughed. “I thoroughly enjoyed all you spoke of. I… I wish I had such a friend, such time for play.”

“You don’t? I mean, you didn’t when you were my age?”

Boromir cocked his head to the side and asked, “How old, exactly, are you, Master Thain?”

“I’m not even to my majority. I’m still a tween. Twenty-eight, to be specific.”

“At twenty-eight I was already Captain-general of all of Gondor’s armies.”

“And that made you sad?” Pip asked in consternation.

“Nay,” Boromir’s brow furrowed as he tried to put his thoughts together. “I was made an esquire at the age of twelve and first lieutenant at the age of fourteen. Not much time before that to play.”

“Oh!” Again Pip’s eyes became large and round. “I was just learning to swim when I was twelve. Merry taught me.” He smiled.

“I taught my brother. Merry is not your brother, is he?”

“Oh no! He’s my first cousin, on my father’s side. But we’ve been close since the day I was born. Though he lives across the river. Hence, my need to learn to swim. He’s very smart and I can count on him to do anything. So can Frodo. He even moved Frodo out of Bag End before… I’m sorry. I’m talking about myself again and not letting you say anything. Forgive me. I have three sisters, but no brothers. I wish I did. You said you have a brother?”

“I do,” and now Boromir’s face broke into a great grin, only touched by some sadness in his eyes. “Faramir is his name. He is five years my younger. And I love him dearly. I suppose as much as you love Merry.”

“Then you must love him a lot, for I love Merry totally. I can trust him. With my life.” Pip stopped and bit his lip.

“Do not be concerned with your nature, Master Thain. I love to hear your tales.”

“But it is not polite,” Pippin said with some acerbity. “My Da would have my hide if he heard me.”

“Then I will take a moment to share a little about my brother with you, to save your hide.” And his smile widened. “As I said, his name is Faramir and he is younger.”

The sun was now overhead and Boromir looked up in surprise as Gandalf called for a break. He had been speaking for over an hour himself. He looked at the Halfling next to him. The eyes that looked back at him were full of wonder, not of boredom as he had expected. “Now it is my turn to ask forgiveness, Master Thain. I have bent your ear for far too long.”

“No, Master Steward,” Pippin smiled. “I love to hear your tales. But I really must go and help prepare the meal. Forgive me for leaving you.”

Boromir bowed graciously. “Of course. Someone must prepare the meal.” He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing outright. The Halfling was so serious, but Boromir knew it was not so much preparation of the meal that had the Halfling almost beside himself in haste, but the eating of the meal that drove the thain.

Pippin waved to him and ran forward towards the fire Gimli was just building.

Boromir wiped a hand across his eyes and swallowed with difficulty. It had felt good to speak of his brother.

“Don’t you believe that Strider is king?”

Boromir looked with surprise at Pippin. “What… king of my land?” His mind whirled. They had just been speaking of ales and what Pip’s favorites were when suddenly, the Halfling had hit him with this question.

“Yes,” Pippin said with a grin. “Isn’t that what he is?”

“There are some who say he is.”

“But you don’t believe them?”

“We spoke before, Master Thain, of duties. Do you remember?”

“Of course,” Pippin laughed. “Especially jam judging.”

“There are other duties: to our people, to tradition, to the laws of our lands. Do you not believe that?”

“Of course I do. But what does that have to do with Strider being king?”

They had stopped walking and Boromir pulled his hand over his face trying to simplify something so complicated that blood had been shed over it. “We lived on an island, my people, a very long time ago. Something happened and the island sank. My people escaped and came to… well, came to this land. My ancestors were in separate boats; the father and one of his sons went north, while his other son landed in Gondor. There was a battle and everyone came together for it. Unfortunately, the father died in the battle, but the brother from the south also died in the battle. So the son from the north,” Boromir put his hand over his face and moaned. ‘this is most complicated.’ He continued on though, for Pippin looked very interested. ‘The brother from the north stayed in Gondor for some time and taught his brother’s son about being king and such. Then, he went back north but he was waylaid by Orcs and killed. Much happened to my people after that. Eventually, the line of kings suffered, but the long and the short of it, as you so aptly say Master Thain, is that we now have no king. My father cares for Gondor until the king returns.” He swore softly to himself; he was not even sure if he had told the tale correctly.

“But Strider is supposed to be that king’s heir. You know, the king who went north. Though it seems that was a long time ago.”

“Some do not believe that the king who left and went north is our king. They believe that the king must come from the line of our king and not the one who went north. In fact, it is now tradition and law”

“Oh!” Pippin’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “What do you believe Boromir?”

Boromir looked ahead to see Aragorn stopped and looking back at them, though he knew the Ranger could not possibly have heard their discussion. “I would have said nay, before I met Aragorn. Oh for the Valar’s sake, Master Thain, I do not know what to think.” He threw up his hands in confusion and strode purposefully forward, away from the young Halfling.

He stopped when he felt a gentle hand on his arm. “The Hobbit thinks he has offended you,” the calm, soft voice of the Elf brought Boromir up short. He looked back and saw Pippin standing with his head bowed. “I thank you, Master Elf.” He smiled to himself as he walked away. ‘Now I am calling everyone ‘master.’ This surely must stop!’ But the joy of the thought and the warm camaraderie that Pippin had shown him, made him continue to smile.

Pippin saw it as he raised his head to trudge forward and smiled back. “I’m so sorry, Boromir. I didn’t think. Of course, your laws are important. I’ve opened my mouth and put my foot into it again.” The Halfling sighed dejectedly.

“Do not speak further about your failings for it is mine that is to blame today. Mayhap,” and Boromir’s smile turned into full laughter, “tomorrow we can blame you for something.”

Pippin laughed so hard his eyes watered. Finally, after taking a breath or two, he asked, “Then we are still friends, Master Steward?”

“That we are, much to your sorrow, I’m afraid, Master Thain. Let us not discuss the king anymore. Though,” and Boromir looked at Pippin quizzically. "You are to be thain because of the king of the north, are you not?”

“I am. But only because the king died and left no one to rule the Shire.”

“But the same is true for me!” Boromir exclaimed with fervor. “As I told you.”

“Then we have something else in common.”

“That we have, Master Thain. That we have.”

“Perhaps now would be a good time to teach you how to smoke a pipe?”

Boromir looked at the Halfling as if at an Ent. “Why would I want to learn such an odious…? I am sorry. I do not think I would like that.”

“Oh but you would,” Pippin said enthusiastically. “I’ll bet you’d love it. Why, I have some of the best pipeweed in all Middle-earth in a pouch here at my belt.” The Halfling proceeded to pull the pouch off and show it to Boromir. “I’ll bet you’ve never smelt any better.” And with that he opened the pouch and shoved it into Boromir’s face.

The man started sneezing violently and pushed the pouch away. Gasping for breath, he sat on a rock nearby.

Pippin ran to him in fright. “I’m awfully sorry, Boromir! Truly I am. I only meant for you to take a little sniff.”

“’Twas my fault,” Boromir said for the second time this day. “I didn’t realize the odour was so strong. I took too large a sniff.” Tears were running from his eyes. Pippin sat down next to him, handed him a kerchief, and the man blew his nose and wiped his eyes. “Thank you.”

Aragorn had walked back to join them. “Is everything all right here?”

“It’s all my fault, Strider. “I opened my pouch to show him my pipeweed….”

“’Twas my fault, Aragorn,” Boromir interrupted. “I have not smelt the stuff before and took too big a whiff.”

Aragorn’s shoulders started to shake. His lips clenched tightly. Finally, he could hold it in no longer. He gave a great shout of laughter that echoed over the hills.

Boromir and Pippin looked at each other, stood, and left the man to his madness.

~*~

Days passed and their road was filled with terror many a time. They had tried to climb the mountain, but it fought back. After much struggle, they arrived safely at the bottom. Pippin turned to Boromir. “You saved us all, Master Steward.” His eyes were wide with fright and cold.

“Nay, Master Thain. ‘Twas only that I was first to note that Frodo slept. If not I, another would have realized the danger.”

“No, Boromir,” Pippin said seriously. “It was you saved us. I’ll always be grateful.”

The man blushed but kept still. If the Halfling wished him to be his rescuer, then he would leave it at that, though he was not comfortable with it. Gandalf, thankfully, called for rest and Boromir gratefully sank to the ground. His very bones ached from weariness. If the drift had been any higher, he doubted they could have passed.

Pippin’s hands found his shoulders and Boromir started in surprise. “I used to do this for my Granny for her bones would hurt in the winter. It seemed to help.” He massaged Boromir’s shoulders and neck.

“Thank you, Peregrin.” He was touched by the Halfling's concern. They all turned their attention to Gandalf who now spoke of Moria. After a few moments, Pippin moved to Merry’s side.

After much debate, Aragorn jumped up and shouted about wargs. Boromir had seen the beasts once, battled them once in the White Mountains. He shuddered and ran to the Halflings’ side. Shepherding them up a small hill while Aragorn covered their backs, he sat them around the fire that Gimli started. Boromir saw the fear in Pippin’s eyes, sat next to him, and started to speak. “Have you ever seen a warg, Pippin?”

“I’ve only heard of them in Bilbo’s stories. They sounded horrible then and now that I have heard their call, they sound even worse. Are we going to be all right?”

“If I have any say in the matter, we will all live to walk the halls of Moria.” His face took on a scowl.

Pippin bit his lip. “You don’t like wargs, do you?”

Boromir looked at the Halfling in amaze. “I do not think anyone likes wargs. Nay. That is not true. I am sure their Orc-riders appreciate them.”

“What do they look like, Boromir?”

The man of Gondor wondered how much he should tell, but common sense finally dictated truth. They would be face to face with the beasts soon enough. Better to be prepared for what they were about to see. “They are very large. Almost the size of small ponies. Their hair is long and very shaggy, which makes them look even larger. They have vicious, long snouts with teeth that protrude and their backs are arched. They are altogether nasty beasts. The only thing I fear more are mûmakil.”

“What are mûmakil?”

Boromir scratched his forehead. Did Pippin ever stop asking questions? The weariness of the day settled upon him again. Looking at the Halflings, he saw they all waited for his answer.

“The mûmak is a great beast, the size of a small house.”

Aragorn heard and walked over. “Not a Hobbit house, Pippin, but a big person’s house. Like those in Bree.”

The Halflings’ jaws dropped.

Boromir waited, but Aragorn did not continue. “They are grey and their call is raucous and frightens even horses. They have very long noses…”

Sam jumped up in surprise. “It’s not a mu… whatever word you used, Boromir, it is an oliphant! There are such things?”

Boromir nodded in surprise. “Oliphants you call them?”

“Yes,” said Sam and he stood as still as could be, his face alight with joy and began,

“Grey as a mouse,

Big as a house.

Nose like a snake”

“I am sorry to interrupt, Sam, but you must all sleep while you can,” Aragorn said quietly. “Mayhap tomorrow you can tell us the rest of the poem.”

Sam nodded in agreement. The Halflings laid down quietly, cozying up to each other.

“Should you have told them with such a vivid description?”

Boromir looked at the Ranger in surprise. “Would you want them to be frozen in their place as the wargs attack? They must needs know what their enemy will look like. If I was wrong in what I said, I apologize.”

Aragorn did not like this diffident Boromir and said so.

”I am not in charge of this company, Aragorn. I know that as well as you do, and I know how to take orders. If that is my place whilst we travel, then I will take orders.” He turned and walked to the Elf’s side.

“Might I keep watch with you?”

“I think, Boromir, that it would be best if you rested. Your feat on the mountain was impressive, but you must be exhausted. We will need your sword arm strong when we are attacked.”

Boromir shook his head ruefully. “I will do as you order, Master Elf.” He walked back towards the fire, lay down upon the cold ground, and instantly fell asleep.

“Do not let your heart grow heavy, Master Thain.” Boromir sat next to the disconsolate Halfling, wondering what could have compelled Pippin to throw the stone.

“Don’t call me that. I deserve to be called stupid, or fool of a Took, as Gandalf likes to call me.”

“I have told you before, Peregrin,” Boromir said shortly. “The wizard and I do not see eye-to-eye.”

“Well,” Pip almost moaned, “He’s right this time. Why couldn’t I just leave things alone? Merry won’t even talk to me.”

“Merry is just surprised, that all is Mas… Peregrin.”

“He shouldn’t be! He knows me best of all. He knows I can’t help myself.” Tears threatened; Pippin wound his hand round and round his scarf trying to keep his eyes from betraying him.

“If Merry is like my brother, as you stated, then he will understand.”

“Do you think so, Boromir? I’d hate it most of all if something should happen to our friendship.” Now the tears fell.

Boromir, surprised and unsure of himself, took a deep breath and put his arm around the shoulder of the Halfling as he used to around Faramir’s shoulder. “Naught will happen to your friendship. He will forgive you, in the end. Your bravery will shine o’er such mistakes as you made today. And the stone, however loud, was small. Who could have known, who would have thought, that it would make such a noise as it fell into the well.”

Pippin turned and looked up at the warrior from Gondor. “I didn’t,” he said in wonder.

“Of course you didn’t, Peregrin. It was only a pebble after all. And wells are supposed to end in water. A small splash was all you could imagine hearing, not the everlasting rattle of it as it fell. I was surprised myself, once you told me what you had thrown in.”

“You were?” Pippin asked in astonishment.

“I was. I thought it must have been a great stone at the least, or some Orcish armour that you threw in. Not a pebble.”

“You are the greatest man I have ever known,” Pippin said in awe.

Boromir laughed heartily, then stopped at the look of hurt on the Halfling’s face. “I am naught but a soldier of Gondor, Master Thain. And a poor one at that, considering how we almost lost Frodo.”

“But I saw you fight that horrid water beast, along with Strider and Legolas. You didn’t run away.”

“Neither did you, Master Thain.” And Boromir’s tone was soft and gentle. “I saw Sam wield his sword; you also stayed by your friend, trying desperately to help him.”

“But I did nothing, Bor… Master Steward. I truly wanted to run.”

“You did not and that is the important thing.” Boromir was pleased that Pippin was once again speaking with ease. “You did not run when the wraiths that you told me of attacked Frodo on… Weathertop? Nor did you run when the wargs attacked us; I saw you with your blade, fighting fiercely. Nor did you run outside the walls of Moria, when that creature attacked Frodo. Do not you remember when you jumped the great chasm, just a short time ago? I could see fear in your eyes, as should be, for none should try such a feat without thought, but you o’ercame that fear and jumped. You have naught to be ashamed of, Master Thain. I am proud to call you friend.”

“Oh!” Pippin swallowed hard. “I too, Master Steward, am proud to call you friend.”

“Thank you, Master Thain,” Boromir said solemnly. “It is good to have a friend by my side again.”

At that, Pippin’s face fell. “I wish Merry was by my side.”

“I understand that, Peregrin. He will be. He will be like my brother,” and a sad smile lit the warrior’s face. “He will sulk for a time and let you know by the sight of his back that you are in disfavor,” at that Pippin laughed, “and then life will be as it always was. I have never had to say I was sorry to my brother. He understands and loves me enough to let me be foolish, stubborn, or proud at times. Not like my father.” Boromir bit his lip. “He is a better man than I.”

“No one could be better,” Pippin said with some acerbity. “I’ll knock his block off if he so much as says a word against you.”

“Now, Master Thain, I could not let you attack my brother. First, he is my brother and I love him, but secondly, you could hurt him and that would hurt both him and you. For I see in you a gentleness that is like unto him and I would not have that leave you.”

Pippin blushed. “I’m not gentle.”

“You are, Peregrin Took. You have been very gentle with me and helped me in this time of loneliness.”

~*~

“Last night, you said you have never had to say you were sorry to your brother? You never, ever told your brother you were sorry.”

“Nay. I said I did not have to. There is a difference. I have said I am sorry to him though the huge ‘I am sorry’s’ are reserved for my father.” Boromir’s eyes clouded over. “The last time I saw Faramir, I told him I was sorry. He… misunderstood me, my motives.”

“What happened?”

Boromir rubbed his eyes. “He had a dream. It is the reason I am here with you now. After many days, I had the same dream. Once we went to our father and told him the dream, it was decided that someone should go and follow the dream’s lead, find out what it meant, and if there was, indeed, hope for help for my City, to bring it back.”

Pippin kept quite still. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Oh! You want Strider to come to Minas Tirith?”

“Aye,” Boromir said quizzically. “And any who would help defend it.”

“Even a Hobbit?”

“Most especially a certain Hobbit, Master Thain,” and Boromir’s smile was wide and kind.

“But why did you have to apologize? It seems a good idea.”

“Because Faramir wished to take the journey upon himself. And I would not let him.”

“Oh, Boromir. Why would you ever do that?”

Boromir’s brows shot up. “Because he is my younger brother and would never have survived!”

The vehemence of Boromir’s reply made Pippin crawl back a little away from the man.

”I am sorry, Peregrin.” The man shook his head in wonder. “I still carry the guilt. He was so angry. And so we left each other, with words of anger on our lips. I tried to tell him why. He foolishly thought I did not think him capable. I did, honestly, but I feared for him, too. Is that so wrong, Peregrin, to want to protect someone you love?”

“Would he have survived, Boromir? Would he have been able to reach Rivendell?”

“I do not know. Many trials assailed me as I rode on the journey. I even lost my horse at Tharbad. I think Eomer of the Mark will probably kill me for that. They love their horses dearly. I do not know, but I would not put him in peril if there was any other way.”

“Merry, I know, would do the same. Though I was grateful he said nothing when I asked to join the Fellowship. Come to think of it, he let me come along from the very beginning. Maybe it’s better when friends are together; they become stronger?”

“We two could not go. Else I would have taken Faramir with me. But to leave my City and all of Gondor with both of her captains gone? Nay, I could not. I did not even take one company with me, so great is our need for warriors. So I took the quest and told Faramir I was sorry, but he did not accept it. Not at first. As I rode, not even out of our walled fields, I heard him call my name. I stopped and turned around and there he was, a smile on his face. We both dismounted and took each other in our arms. He kissed me on the forehead and asked the Valar to protect me.” Boromir’s smile widened as tears spilled. “He forgave me.”

“What did your father think?”

“My father sometimes lacks an understanding of my brother. He easily accepted my reasoning about Faramir not being up to the task. It was cruel of me to say, but I knew it would win him over, allow me to take the quest instead.”

Pippin smiled. “Is there a sadness between you two?”

Boromir looked in surprise at the bold question. He bit his lip. “I will not discuss, especially here in these black holes, my relations with my father. Suffice it to say, Peregrin, that he is a strong and wondrous man, but hard upon himself and his sons.”

“I’m sorry, Boromir. I didn’t mean…”

“Do not be sorry, Master Thain.” Boromir tried to lighten the mood. “It is not so difficult to understand, is it? Are your own dealings with your father always light and happy?”

“Of course not,” Pippin laughed quietly, “I seem to get myself into a lot of trouble too many times. You might not have noticed,” and Pippin laughed again.

Boromir joined him. At that very moment, Gimli stood and sang. Both Steward and Thain sat with their mouths opened wide, but at the end of it, Sam exclaimed how much he wanted to learn that song.

“Does Sam sing?” Boromir asked, surprised.

“He does lots of things,” Pippin said proudly. “He’s not just a gardener, you know.”

“I did not. And you are not just Merry’s cousin, Master Thain. Now tell me, what kind of trouble would such a stellar thain get into?”

“Why did not you go with Gimli and Frodo, Master Thain?”

“I wasn’t invited.”

“Has that stopped you before?”

Pippin, a sad smile upon his face, spoke very quietly. “Naught much has ever stopped me from doing anything. And now, Gandalf lies dead at the bottom of a hole.”

They had begun walking, far too soon after their grief, but Aragorn had urged them forward, taken the lead, given no thought to anyone’s state of mind. Inwardly, Boromir fumed, then willed himself calm. ‘‘Tis not the time to dwell on hard thoughts. Later, mayhap, when we have time to regroup, then I will speak to Aragorn. He did well, leading us away whilst others would have lain about, mired in their grief, but I find it hard. I must speak with him, but not now; now, Pippin needs me.’

“Gandalf chose to do what he had to do. None other could stand against that creature, not even our Elf. I have fought many beasts of the Enemy, but never have I seen such a thing.” He shivered.

“What will we do without him?”

“We will do as he asked us. We will follow Frodo until the time to split is upon us.”

Pippin looked at him in shock. “You wouldn’t leave us?”

Boromir stopped. “I came for help for my City and my people. Do you not remember that, Master Thain? I agreed to go with Frodo until my time to part. Aragorn is going to come with me, too. I know he will. You could join…” He saw the look of horror in Pippin’s eyes. “I have to save my people,” Boromir moaned.

“Is that what a Steward does, Boromir?”

“I confess I am not sure what a Steward does, not since joining this Fellowship. Before, it was all cut and clear as glass. I would fight the evil as I do now, I would govern my people, and I would help Gondor grow strong again. As my father has tried to do. But now, the world is larger to me.” He looked about him quizzically. “Now, do we have duty to others besides? Do I have duties to Elves and Dwarves? I had not thought so. I took care of Gondor, and helped Rohan, when the need arose, but now… How can I continue as I once was? There are alliances forged now that cannot be sundered. And now I see that others have fought the evil; others besides Gondor. It is a strange lesson to learn. Never have we, during our dealings with other men like those in Dale, and Dwarves like those in the Lonely Mountain, given thought to a duty towards them. Trade was our only thread. But I see now that that thread is long and not strong. If Gondor wants to remain strong, I think… I am sorry, Master Thain. I have gone off spinning in another direction. Let me tell you this, my brother had hoped to have Gandalf at our side when the final battle came. What will he think now? He will be distressed to know his hope has fallen.”

“You speak bitterly. I know you didn’t like Gandalf, Boromir, but…”

“I never said I did not like the man…”

“He wasn’t a man, was he, Boromir?”

Boromir looked at the Halfling in surprise. “I do not think so. And you have more wisdom than even I thought.” He smiled at Pippin’s embarrassed acknowledgement of the compliment. “Mayhap Faramir was correct. Mayhap there was more to the wizard than my father discerned. But I cannot believe that.” He shook his head, confusion filling it. “My father knows all things. He is a great man, Peregrin.”

“I feel the same way about my Da, but I know he makes mistakes sometimes.” Pip bit his lip. “I don’t love him any the less for it. ‘Fact, I think I love him more, knowing he struggles and such. There are many times when he works well into the night, trying to figure out what to do with the Hobbits that have moved into our land since the evil times have come. They come from the south, Boromir, frightened and telling tales of war and such. Our lands are not big enough for all of them. Most of them are poor and have fled with only the clothes on their backs. They need shelter and food and a way to earn a living. I don’t know what my Da is going to do with them. I wish I were with him, now, so that I might help. I think, now, I could help, Master Steward,” He smiled shyly. “ I think you have taught me something of what it is to be a Thain. I want to be like my Da, when I’m Thain.”

Boromir smiled warmly. “You will be the best the Shire has ever had, Master Thain. You are already the best friend I have ever had. I too wish I were with my father now. He also is hard-pressed, as is my brother.” Boromir’s brow furrowed. “The quest is important, but so are our people. I am grateful now that Aragorn urged us on. Time is too short.”

~*~

They found themselves waiting by the fire Gimli had made as Aragorn ministered to Sam and Frodo. Boromir asked Pippin the question he had asked while they were still in Moria. “Tell me, what kind of trouble would such a stellar thain get into?”

Pippin laughed while he brushed off the dirt and loose pieces of bark from firewood collecting; Boromir was glad to hear it. He was grateful that they were away from those dark mines, though he found, to his surprise, that he missed Gandalf, too. However, the air of sorrow was choking. The others looked at Pippin and Merry made his way over. “Are you getting into trouble again, Pippin?” Merry asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“I am not. I was just trying to remember one time when Da and I had words.”

“I can tell you that straight out,” Merry said with glee. “The time you tried to dam the river. He and his family were visiting mine,” Merry began turning his full attention to the man, “And he did a right good job of it too. It was spring; there were a lot of fallen limbs about, peeping out of the snow. But the river was running pretty furiously itself. Pip had talked some of the other tweens into helping him and they were soon covered with filth from the forest and wet as could be.”

Boromir looked at Pippin who was squirming uncomfortably.

“Would you believe that the whole thing went flying away and dragged a couple tweens with it? ‘Course, enough of us older ones were around, watching them make fools of themselves, and we were able to save them, but the Thain was quite put out, to say the least of it. How long were you grounded, Pip?”

“I wasn’t grounded. I was thrashed.”

“Your father hit you,” Boromir asked, incredulously.

“Of course. With a switch. It didn’t hurt much and he knew it. It was the shame of it. Knowing that I’d almost hurt folk by my not thinking.”

“You still don’t think, Pip,” Merry said kindly.

“Too much curiosity and courage,” Boromir said.

“Curiosity I’ll give you, but courage?” Merry laughed.

“I see it everyday we walk this path. I am proud to be amongst men of such courage.”

“Wait a moment, we’re not men!” Pippin cried. “We’re Hobbits.”

Boromir bowed his head in salute. “I meant Hobbits.” He smiled warmly.

“What about you, Boromir?” Merry asked. “Were you ever in your father’s bad graces?”

“If I told you all the times, we would never reach…” His heart fell as he thought of his City, but he had already decided to lighten the mood of the company, so he tried to think of the worst offense. “My brother and I were both always in trouble, it seems.” His brow furrowed. “I was the older, so my brother did much of what I asked of him. He was seven, I think. I wanted to see the world. I was to be made esquire in a month and knew my freedom would be curtailed. So I decided to explore the land near my mother’s people, Lossarnach. It was easy enough to get away. We walked to Harlond, no small feat in itself, and then proceeded past the docks towards Lossarnach. I had no idea how far it was. My father’s guard found us and returned us to him. He… I never saw my father so angry. Once he discerned the plan was mine, he sent Faramir to his bed, without supper for foolishly following me, and then… he thrashed me.” Boromir’s face grew red.

“But were you lost?” Pippin asked in surprise.

“We had been gone since early morning. My mother had passed some short time before. Father was… He thought we were lost, or taken, or worse yet, dead. I deserved every stroke of his hand.” Boromir wiped his brow. “I should not have asked this question. You are finding that I am not the stalwart warrior you think I am.”

“Nonsense!” Boromir shivered and looked about him. ‘Twas Gandalf’s voice he heard. But Gandalf was dead. He turned towards the sound.

“Nonsense,” the man said again. “You were a child, Boromir,” Aragorn said as he strode towards him. “It sounds like it was a good plan, a good adventure, one worthy of a warrior of Gondor.”

“You do not know my father, Aragorn.”

Boromir could not discern the meaning of Aragorn’s look. “Have you met him? Of course you have not. He expects only the best of his people. Especially his sons. I failed him.”

”I see it not as failure, Boromir. ‘Twould have been wiser to ask, but children think not of such things. As Pippin thought not to ask his father about building the dam. A child’s ways are different from an adult’s. Sometimes the path is glorious and sometimes it is fraught with danger. Nonetheless, a child should not be punished for ingenuity and curiosity. Especially the Steward’s own sons.”

“And the Thain’s,” Boromir answered quietly. “I had not thought of it in those terms.”

“Tell me, Master Thain, besides the feats of bravery that you have accomplished on this Quest, was there a time before when you showed such courage?”

Pippin looked at the man in surprise. “Do you mean besides sleeping on a perch in the trees? That was indeed strange.”

“But you survived the talan and no one fell off, as you feared.”

They sat, the two of them, and watched the sky. Finally, Pippin answered. “One time,” he whispered. “When I was most afraid.” He smiled at Boromir, “Though I have had many worse fears lately.”

Boromir smiled. “Please, continue.”

“It had snowed very hard; the ground was covered with it. It’s rare we get snow of any measure in the Shire, Master Steward, but for a whole two days and a night it snowed. When we were finally able to get out to play, we decided to walk to the Green-Hill country and try some sledding. When we got there, the forest was beautiful. Birds sang, the sun shone bright; we were looking forward to a full day’s fun. Packed lunches and everything.

“It was just a little past lunch. We’d eaten just about everything and put our packs with the leftovers at the bottom of the hill we were sledding on. Then, we all climbed to the top and started again. Some of the littler Hobbits were getting cold. I was hoping we could sled for at least another hour. I…” Pippin shuddered visibly.

Boromir put his hand on the Halfling’s shoulder. “Mayhap you will tell me at some other time,” he said kindly.

”What better time than in this beautiful place, with the Elves all about us to protect us, and a friend at my side! I want to tell you, Boromir.”

Boromir frowned at the name. “This is a weighty thing upon you, Master Thain. ‘Twould seem to me better to speak of it at another time.”

“No, Master Steward,” Pippin smiled, his old self again. “I just could hear the scream again, in my mind, and it frightened me.”

“A scream?”

“Yes. I was getting to that part. I was still at the top of the hill when suddenly I heard one of my friends scream. I looked to the bottom of the hill, and there, just sticking out of the forest, was a great wolf. After I’ve fought off wargs, you’d think I could handle the memory of one lone wolf, wouldn’t you, Master Steward?”

Boromir smiled.

“I jumped on my sled and flew to the bottom of the hill. Looking around, I found a stick, a pretty fair sized one, and stepped between the wolf and my friend. I held the stick up high. I waved my friends away, hoping they would head towards home. They didn’t; they stayed, but behind me. I’d been told about wolves in the Shire; there had been a blizzard once, a long time ago, and they had attacked people. But I never thought I’d see one, much less have to fight one. I was terrified.”

“As well you should be. How old were you at the time, Master Thain?”

“I was almost twenty-two. We weren’t allowed to go too far from home, yet, but the forest was within limits. I stood there, Boromir, and held the stick up and shook. I know I did for I heard my teeth chattering. But I was the oldest of our group and I had to take care of them.”

“I know of what you speak.”

“It was huge, Boromir. Really much bigger than I was. I didn’t know what to do – charge it or try to run. I knew I couldn’t run. It could probably run a lot faster than me. And what if there were other ones nearby? I could be quick, but not that quick. ‘Course I was as thin as a willow-wand at the time, and much quicker than I am now.”

Boromir laughed.

“And,” Pippin smiled, “Master Steward, it was high time for afternoon tea.”

Boromir roared.

“We stood like that for a bit, seemed like long enough to chase dragons, but the wolf never moved and neither did I. At last, I heard a great crashing behind me. One of my friends had run, run straight back to Tuckburrow and brought some adults with him. The wolf heard the noise too and ran back into the forest. The adults chased them, while one or two stayed back with us. I just sat down in the snow, trying to catch my breath. I wanted to cry, Boromir, I was so afraid.”

“But you did not and you protected your people.”

“I did,” and Pippin turned to Boromir and smiled. “That is what a Thain does, isn’t it?”

“It is,” and Boromir gave him a great awkward hug.

“What’s this?” Aragorn smiled as he strolled down the hill towards them. “Comfort is not needed in these woods. The Lady watches over all.”

“Not when you’re telling a tale that’s scary,” Pippin smiled back.

“Ah! Ghost stories, perhaps?”

“No, really stories.”

“Tell us one yourself, Aragorn,” Boromir prodded. “One where you showed your bravery.”

Aragorn looked at him quizzically.

“I am not jesting, Aragorn. Perhaps when you were younger. Did you not do deeds of bravery?”

Aragorn gestured for permission to sit and Boromir nodded.

Aragorn looked rather shy about telling a tale, so Pippin nudged him. “Won’t hurt you. I finished mine and look! I’m still here!”

“So you are, Pippin. But I think now is not the time to tell tales of darkness, for is not valour usually needed in times of darkness? I think I would prefer to tell a tale of a little fox I once knew.”

Merry walked up and sat down. “A fox, Strider?”

“A fox, and a young one at that, Merry. It was quite some time ago, during my training in Imladris. My brothers were out on a hunt…”

“You have brothers?” Pippin exclaimed.

“I do. Two that are as brothers to me; close in love, not blood. You met them while you were in Imladris. Elladan and Elrohir.”

Pippin’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t know they were your brothers? Though we didn’t see much of them, always off searching…” Pippin bit his lip.

“‘Twas a hard time, Master Thain,” Boromir stated quietly, “but we can still talk about it. At least the parts of Imladris that were more to a Hobbit’s liking.”

“Like the food and the song and such,” Merry smiled.

“Aye. And the friendships started.” Boromir smiled at Pippin.

“Go on with your story, Strider,” Merry apologized for the interruption.

“I was quite young at the time and given to exploration.” Aragorn smiled at Boromir who started, then smiled back. “We were supposed to be learning the tracking of animals. Our instructor had laid down trails for us to try to follow. Each of us, there were ten in the class if I remember rightly, had to follow the trail set for them. We were taken across the Stone Bridge and set off to find our quarry. I set off to follow mine, headed northward towards the Main Path, when I heard something in the distance and off to my left. The sound seemed to come from the glade near what we now call Thorin's Path. I stopped, looked around for my instructor, but did not see him. The glade was close, only a few hundred yards from my original trail and within the safe sector. I walked slowly and carefully closer and closer. The sound, of course, increased as I approached the glade. There was no one about. I considered stopping and telling someone of where I had taken off to but could not find anyone close. I did not want to stop else I might lose it.”

Boromir nodded his head in agreement. Pippin, noting it, nodded too.

“Well, I crept into the glade on my hands and knees, hoping I would not disturb whatever it was making the noise. I need not have been concerned. It was a small fox, newly weaned, and it was caught in a hideous trap. Its foot was torn and bleeding. I was able to creep quite close; it was too hurt to struggle when I took it in my arms. I released the trap and wiped some of the blood away. The foot was not too badly injured. I knew, given time, the little fox would be well, but I took it back with me to Imladris. I was scolded quite thoroughly for not finishing my task, for leaving the group without telling anyone, and for bringing a wild animal back to Elrond’s House. But,” and once again Aragorn smiled at Boromir, “I deemed it a fine adventure.”

“What about the fox?” Pippin asked.

Aragorn smiled. “The fox healed quickly enough under Lord Elrond’s care and ran away into the great wide world.”

“Ah, I’m glad,” Pippin smiled. “Now, what are we going to do about elevenses?”

“You go ahead of us, Master Thain, and warn the Elves that two hungry men will soon descend upon them,” Boromir said, catching Aragorn’s eye in the process.

“You’ll follow?”

“We will.”

“Then off I go and after that, I think I’ll need some sleep.”

Boromir covered his mouth with his hand to stifle the laugh as Pippin and Merry loped up the lawn.

“Did you like the story, Boromir?”

“I did. But who set the trap?”

“Ah. I see you did not miss that part. I never did find out. Though Lord Elrond quizzed me most thoroughly about footprints and such about. I was too busy being slightly afraid and trying to find the cause of the sounds; I obliterated most of the tracks of whomever set it. Lord Elrond, I think, was more put out about that part of my adventure, than the bringing the fox back.” He frowned in thought. “I never did ask.”

“Hmm. So Imladris is not quite as protected as Lord Elrond would have us imagine.”

“Nowhere in all of Middle-earth is quite as protected as we would imagine or hope. You must know that yourself, Boromir. What tale do you have to tell?”

“None.” The man stood up and walked up the hill.

Aragorn ran after him, took his arm, and turned Boromir towards him. “Are you angry because I did not tell you about the traps? I told you the truth: I do not know.”

“I am not angry.”

“Then why do you leave?”

“I am tired and hungry.”

“Boromir?”

“The tales I have to tell all end in death and misery. I would keep them hidden else the Halflings grow fearful. I cannot tell them I am the great warrior they think. My men died about me, defending me, defending Gondor,” he waved his hand furiously, “defending the Halflings even. How do I tell them such stories? I will not hide the information they need to survive our Quest, but they do not need to know of the horrors of the war that lies before us. Not now. Not here.”

“Boromir.” Aragorn pulled the man closer to him. “You are not alone in this. Nor in the defense of Middle-earth. I thought you realized that at the Council.”

“It is well and good to speak of hope when in the midst of a land rich in sorcery, but there is no hope,” Boromir stopped and drew a ragged breath. “There is no hope if you do not accompany me to Minas Tirith. Does that answer your question, Aragorn? Can you tell me, even now, that you will fulfill your promise, your destiny, and fight by my side to save my City, my people?”

He turned quickly as he heard the Halfling call his name. “I am coming, Master Thain. I will take my leave now, Aragorn.” He walked up the hill feeling Aragorn’s eyes following him. He sighed and Pippin looked up.

“Everything all right between you and Strider?”

“It is, Master Thain. As men of Gondor, we have many things to discuss. But right now, my stomach tells me that we will find a fine repast waiting for us. Is that not what you need?”

“I do,” Pippin said firmly. “And you at my side. I’ve already let Merry get a head start. Can we hurry?”

Boromir laughed, shades of anger and frustration falling off him as the leaves off the mallyrn.

~*~

I hesitated to use the term 'ghost' but found Gandalf using the term in FOTK, Chapter 2, The Shadow of the Past - so the Hobbits did know what a ghost was.

Pippin stood straight and tall, as he had when he served the Steward. His eyes looked north, but saw only the thin strip of the river winding its way towards the Falls of Rauros. The Pelennor lay before him, ravaged by war yet filled with men, animals and tents. Though high up on the escarpment, Strider’s tent was visible. He wished the man were here with him – now. He held onto the parapet; his fingers dug into the cold, white marble as tears fell, unchecked.

A sound came from behind him, but he had given up being a warrior and ever wary, so he didn’t turn. A hand rested on his shoulder. He gasped, remembering Boromir’s hand ruffling Frodo’s hair on Caradhras, on Gimli’s shoulder in Moria, on his own as he stepped from the boat the last time – he choked back a sob – at Parth Galen.

“Pippin?” The soft voice held only the deepest concern.

“He never told me the tales of his own bravery, Strider. He stopped talking to me once we reached the rapids.”

“I know. He was not himself. But you saw his bravery, his loyalty, his love for you first hand, for nothing could be braver than what he did for you and Merry.”

Silence. “Pippin?”

“I failed him.”

“In what way?”

“I couldn’t save his father. I tried, Strider, I tried as hard as I could, but he locked me out.”

Aragorn heard the teeth chattering as the Hobbit tried to stop the sobs from escaping. He squeezed Pippin’s shoulder. “You saved his brother.”

Quiet sniffs sounded. At last, Pippin rubbed his arm across his eyes and nose. “That is what a Thain does, isn’t it?”

“It is,” said Aragorn.

With a strangled cry, Pippin threw himself into Aragorn’s arms and sobbed till his heart began to heal.

I know so many of you wanted more... but yesterday, as I finished the chapter on the slopes of Caras Galadhon, I knew it was the end. Boromir, once they started their trip on the river, was struggling so hard to survive and not give in to the voices. He would not have the strength to speak of light things. Though Pippin, I'm sure, tried.

Thank you for reading and especially to those who responded. These stories sometimes can wipe an author out. I cried most of the afternoon as little bits and pieces of the epilogue (which did not even come close to what I thought it was going to be when I started this thing) - well, as the ending came to me.

Again, my deepest thanks and back to 10,000 years else Denethor - who had wanted a cameo appearance in this one - else Denethor throw me off the parapet!

Agape