In this chapter I decided to introduce a well-loved character from RotK that doesn't appear in the movies. Hope you enjoy it!

As always, reviews are extremely welcome!

Chapter 10

Pippin sighed and squirmed on the stone bench, his legs dangling uncomfortably a few inches above the floor. When he had offered his sword to Denethor, he hadn't anticipated that being accepted as a Guard of the Citadel would mean that he would be excluded from Boromir and Gandalf's meeting with Denethor, left to cool his heels standing guard outside the room. Denethor would clearly have preferred to exclude Gandalf as well, but Boromir had deftly maneuvered his father into accepting the wizard's presence.

Breakfast was feeling like a dim memory and he wondered once again how much longer he would have to wait when he heard his name called softly. Pippin looked up to see Morloth peeking through the entrance to the antechamber in which he was seated. When their eyes met, she smiled and gestured for him to join her.

After a quick glance at the door he was guarding to reassure himself that the meeting was not ending imminently, he rose eagerly and joined her. She said quietly, "I don't want to take you from your post, Pippin, but I needed to speak to you and I didn't want to disturb them."

"Oh, don't worry, I can see the door from here, and besides, I don't think they'll be done anytime soon…unfortunately," he added, sighing heavily. "How can I help you, Morloth?"

"Well," she replied, pulling a folded note from her sleeve, "I was going to ask whomever was on duty to give Boromir this note, but I didn't know it was going to be you, Pippin!" she said with a smile. "I suppose I can just ask you to tell him that my son Cirlan has reached the city so I'll be going to see him and won't return until midday at least. In case he comes looking for me at the Houses of Healing," Morloth added, reddening slightly.

"Your…son?" Pippin stared at Morloth in surprise, wondering he had mistaken his friend's interest in her. Then, remembering his manners, Pippin flushed and said, "I'm sorry, Morloth, if was I rude. I…I didn't know you had any children. Of course I'll give Boromir the message."

She met his eyes and smiled warmly, "Just the one, Pippin. Cirlan is staying with my sister here in Minas Tirith." Morloth chuckled fondly, "He's fifteen and thinks he's grown up already, but I think he'll still be glad to see me."

"And your husband; is he staying nearby also?" Pippin asked with as much nonchalance as he could muster.

If Morloth saw through this blatant ploy for more information, she gave no sign, simply saying, "I am a widow, Pippin. My husband Bregor was a Ranger, and was killed in Ithilien some years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Morloth," Pippin said sincerely, nonetheless reassured that his initial assessment of Boromir's feelings for the comely healer was most likely correct. Then, remembering something that Gandalf told him, he asked her, "The Ithilien Rangers…don't they have something to do with Boromir's brother Faramir?"

"Oh, yes, he commands them," Morloth explained. "Lord Faramir has been their Captain for many years."

"You know him then? Boromir and Gandalf have spoken of him so often that I would like to meet him."

She nodded, "Faramir was very kind to Cirlan and me when Bregor died. He's a fine man and a fine soldier, like Boromir." Morloth chuckled, "There's no mistaking they're brothers, and as close as brothers can be, but in some ways they're very different too." She met Pippin's eyes and smiled, "But I have no doubt that you will be fast friends—he's just like Boromir in that way!"

"I hope so," Pippin said earnestly, tugging the black and silver tunic into place over his mail. "I was surprised they had a uniform to fit me, but Boromir me told that it was Faramir's when he was a boy. I'd like to thank him."

"I'm sure he'll be glad to hear you're using it. And you look so handsome in it, Pippin! A proper Guard of the Citadel. Her eyes misted with remembrance, "My father was a Tower Guard; seeing the Guard livery always makes me think of him—how tall and handsome he looked in his uniform."

"A bit taller than me, I suppose," Pippin said with a wry smile, taking in Morloth's height.

"Just a bit," Morloth agreed, pursing her lips on a smile.

Pippin heaved a dramatic sigh, "You know we hobbits are used to having men taller than we are, but in most places at least some of the women aren't too much taller. Merry and I decided that it's just unfair that the women in Rohan are as tall as the men elsewhere."

"Are they?" Morloth asked curiously. "I've never met anyone from Rohan, man or woman."

"Oh yes," Pippin affirmed, "the Lady Éowyn is very close to your height."

"You know Lady Éowyn?" Morloth asked in surprise. "What is she like?"

Pippin paused thoughtfully, "A little more slender than you, with long golden hair. Very pretty, but spirited; she knows how to use a sword as well as most men. You'd like her."

"Hmm, perhaps," Morloth said noncommittally.

"But unfair as it is that the women in Gondor are so tall, I've decided that you're just the perfect height," Pippin said, giving her a sly sidelong glance. "The perfect height…for Boromir."

Morloth stared at him for a moment in surprise, then shook her head ruefully and said, "You're very observant, Pippin." She caught his eyes, "But it's best you don't say anything about that around others, especially Lord Denethor. He would not approve," she added a little forlornly.

"I won't Morloth, on my honor. I only think I noticed because I know Boromir so well and want him to be happy."

Morloth briefly laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled down at him. "Thank you, Pippin." After a moment she continued, "Since you know Boromir so well, perhaps you can explain something to me."

"I'll certainly try," Pippin answered eagerly.

"Yesterday you were wearing a very fine gray cloak with a leaf-shaped pin." At Pippin's nod, she continued, "Boromir has one just like it."

"Yes, every member of the Fellowship was given one—except Gandalf, of course, he'd fallen in Moria before then—by Galadriel, the Lady of the Golden Wood."

"Oh, my!" Morloth exclaimed, "The workmanship was so beautiful that I thought they might be of elven make, but I had no idea… In any case, I found Boromir's cloak among his belongings, but when I suggested that he wear it on the journey here he reacted very strongly and said he couldn't."

Pippin's heart clenched. After last night's revelation and knowing Boromir as he did, he could certainly guess why Boromir would refuse to wear his elven cloak, a symbol of their Fellowship.

"Before he left, Aragorn mentioned something I think may be connected to it," Morloth continued. "He said that Boromir might be bothered by something other than worry for you and Merry; that he feels he failed in some way…"

Pippin nodded, "Yes," he said heavily. "He did something he shouldn't have and it weighs on him. His friends understand and have forgiven him, as much as forgiveness is necessary. But I don't dare tell you more; Gandalf would say that it's Boromir's story to tell."

Morloth shook her head, enlightened but dismayed, "It is clear he has not forgiven himself." She met Pippin's gaze, "I think I can guess what—or rather who—it concerns, but I do not wish to lure you into an indiscretion." She clasped Pippin's hands in her own, "Thank you for telling me what you could, Pippin. Perhaps Boromir will tell me the rest on his own once he feels more at ease." Morloth gave him a warm smile, "I should go, but I hope to see you again soon."

"Of course, Morloth, I haven't yet told you and Boromir about our adventures in Rohan!"

"I will look forward to it," she replied. Pippin watched her go with reluctance, and with a sigh settled back on the bench once more to wait for the meeting to end.

-ooo-

Boromir shifted in his chair; sitting was less tiring than standing but his wounds pained him if he stayed in one position for too long. He was impatient as well as uncomfortable, the discussion with his father seemed endless and he chafed to be out among the men guarding the walls.

Lord Denethor was questioning—not for the first time—when Théoden would bring his men to their aid. Boromir ground his teeth in frustration and finally snapped, "Father, they will come when they may, given that the summons was sent just yesterday. In the meantime, we have done what we can to prepare."

"Have we?" Denethor asked pointedly, "All that we can? I asked you to bring me the Enemy's Ring, but you have not done so."

Boromir exchanged a startled glance with Gandalf and Denethor snorted derisively," You didn't think I would mention that in front of Mithrandir, did you? And I thought Faramir was the wizard's pupil!" He fixed his gaze on Boromir and said, "In all time since you returned you have made no mention of the Ring."

Boromir gathered his wits and replied, "I have not done so because there is nothing to say, Father. The Ring is gone beyond our reach, as I'm sure you know."

"Faramir let it slip through his fingers, that is only to be expected. But you!" Denethor's fist struck the arm of his chair with a thud. "I had hoped for more from you, my firstborn. You were to bring it to me—you know that!"

Boromir took a deep breath his quell his rising temper, "If I had returned to you after taking this thing, you would not have known me as your son. And I would not have yielded the Ring to you!"

"You dare!" Denethor exclaimed, "Where does your loyalty lie?"

Boromir sighed wearily, "Father, you have had my love and loyalty all my life, that has not changed. But the Ring knows nothing of love, and its loyalty is only to Sauron."

"Are you telling me that you would let the Ring master you?" Denethor scoffed.

"You know not of what you speak, Father—of the Ring's power. I have felt its call and you have not. Even the Wise are loath to test themselves against it."

Gandalf caught Denethor's eyes with a keen gaze, "Boromir speaks truly, my lord. I chose not to test my will against it, as did the Lady Galadriel.

"Once Saruman was your ally, and Rohan's, and counted as the wisest among us," Gandalf continued, "but his desire for this thing made him Sauron's pawn. Surely that is not what you want for Gondor and its people; to live as slaves bound to the Dark Lord's will."

Denethor gave Gandalf a sour look and fell silent.

Boromir scrubbed a hand over his face, his voice softening, "Whether you choose to believe us or not, Father, the Ring can neither help nor hinder us now. We must defend ourselves without it." He straightened in his chair, his voice taking on a more formal tone, "I ask your leave, my lord, to review Gondor's troops to test their readiness for the battle ahead."

Denethor waved his hand, clearly still displeased with his son. "Go!" he said dismissively.

"Thank you, my lord," Boromir replied, struggling to his feet with Gandalf's assistance. He bowed to his father and turned to leave.

Before they reached the door Denethor spoke again, his voice heavy with suspicion. "Would you have secured the Ring for that Ranger, Aragorn?"

Boromir's heart stilled for a moment and he turned back, meeting his father's eyes. "Aragorn would not have asked it of me, my lord." He bowed again, more deeply this time, and strode from the room as briskly as his wounded body would allow.

As soon as the door boomed closed behind him, Boromir sank onto the bench next to the door, hastily vacated by Pippin.

Pippin's pale face appeared in front of him. "Are you all right, Boromir?" he asked anxiously.

Boromir smiled wanly at the Halfling, "I am well, Pippin, I just need a moment."

"It was a…difficult conversation with Lord Denethor," Gandalf added dryly.

"Oh, I see," Pippin said, perching on the bench next to him. "I know what will cheer you up," he added eagerly. "Morloth stopped by some time ago and asked me to give you a message. Her son Cirlan has arrived in the city and she has gone to see him at her sister's home. If you need her, she said she would be back at the Houses of Healing by midday."

Boromir's heart lifted; it was past midday already. After the long, weary morning with his father the prospect of spending time with Morloth was a promise of joy. Then Boromir sighed; as tempting as it was, he had more pressing duties.

He smiled at the hobbit, "Thank you, Pippin, I hope to see her later. However, first I must review our defenses and speak to the men. They need to see me and know that I have returned to lead them through the coming battle."

Pippin and Gandalf exchanged concerned looks. "Boromir," Gandalf began, "I think that is wise, it will hearten the men to see you. But you should not go alone; I have other tasks and Pippin is still on duty." He turned to the hobbit, "Pippin, run and speak to the door guard and ask them to arrange an escort for Lord Boromir."

"Right away, Gandalf!" Pippin cried, and set off at a trot to the outer doors where the nearest guards were posted.

"That is not necessary, Gandalf," Boromir protested, "I'm not likely to be in danger, or even become lost in my own city!"

Gandalf's eyebrows rose, "I'm far more concerned about you overexerting yourself, my friend. It would not improve the men's morale to have their Captain-General collapse in exhaustion during his tour. Besides," the wizard added, his eyes twinkling, "I imagine a certain lady healer would have a few sharp things to say if you did."

Pippin reappeared accompanied by a Guard in black and silver, a tall, dark-haired man with a ready smile. "Look, Gandalf, I found Beregond! He says he'd be honored to escort Boromir."

Boromir nodded in greeting to the newcomer. "You know this troublesome rascal, Beregond?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes, Lord Boromir, I found him faint with hunger this morning but was able to direct him to the Guard pantry just in time," Beregond answered dryly, his face solemn.

Pippin blushed and Boromir barked out a laugh, "Yes, I'd say you know him." Then he sighed in resignation and said, "Mithrandir thinks I need a keeper, Beregond. So if your duties permit…"

Beregond nodded, "I just relieved Celeg at the door, my lord, and he will return and let the duty officer know to send a replacement for me."

"Good!" Gandalf said briskly. "Had you heard that Lord Boromir was gravely injured not two weeks ago?"

"I had heard…something of that, Mithrandir," Beregond said cautiously, "but nothing on the extent of his injuries."

"Three arrow wounds in the chest," Gandalf said bluntly, "it is only by Eru's grace that he is still with us."

Beregond's eyes widened and he glanced toward Boromir in surprise. Boromir grimaced and murmured, "Gandalf…"

Gandalf gave Boromir a quelling look and continued, "He is mending, but far from full strength and tires easily. You are to remind him to rest frequently and not overexert himself. If in your judgment you feel he needs a healer's care, or even if he proves recalcitrant about resting, send for the Lady Morloth in the Houses of Healing. She will take him in hand," he concluded with a decisive nod.

Boromir made a noise of displeasure at these instructions, and for a moment Beregond glanced between his Captain-General and the wizard, as if unsure where his duty lay. Finally he ducked his head in acknowledgement and replied, "Yes, Mithrandir."

A good enough soldier to know when defeat was inevitable, Boromir sighed resignedly and said, "Let us go then, Beregond." He took Beregond's offer of assistance in standing with as much grace as he could manage, waved farewell to Gandalf and Pippin and made his way toward the door.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Gandalf let out a relieved breath, "That went better than expected." He shook his head in amusement, "Boromir is extremely stubborn and does not like showing any weakness."

"Why is it so important for Boromir to go around and speak to the troops, Gandalf? If you're so worried about him doing too much wouldn't it be better for him to save his strength?" Pippin asked, his brow furrowed.

"Boromir is greatly loved and admired by the soldiers of Minas Tirith, Pippin," Gandalf responded gravely, "They are rightly proud of their Steward's heir; he is seen as a mighty warrior, bold, strong and always willing to fight alongside them despite his high birth. Faramir is loved and admired too, though he is not as well known in the city as his brother.

"The survival of Gondor will likely depend on the whether the soldiers of Minas Tirith can endure; endure the fear, the pain, the horror of battle until Rohan arrives. Boromir and Faramir understand that the men will fight better and endure more for a leader that knows them and is concerned for them rather than one that sits locked away in a high tower, far removed from their cares and their fears."

Pippin glanced at the door leading into the Tower Hall and said, "Oh, I see," under his breath.

"Yes," Gandalf said in a low voice, "Boromir would never say so out of loyalty, but he knows that the men would prefer to fight for him and his brother rather than their father. That is why he spends his strength to see and talk to the men—so they will spend their strength, and their lives if need be, in the defense of Gondor. It is a grim duty, but one Boromir will not shrink from." He met Pippin's eyes and held them, "Do you understand, Pippin?"

"Yes," Pippin whispered.

"Good," Gandalf said his face lightening as he patted Pippin on the shoulder.

Emboldened by Gandalf's tone, Pippin said, "Gandalf, I have another question."

Gandalf muttered, "Why am I not surprised?" He raised one bushy eyebrow and prompted, "Yes, Pippin?"

"I was just wondering if you know what's wrong with Morloth."

"What's wrong with Morloth?" Gandalf repeated, his tone sharp with surprise, "Why, nothing that I know of—she seemed to be in good health and spirits last night."

"Oh, I don't mean that's she's ill or anything—I don't think she is—but when I mentioned how happy I was that she and Boromir…you know…" Pippin clarified, hoping that no further explanation was necessary.

Gandalf eyed Pippin shrewdly, "Yes, I believe I do know, and I suppose I should have expected that you would discern how things are between them."

"She wasn't upset that I knew about it, but she did warn me not to mention it around anyone else," Pippin glanced at the door to the inner chamber again before continuing in a whisper, "especially Lord Denethor."

Gandalf sat down on the bench and sighed, "You wish to know why Boromir's father would be displeased with their relationship if he were to learn of it."

At Pippin's nod, Gandalf went on, "The Lord Steward has a quite exalted opinion of his own heritage," his voice heavy with irony. "In his eyes, there is none nobler in Gondor—or the whole of Middle Earth—than the House of Húrin. Which is, I believe," Gandalf added dryly, "at least in part the reason why the prospect of an heir of Isildur is so vexing for him. Morloth's lineage, though not noble, is certainly nothing to be ashamed of, and it is obvious to me that the blood of Númenór runs strongly in her family as it does in some others here, noble and commoner alike. From what I have observed, Morloth is a fine woman and Boromir's equal in spirit, wit and courage." Gandalf shook his head ruefully, "But that will not be enough to persuade Lord Denethor to approve the match; and he must, if Boromir has any thought of marriage."

Gandalf pulled out his pipe and began filling its bowl with pipeweed. "I don't understand why those things matter so much if Boromir loves her," Pippin grumbled.

"I doubt Lord Denethor will invite your counsel on this matter," Gandalf replied tartly, a smile softening his words. "But I think there is something else at work here as well," the wizard added, staring thoughtfully into the distance. "Since Denethor lost Finduilas, his beloved wife and the mother of his sons, Boromir has been given his love and approval to the exclusion of all others."

"Even Faramir?" Pippin asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

"I believe—and hope—that Denethor still loves Faramir as well, but he does not show it as he does for Boromir. In any case, I suspect that if Boromir truly loves Morloth that it is more likely for his father to oppose their marriage, not less. In his heart, Denethor fears that if his son loves another he will love his father less."

Pippin stared at Gandalf, thoroughly perplexed. "But…but Gandalf, that's not how love works! I've never been married, of course, but I'm sure you can love your wife and still love your parents just as much. Having more people to love is a good thing!"

Gandalf snorted. "I know that, foolish hobbit," he said fondly. "I not trying to defend his actions, merely explain them."

"Oh," Pippin replied, and after a moment added, "Hobbits are much easier to understand."

Gandalf's eyes crinkled with amusement, "No doubt, Pippin, no doubt." He stood and said briskly, "Shadowfax could use some exercise and I'd like to take my own tour of the defenses. You'll be off duty soon, meet me at the stables if you'd like to accompany us."

"Yes, I'd like that, Gandalf. Some dinner after that, perhaps? Or even before?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm sure that can be arranged, Pippin," Gandalf chuckled, and strode out of the hall.