As the day was coming to an end, Pippin sat on the steps outside Elainthea's house waiting anxiously for Grealle to return. Their house was located in the center of the village of Heartstone. The homes in the village were made of stone slabs; some of the buildings were round, and others were rectangular and all of the homes in Heartstone faced toward the center of the village square.
Pippin spent the day by himself. Elainthea and the children kept their distance after she explained to them that Pippin's heart was wounded, and that he needed time to be alone. He was grateful to her for that. Pippin wanted to know more about Grealle and his family, but only after Boromir was found. For now he was glad that he was alone with his thoughts and his feelings of loss.
Not long after, Pippin caught sight of Grealle walking toward him. He was a mountain of a man, towering over his two companions. Grealle shook his neighbors' hands, and bid them goodnight as Pippin ran to meet him.
"Any sign of Boromir?" Pippin asked anxiously.
"He is not found as of yet, friend. We only found dead or dying orcs. The repulsive creatures have polluted our lake, but none of the abominations live now," Grealle said, shaking his head in disgust.
Pippin's heart sank, and a sob caught in his throat.
"Do not be troubled, friend. We will go again in the morn," Grealle said quickly.
"Can't we go now?" Pippin asked.
"It is not safe to be out when the day is done. Come first light, we shall search once again."
"I'm coming with you!"
Grealle smiled. "Of course you are."
"Thank you," Pippin said. "Thank you for helping me."
Grealle sighed and placed his huge hand on Pippin's shoulder. "You are most welcome. Now, I am anxious to learn how you and those creatures came to be in our lake."
"I promise to tell you everything...," Pippin said and stopped in mid-sentence, remembering the ring. "Well, almost everything. But please, not until we find Boromir."
"Then I shall wait until the proper time," Grealle responded, leading Pippin into the house.
Sleep eluded Pippin that night. How could he think of sleep when his injured friend was still missing? As dawn approached, painting the sky with brilliant shades of red, purple and gold, he dressed quickly and hurried outside to wait for Grealle. While watching the spectacular sunrise, he bowed his head, and said a silent prayer for Boromir.
Grealle's neighbors, Brasen and Stelle, silently stood beside Pippin. The hobbit sensed their presence and looked up to see the two men smiling down at him. "It is a fine new day, friend," Brasen said.
Pippin gave Brasen a wan smile. He noticed the two men carried small axes tucked into their belts. Moments later Grealle stepped out of his house munching on an apple and a block of cheese. Pippin saw that Grealle also carried an axe in his belt, and he wondered if the tools were being used as weapons or for another grisly purpose.
The huge man handed Pippin a small bundle wrapped in a thin cloth. "Thank you." he said and took the food, but he didn't have much of an appetite, which was very unusual for the hobbit since his stomach was normally a bottomless pit.
Grealle studied the Halfling. "Are you ready, friend? Will you be able to maintain?"
"Don't worry about me. I'll keep up." Pippin said earnestly.
Grealle smiled, and then led his companions toward the lake. Half hour later the four men arrived at the edge of the water. Pippin's heart sank; the lake was massive. How would they ever find Boromir?
"Pippin and I will search the southern bank. Brasen, you and Stelle search the north side. We shall meet here at midday," Grealle said.
"May we have success," Brasen responded, and led Stelle to the north end of the lake.
"What do you call this lake?" Pippin asked as he followed Grealle.
"It has been named the Lake of Moria. But, that is a long tale best told over ale and a pipe," Grealle said, smiling.
Pippin would have been delighted at the mere thought of a mug and a smoke, but he couldn't think of enjoying anything until they found Boromir.
They searched the southern bank carefully for over an hour. Pippin was able to keep up with Grealle but only because he ran behind the huge man. Finally out of breath, Pippin came to a halt, his hands resting on his thighs. As he stood erect, he saw something glittering in the water. It was Boromir's sword!
"Grealle!" Pippin shouted.
He ran into the water, took the heavy sword in his hands, and searched the surroundings with his eyes. Nearly a hundred feet ahead, he spotted a figure virtually hidden underneath a clump of shrubs.
"There! It's Boromir!" Pippin yelled.
Grealle glanced in the direction Pippin was pointing. He caught sight of a man halfway submerged in the water, and the big man ran toward the bushes as fast as he could.
Pippin reached Boromir as Grealle was pulling the injured man out of the lake. He held Boromir's hand as Grealle laid the Gondorian gently down on the sandy shore. Boromir's skin was deathly pale and his lips had a bluish hue. Grealle placed his hands on each side of the man's neck.
After what seemed like an eternity, Grealle looked sadly at Pippin. "His heart does not beat, Pippin. I am sorry, but your friend is dead."
"NO!" Pippin screamed. "He can't be dead! Please, do something, Grealle!"
Grealle closed his eyes and placed his hands on Boromir's neck once again. "Wait!" Grealle exclaimed. "I think I felt…" he said, stopping in mid-sentence. He pressed his ear against Boromir's chest. "Yes! I was mistaken!" It is a heartbeat! Slow and very faint, but it is there!"
Pippin stood with his mouth agape, his brain unable to comprehend. "What?"
"Pippin, he lives!"
"He's alive?" Pippin asked in disbelief.
"Yes!" Grealle said as he heaved Boromir over his shoulder. "I shall make haste, and give aid to your companion at home. Follow the edge of the lake and go back to where we began our search. Please leave a sign for Brasen and Stelle, and then come as quickly as you can." With that said, Grealle left Pippin and rushed back to Heartstone.
At the edge of the water where the search had begun that morning, Pippin wrote the word "found" using rocks he found on the lake's rocky bank, and formed an arrow pointing toward Heartstone. Then with Boromir's sword in hand, he ran back to Grealle's house as fast as his small legs would carry him.
Grealle burst into the house bearing Boromir in his arms. Elainthea, startled by his abrupt entrance, dropped a pot of mirventha juice on the floor.
"Elainthea, we have found him! He's been in the lake and is near death. We need stones heated quickly!" Grealle said.
"Carreod, I need more mirventha! And, Vivaecia, I shall need mearthien," Elainthea said as she handed each of the children a pot.
As the children hurried out, Elainthea placed a large pot over the fire in the hearth, and filled it with round stones from a wooden box beside the fireplace.
Grealle laid Boromir on a bed and stripped him of his wet clothes. The man's body was ice cold to the touch, and he didn't appear to be breathing. Grealle examined Boromir carefully, and found he had several injuries. His right arm was broken and his ribcage was spotted with bruising on the left side. He had blood in his mouth, a sign that a broken rib had punctured his lung. His legs were badly scraped and bruised. There was also a deep gash on Boromir's forehead, but Grealle's main concern was the man's body temperature. It was so low Boromir appeared dead. Grealle had to raise the internal heat of his body or he would not survive. He wrapped Boromir in a thick woolen blanket while he waited for the rocks to be heated.
Elainthea brought the first batch of stones into the room. They wrapped the rocks with soft pieces of cloth, placing them on each side of Boromir's neck, under his armpits, on each side of his pelvis, under his knees and against the bottom of his feet. The next task was setting his arm. Grealle expertly jerked the arm until the bone went back into place. Boromir did not even flinch as Grealle wrapped the arm in a splint.
As Elainthea placed two more blankets over Boromir, Pippin burst into the room, and rushed up to the bed. "How is he?" he asked breathlessly.
"He still lives," Grealle said. "But we must raise his body's heat or he will certainly perish." He turned to Elainthea. "I shall aid Vivaecia."
Pippin's eyes widened in shock as Grealle rushed out of the room. "Where is he going?"
"To find mearthien," Elainthea turned to leave. "I will put more stones to heat," she said and stepped out of the room before Pippin could ask what mearthien was.
The hobbit looked at his companion's deathly pale face. His lower lip trembled and tears streamed down his face. It pained him to see his hero look so frail. He embraced Boromir's neck; his body was so cold. "Please don't die, Boromir. Don't leave me here all alone…please."