A/N: Still don't own the characters.

Boromir experiences hobbit induced hunger...


Boromir's stomach growled in protest as he took the last bite of his scrawny breakfast rations. He glared at it, as if that would cause the growing hunger pains to subside out of fear for the intensity in his eyes. Unfortunately, his stomach was acting rather fearless on this particular day and continued to protest despite Boromir's persistent glares. It wasn't as though it were his fault that the halflings had eaten most of the food before he arrived…it was only his fault for showing up later then they had.

Next to him one of the halflings was asking Gandalf and the man across the table (Strider, he said his name was…) if they would accompany the rest of the hobbits on a tour of Rivendell. Apparently, the twin sons of Elrond had grown quite fond of the little hobbits and had taken it upon themselves to entertain their guests while they remained in Imladris. Yesterday, the twins had supposedly taken the halflings Merry and Pippin to the library and showed them maps and records of Middle Earth. The trip had proven quite boring for the cousins, so the twins had agreed to make today more interesting for them and take the smaller folk on a venture around Rivendell.

What the twins saw in the young hobbits, Boromir had no idea; for they were a queer folk and their ability to consume vast amounts of food still astonished him.

Perhaps they find their merrymaking amusing? Boromir thought. From what he had learned from his tutors as a child, elves were fond of mischief and clever jests. Perhaps the twin sons of Elrond had seen the same fondness for merriment in the two hobbits and decided to befriend them. Eru knows they have a light of mischief in their eyes, Boromir thought again, glancing at the halfling next to him as he discreetly tried to drop morsels of food down the back of his cousin's shirt.

The idea of food being used for such folly purposes was beginning to make Boromir sour, so he turned his attention instead to the man across the table from him while attempting to ignore the protests from growling of his stomach. Strider, he said his name was. Boromir wondered what his real name was, and why he'd bother concealing it. Maybe he's an outlaw, he thought before quickly pushing the thought aside. No, he dresses like one of those Rangers from the North I've seen wandering around every once in a while back in Gondor. Though the Rangers rarely traveled so far south as Gondor, Boromir could remember seeing a few walking around the city in their long cloaks and donning the six-pointed star in more recent years.

Rangers. What was the other name for them? Ah, yes. Dúnedain. Men of the West, descendants of Númenor, Boromir recalled as Strider responded to the disappointed Merry and Pippin that he would not be able to join them on their tour of Rivendell.

"I have other things to do today, Master Merry," Strider said, casting the halfling a sympathetic look, "and besides, I have already seen all there is to see in this fair place."

"What do you mean, Strider? Have you been here before?" Another hobbit asked from across the table. Boromir was pretty sure he had introduced himself as Sam.

"I grew up in Rivendell, Sam, before I became a Ranger," Strider laughed, "and I need not see more of it."

The hobbits marveled at this for some time, wondering how Strider came to live in the land of the elves, but the man merely disregarded their questions saying that he had lived in Rivendell as a child, and nothing more.

A curious man indeed, Boromir thought as he looked longingly at the food that Pippin was now shaking out of the back of his shirt, and even more curious is his ability to interact so easily with these little folk from the Shire.

A cough from the head of the table suddenly broke Boromir's focus on the crumbs flying from Pippin's cloak, and he looked up to see Mithrandir staring at him expectantly.

"Yes?" He said, noticing also that the halflings and the man were staring at him as well.

"I said, Master Boromir, what brings thee to Rivendell? No doubt you are here for the council of Elrond, but what else sends you this way?" The wizard asked, raising his bushy eyebrows at the warrior.

"My father sent me," Boromir responded, "to try and decipher a dream that came to me and my brother also." He looked down at the horn at his side, remembering his father's orders when he had learned of his sons' dreams. Do not fail me…we must keep Gondor out of the hands of the enemy! Denethor had said. Boromir tried to ignore the thought.

"I see. And how fares Faramir?" Gandalf asked.

"He fares well. Mostly he is leading missions to Osgiliath and Ithilien, to try and keep the defenses against the enemy as strong as possible."

"Very good. Very good indeed," Gandalf said, leaning back in his chair and looking at the ceiling. He remained that way for a very long time, until a horn blast in the distance claimed his attention along with everyone else at the table.

"The council of Elrond has been summoned," Strider said, beginning to rise from his seat at the table, lending a hand to the hobbit next to him who seemed to also be attending the council, though Boromir wasn't sure what business he could have there. Gandalf also rose, staring into the distance towards where the horn had come from. Boromir lifted himself from his seat slowly, trying to ignore the hobbits next to him, who were still eating, and followed the Ranger and wizard to the council.

And he was still hungry.


A/N: Concerning Boromir: I know the hobbits weren't supposed to meet him until the Council, but I liked the idea of them meeting him at breakfast (the first one, not second breakfast) and him being baffled by their eating habbits. Also, Merry and Pippin's connection to the twins is entirely fantasized, but they had been in Rivendell for a few days and I'd like to think that they made some friends while there. :)