Whenever I re-read The Fellowship of the Ring I wonder what would have happened if Boromir had arrived only a bit later at Rivendell and also, later on, what if they had listened to Boromir and just would have taken the Gap of Rohan! That's where the idea for this story came from (also I'm in denial of some canon things...). It's a mix of book and movie-verse.

Blackheart Dracon: sorry, it took so long! Thank you for your patience. I hope you'll like the beginning (even though it's still miles away from where I want this to go).:)

Disclaimer: this is all Tolkien's fault.

Chapter 1 – Of Hobbits and Men

Pippin covered his head with one of the impossibly soft and fluffy pillows of Rivendell and tried to fall asleep. It was no use.

THOMP. THOMP. THOMP.

Silence.

THOMP. THOMP. THOMP. THOMP.

"By every carrot that I ever stole, there must be a congregation of Proudfoots assembled up there!"

Enough being enough, Pippin hopped out of the large bed and stormed out of his room in direction of the stairs, not bothering about changing his night-clothes.

Best to remind them what time it is and that they should be in bed like the rest of decent people!

Having reached the room directly above his own, he summed up all of his Took-courage and knocked on the wooden door. The loud footsteps stopped for a moment before they came nearer and the door was opened with an impulsive jerk.

"What is it?"

Pippin momentarily forgot everything he had wanted to accuse the owner of this room of, when he was barked at by a huge, dark-haired man. A very angry looking man, who looked like he could rip a hobbit into half with ease.

Said man's gaze stared at thin air for a second, before he looked down and spotted Pippin. He must have given a fairly pathetic impression, because his eyes became much friendlier all of a sudden.

"Aha! Another halfling, I see. I had no idea there would be such an assembly of you here."

It looked as if Pippin was trying to make extra-big smoke rings, like Gandalf, except that he wasn't smoking; nor talking for that matter, though it can be assumed that he was trying to.

The man frowned, apparently worried that he might have damaged the little creature in some way with his violent door-opening and loud exclamation.

"Are you all right, little one?"

A big pair of green eyes widened and finally Pippin found his voice.

"I'm not little, you are simply terribly tall!"

The man gave a big laugh, proportional to his size, and somehow, from that moment on, Pippin knew what a big heart was hidden beneath all that pride and boldness.

"Well then, forgive my lack of manners and let me introduce myself. I am Boromir, son of Denethor, the steward of Gondor."

He placed his hand over his heart and nodded gravely.

"Nice to meet you, Boromir! I'm Peregrin Took, son of Paladin Took, but you can just call me Pippin."

He placed his hands in his pockets and bowed so enthusiastically that his head nearly slammed to the floor.

There was another bout of laughter, then Boromir suddenly looked confused.

"And to what do I owe the honour of your visit, if I may ask?"

"Oh, that!" By now, Pippin had completely forgotten about his previous anger and frustration. "I was simply wondering who was making such a thunderous noise. You see, my room's directly beneath yours."

Boromir blinked a few times, then thought of what he had been doing for the last twenty minutes, and smiled ruefully.

"I'm truly sorry about that. I had no idea my pacing would be cumbersome to someone else."

"Well, it's all right, just stop it!" Pippin suggested good-naturedly. "What were you doing that for anyway? I mean, it's not like they imprisoned you in here."

A sad smile appeared on Borormir's even features. "No, they didn't. But now that I'm here, I'm starting to have doubts whether I really should be."

He paused and saw that Pippin's face was crumpled in confusion and worry. So he put it simpler and not quite so worrying – something he had practised all his life for his little brother.

"Today's conversation with Lord Elrond was very tiring. He told me about the things they discussed in yesterday's council. And I miss my home."

"Oh!" Pippin's face lit up in understanding. "Frodo told us all about it. Well, not all. Actually, he may think we didn't notice, but he left out some important stuff. Merry and I eavesdropped, but you mustn't tell anyone," he added in a conspiratorial tone.

"Uh. I won't. How many halflings are here exactly?"

Boromir wasn't sure whether to be flattered by this display of confidence or alarmed at the lack of security at this supposedly secret council.

"Just the five of us. Bilbo's been here for a long time of course, but Frodo, Sam, Merry, and me, we all arrived together just a while ago." Pippin shrugged, maybe a little disappointed at the lack of hobbit sense and hobbit entertainment at their current location, no matter how beautiful and awe-inspiring it might be. "But why don't you go home? And where is your home?"

It would be an understatement to say that Boromir was flabbergasted at the tiny creature's curiosity and lack of decorum. He had never met someone like that. The only person who came to mind was his brother, but at the age of eight.

"I hopefully shall ride back home soon, now that my riddle is solved. The White City lies far away from here, in the south, and a bit to the east. Have you never seen it on a map?"

The thought that someone in the west of Middle Earth didn't know where Minas Tirith was, nagged a bit at Boromir's pride. He had spoken about many people not knowing what he and the soldiers of the White City were sacrificing in order to keep them safe; but to think that there was a whole race that didn't even know of the existence of Gondor was pure mockery.

Pippin didn't seem to see it as quite so dramatic.

"Probably. There's an old one hanging in the Smials, but I never studied it. That's something for Bilbo and Frodo. But as far as I understood it, he will be going south too. Maybe I can visit you in Minas Tirith some day, and then you can show me how ignorant I was."

Once more, Boromir was shocked. Just when he had thought he could classify this unknown being and put a label on it, it surprised him further with a display of astuteness that disproved his former assumption. He felt embarrassed and compelled to apologise again, but didn't know what to say. This was a situation far from ordinary for him.

"I'd be honoured to. But excuse me now, Master Pippin; I should get some rest, and you probably too."

"Yes, certainly. Your pacing quite wore me out!"

The cheeky words barely left his mouth before he had already rounded the corner towards the stairs. Boromir briefly wondered whether the hobbit had sensed his awkwardness and had tried to tease him as much as to cheer him up. But then he just shook his head in incredulity and closed the door.

The next day, Pippin woke up not knowing exactly what to do. Now, that was no strange thing in itself – back in The Shire he never made plans going further than breakfast. The new aspect was that this suddenly bothered him. After nagging so much that Elrond and Gandalf had finally allowed him to accompany Frodo on his dangerous task, he found that he didn't want to think more closely on what he had begged for. He'd rather set out at once, but of course they had to wait for the return of the messengers that had been sent out.

Better to go out and explore this place then, than to lie in bed and ruminate!

He hopped out of bed at once, dressed in a topsy-turvy manner, and rushed out to drag Merry to breakfast.

Two hours later (a hasty breakfast by hobbit standards), Merry and Pippin strolled through the lush gardens of Rivendell. However, they had absolutely no idea what to do.

Explore every corner of the house? Check. Walk, then run through all of the gardens? Check. Annoy Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo? Check. Talk to the elves in order to get enigmatic answers to their questions? Check.

"Now Merry, I really can't think of anything else! If Gandalf hadn't told us to not disturb him, I'd even be so bored as to bother him. I had really thought there would be more to do here!"

Pippin flailed his arms around listlessly to emphasise his boredom.

"Well, I wouldn't mind having a look at the old maps and books in the library, but I guess–"

The enthusiasm of Pippin's negation couldn't wait for Merry to finish his sentence.

"NO! Nonononononononono no! You can't do that to me!"

"Very well." Merry put his hands in the pockets of his waistcoat and wore that smug expression Pippin hated so much. "Make a better proposition then. If you don't, I'll go!"

"That's not fair!"

The lower lip trembling that Pippin sported was known as the famous Pip's Pout throughout The Shire, but unfortunately for him it didn't work on Merry. He had become immune to it a long time ago.

"Don't even make the effort to try the puppy eyes, Pip, you know it doesn't work on me either."

Pouting turned into scowling. If it had been hard for Pippin to think of something to do before, now his frustration made it nearly impossible.

"How about we try to climb that big pagoda?" He suggested hopefully.

Merry frowned deeply. "We tried that yesterday and I nearly broke my foot!"

"All right then… What about stealing some food from the kitchen?"

"Pippin! We tried that the day before yesterday and they said if we did it again they'd tell Gandalf."

"Why, I had no idea you were such a coward, dear cousin!"

Both hobbits glared at each other for a moment.

"I'm not a coward!"

"Yes, you are!"

"Am not!"

"I assure you!"

"Take it back!"

"Never!"

"Take it back or I'll–"

"Shut up!"

Pippin blinked rapidly in succession.

"You'll shut up?"

Merry looked unsure for a second, as if considering the possibility that he really had said something completely different from what he had intended to say, and in a much deeper voice too.

"You should!" The deep voice said again, but this time it was accompanied by Boromir's form appearing around the corner of the main house.

"Uh-oh," was all Pippin could utter as a warning to his cousin.

"I was assured by Lord Elrond that Imladris was a peaceful house and a haven of tranquillity for everyone. But somehow it doesn't quite live up to that," Boromir grumbled at them, though Pippin could tell that he had a hard time keeping his face stern, as if part of the situation seemed to amuse him actually.

"You're as grumpy as Gandalf!"

Pippin covered his mouth with two hands, but it was too late. The words had been quicker than his reason, and now all he could do was to stare up at Boromir in shock, while Merry stared at his cousin in perfect imitation. But funny enough, the explosion they both were waiting for didn't come.

"Gandalf?" Boromir looked from him to Merry and back, half expecting another halfling to jump out of the shrubbery around them. "Who's Gandalf?"

Merry gave his younger cousin a significant look, but obviously he hadn't learned from his mistake and opened his mouth again.

"Why, you don't know Gandalf? Everyone knows him! He's our guide and friend, and he should be wandering around here somewhere. Merry, did you see Gandalf today?"

The addressed hobbit was silent for a while – maybe in a fruitless attempt of demonstrating to Pippin how it was done – and hesitated when he finally spoke. He wasn't completely sure of his friend's intentions, which disturbed him.

"No, I have no idea where he is. But I suspect he's either with Lord Elrond or Bilbo." Then his eyes grew wide and he grinned maliciously at Pippin. "But maybe if I take a quick walk to the library, I might find him there, or could inquire further!"

And before Pippin had time to exhale the enormous amount of air he had just taken in with his lungs; Merry had already vanished inside the house, his bare feet making mischievous (or so it seemed to Pippin) pitty-pat sounds on the marble floor.

"You will regret this!" Pippin called after he was already gone from sight, but a distinct cackle could still be heard from far away.

"What was that about?" Boromir asked with a, by now, more confused than annoyed frown.

"Nothing. He's just taken the first chance to get to his beloved library and leave me all alone to die of boredom." He sighed, and sat down on a nearby stone bench, his hairy feet dangling in the air.

Boromir studied the little hobbit, and wasn't surprised at all at the quick change of mood. Ever since the last night he had had the feeling that being puzzled was a perpetual side effect of dealing with these strange creatures. He hadn't yet figured out whether this was a good or a bad thing, though.

So, for lack of knowing what exactly to do now, he just sat down next to the sulking hobbit. He had just returned from a long walk around the terrain, but contrary to his original intention, he wasn't feeling any wiser or calmer than before. His future path seemed to be just as unclear and dark.

"So you're bored, little one? How can that be, when there's so much wonder around you?"

Pippin's sadness was made clear by the fact that he didn't leap up at the nickname. "I don't know, I probably should be out of my head, just like Sam. But I've never been one for sitting inside all day and living on poems and old manuscripts."

Boromir chuckled, which made Pippin look up with a shy grin. The company of different races was new to him as well, and Boromir was only the second human he was getting to know. He found it quite marvellous how much he differed from Aragorn: while the latter seemed to be always balanced and calm, with a somewhat mysterious aura surrounding him, Boromir was loud and prone to passionate emotions, wearing his heart on his sleeve.

"Me neither, to be honest. Originally, my brother wanted to come here, but I convinced him to let me go instead, since the road would be long and dangerous. But I think he would have loved this place much more than I, and would have appreciated it more. He always dreamed of seeing elves and far off places." He stopped with a sad look in his eyes.

Pippin could see that the thought of his brother pained him, but he was also curious to learn more about him. "Is he like you? Big and strong and kind?"

Boromir wasn't unused to getting compliments at all, but for some reason the innocent frankness of this little halfling caught him off guard. "Umm."

Pippin made a mental note that humans blushed just like hobbits did and that he should like to try and study the same reaction on elves and dwarves.

"He's not as tall as I am, if you mean that. He's no warrior either, although he certainly can handle a sword. But in size of brain he definitely beats me."

"Don't say that! Well, I can't judge, since I don't know him, but you shouldn't be hard on yourself! My Ma always says, 'Be decent to everyone, including yourself." Pippin burst out.

Boromir smiled leniently. "Your mother must be a very wise woman."

"Well, she also made me eat soap once, when I was swearing, so I'm not quite sure." Pippin screwed up his snub nose at the memory.

"Only convinces me more."

"Hey!"

Their merry laughter was interrupted by an echo of Pippin's words.

"Hey!"

Merry had returned with company, and looked a little put out that Boromir and Pippin weren't actually crying their eyes out at him having left. But his face lit up when he saw their shocked expressions. "Yes, indeed, I found Gandalf. You didn't think that I would, did you?"

"Peregrin Took!" The old wizard boomed. "Why did you send your nerve-racking cousin to drag me all the way out here, away from my important studies?"

Pippin was reduced to making invisible smoke-rings once more. But this time it wasn't Boromir doing the shouting, so he spoke up for him instead.

"Excuse me. It was actually on my behalf that... Merry here volunteered to go and find you. I am Boromir, son of Denethor, steward of Gondor." He bowed deeply. "I had told the halflings that I haven't met you yet and they thought it was a shame. They think most highly of you."

Now it was Gandalf who didn't know what to say. He humphed and grumbled for a while before returning to intelligible speech. "Welcome to Imladris, Lord Boromir. My last visit in the White City was rather rushed, I'm afraid, and I had no time to spare for you or your brother."

Boromir looked at him in confusion for a moment, but then recognition spread over his features. "Why, you're Mithrandir! I had no idea you went by the name of Gandalf. It has been a long time indeed since I last saw you, although Faramir never stopped wishing he could be your apprentice."

Gandalf smiled like an old man, who was reminded of his grandson. But he didn't pursue the topic. "Lord Elrond told me about your riddle. I hope you're satisfied with the solution he gave you?"

All sense of wonder vanished from Boromir's face in an instant. "Satisfied with the solution, but not with its meaning. I still think it's foolish to–"

"You shouldn't talk about this out here! Even in this place of safety it has become dangerous to speak too freely," the wizard interrupted him.

There was a moment of silence when everyone seemed to be listening for some kind of confirmation of Gandalf's words. However, the wind whispered as usual, the leaves fell softly, and the birds sang as they had done every day.

"Aragorn!"

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