First of all, thank you thank you thank you to my readers and reviewers out there. Extra shout out to Shirebound, who is making my year with her unwavering support. Thank you times a hundred! Also to Pansy Chubb and Fantasyfan and Marigold. I appreciate everything, really, even if I don't stick in a note every chapter. I'm not sure what the etiquette is on responding to feedback in a format like this.

So, thanks! Really. I'm working on another story now that hopefully resounds as well with you. A little AU that, like this one, retells Fellowship. Only with Merry as ringbearer. I know, it's been done. But I can't help it. There are far too many stories out there right now making my Merry the bad guy, and it's driving me to distraction.

But enough about me. Here's Boromir. J

***

He got his chance to speak to Pippin sooner than he would have thought. Gimli, early the next day as they all ate a slow breakfast in hopes of stalling the day's monotonous travel, cornered Merry and Frodo and was regaling the two of them with some long, drawn out, over-enthusiastic tale of his people.

Hobbits, of course, were the perfect audience. They, even more than the other races of Middle Earth, seemed to love tales and songs. Frodo was fascinated. Merry was grinning and drawn in.

Legolas sat apart from them, listening in obvious amusement. The humor in his eyes for the dwarf was much more affectionate now than it had been. Noticeably more since Lothlorien; since Gimli had made such a favorable impression on, and been so impressed by, Galadriel.

As it was, Pippin found his way to Boromir and sat down with a sleepy smile. "It appears we have another long day of sitting in boats ahead of us."

Boromir nodded and handed over the food waiting for the young hobbit. "Enjoy it. There won't be many peaceful days ahead."

Pippin made a face. "You and Strider. You'd say that about anything if you could. 'Fancy a bit of sausage, Boromir?' 'Enjoy it, foolish hobbit. There might be no sausages come tomorrow.'"

Boromir laughed out loud at the hobbit's deep intonation in mockery of his voice. "We're not as bad as all that."

"At times. I already know something's troubling you this morning. I know I need only sit here and wait and you'll make my day a little bleaker."

Boromir looked at him, smiling.

Pippin smiled, too, but his eyebrows were raised. He was waiting.

Boromir gave him what he was waiting for a moment later. "Something does concern me."

Pip grinned in victory. "And they say I'm foolish. I can read you men easily."

Boromir glanced at the tree where Gimli sat, thrilling his willing audience. "I'm concerned about Merry."

There was the smallest pause, and another burst of high, twinkling laughter rose from Pip. "I'm not as talented as I thought at reading you. I never would have guessed that would come from you. Why in the world would you worry about Merry?"

Boromir hesitated, watching Merry laugh quietly and twist a smile at Frodo as Gimli went on, waving his arms grandly.

Pippin spoke again, still amused. "You haven't gotten over your first impression of us, have you? Still thinking of us as children, because we're smaller? Boromir, believe me when I tell you, Merry will handle anything that lies ahead of us far better than anyone I've ever known. Merry is stronger than you give him credit for."

Boromir turned to Pip, lowering his voice. Aragorn and Sam were hovering nearby, packing things up in preparation for the day's journey. "You think a lot of Merry, I know. He takes good care of you."

Pip met his eyes, thinking it over. "Well. I suppose he always has. Ever since I was too young to realize."

"Then…I suppose the times have come that you have taken care of him as well?"

Pip smiled at that, waving his hand negatively. "You haven't heard me. Merry's quite the strongest hobbit there is, I think. He doesn't need to be taken care of."

Boromir nodded to himself. He was glad of that response. Knowing now how Merry stifled his own emotions, he had hoped Pip didn't realize what his cousin had buried. He would have been dismayed to learn that Pip indeed did realize, but didn't care enough to help. That would have surprised him, but he could imagine how a young, happy thing like Pip could be easily spoiled and selfish.

He was glad that wasn't the case here.

So now he had to make Pip see what Merry had hidden so well. "That would be surprising indeed."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because, Pip, everyone needs help every now and then. Even Gandalf, who was stronger than all of us, couldn't have set out on this quest without help. Even Elrond had to ask help from the other races of Middle Earth."

Pip studied him, brow furrowed. "And with all those big things going on, you're worried about my Merry?'

Boromir nodded. "He grows more troubled every day. I'm a stranger to him, or I would try to heal his pain myself."

Pip's eyes swung automatically to Merry.

Boromir followed his gaze.

Merry was smiling. His eyes were shining, his mouth half-open and curved up. He was huddled beside Frodo, who was asking Gimli something or other about his story.

He certainly didn't look troubled. He didn't show anything but the enthusiasm of the moment.

Pip turned back with a smile. "I think you're imagining darkness on the one place it can't be found. I should know if something were troubling Merry. He is closer than my sisters to me. Closer than anyone. If he were in trouble…"

"Tell me, master Pippin. Has he ever been in trouble before?"

Pip frowned, looking annoyed at Boromir's refusal to believe him.

A thump sounded beside the fire, and Sam huffed a little as he sat by the loaded pack. "I think I may just be tired enough to appreciate riding in a boat instead of walking today."

Boromir smiled faintly.

Sam noticed Pip's unusually solemn face. "Something bothering you, Mr. Pippin?"

Pip answered fast. "Sam, is there something wrong with Merry?"

Boromir glanced at Sam, not expecting too much in response. He well knew that Sam had only had eyes for Frodo on the whole of this trip.

Sam cocked his head, surprised, but thought about it dutifully. "I haven't noticed anything as such, Mr. Pippin."

Pip relaxed a little.

"Then again, I'd be surprised if I did, if you get my meaning."

Pip stared at him past Boromir. "No. I don't. What do you mean?"

Sam shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. "Well. It's just that… I've known Mr. Merry a good many years now. Not as many as you, and not as close, but… I can full well say I've never heard a single complaint from him about anything important. And not just in a gentlehobbit way – I mean not one word about anything bad, 'less it involved you, Mr. Pippin, or someone else he cared about."

"Well. What does that mean? Merry's not had a hard life. Why should he complain about anything?" Pip was stiff, a little belligerent at the idea that Sam may know more about Merry than he did.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," Sam replied slowly.

Pip was almost glaring by then. "What's that mean?"

Sam's eyes went to Boromir, then back to Pip. He shrugged.

Pip blew out his breath. "Boromir has been as good a friend to us as any hobbit. You can speak in front of him."

Boromir repressed the warmth he felt at those words, turning back to Sam.

Sam frowned reproachfully. "Now, Mr. Pippin. I'm not about to go telling anyone's secrets, not even to you much less to a man I don't hardly know."

"Then you do know something?" Pip's voice was getting higher in outrage. "Something's wrong with Merry and you know about it and I don't?"

Sam held up a hand. "I don't know anything about it. And anyway it was a long time ago. All I know is there was some hard times, and Mr. Merry was caught up in it. Now I can remember a time or two when I might've asked something about it, having a little too much ale in me. And he didn't ever say a word to no one. If he did…"

"What?"

"Well, I suspect if anyone in the whole world knows, it'd be Mr. Frodo. But now don't you go bothering him about it. He's got enough on his mind as it is, and whatever this thing was happened a long time ago and shouldn't be brought back up now."

Boromir put a hand on Pip's arm. The young hobbit was practically seething.

Sam rose and shook off his tiredness. "I expect we'll be going soon. I'll just go collect Mr. Frodo's things."

Pip frowned after him. "But—"

Boromir held him there, solemn. "Pip."

Pip's eyes, wide and openly showing their shock and worry, turned to him. "I didn't know."

Boromir nodded. "He wouldn't want you to, even now."

"But—"

"Pip. Listen to me." Boromir faced him, lowering his voice, ignoring the preparations of the others around him. "I see these things that you don't because I know what to look for. I myself have been most of my life just like Merry. I hid everything I felt, for whatever good I thought it would do. And I have never known what it's like to have someone care enough for me that they look past the mask I put on, and see what's really there."

His eyes went unconsciously back to Merry. Merry, who hadn't listened to his dismissal in Lothlorien, who had tried different approaches until he made Boromir speak about what was really bothering him.

He amended his words quietly. "I haven't known it until recently. But in hiding things I was not helping myself. Merry doesn't realize, but he is doing himself no good. If he's not careful it will harden him, as it did me. And for that to happen to him…" He shook his head, intently meeting Pip's gaze. Praying the hobbit understood. "For my own part, there were always matters bigger than me to worry about. No one I knew could have donated the time to give me and my troubles, and I wouldn't have wanted them to. But for such a thing to happen to someone like Merry, especially when he has someone like you…it would be a waste. Merry should be happy."

Pip nodded slowly, biting his lip. His eyes went to Merry again, then down to the ground.

Boromir sighed, releasing his hold on Pip's arm.

Perhaps Merry would be okay after all.

***

Perhaps things weren't as simple as he was hoping.

The two hobbits sat beside each other in the boat that day, and Boromir stayed quiet and watchful. He nodded now and then to Pip whenever the hobbit looked his way; he tried to be encouraging.

But the two barely spoke. There was no great revelation of troubles, no attempt to get that revelation. There wasn't even the usual rambling Shire talk.

What there was, to Boromir's eye, was a pair of uncomfortable young hobbits who behaved suddenly more like strangers than the best friends they were.

When Pip did meet Boromir's eyes, his expression was pensive.

Boromir wasn't pleased. Maybe he had been wrong to think that Pippin could handle a responsibility like that.

Maybe there was just too much at stake, too many large things happening around them, for Boromir to be worrying about it.

His eyes drifted easily to the boat alongside his. He found himself, as the silence in his own boat grew longer, looking to Frodo. To the ring.

It made his mind spin of late to think of it. To the point where he wasn't sure if he was using Merry and Pip to distract himself from the ring, or if the ring served to distract him from his suddenly troubled friends.

He knew only that when he was focused on his hobbits, none of the larger things mattered.

But when he focused on the ring, it was getting easier and easier to lose track of the fellowship around him, to remember the dark land Gondor was becoming. To imagine all the things that could be gained by taking the ring to his father, or wielding it himself.

It filled his mind that day, in the boat, traveling their slow course.

The little hobbits and their little problems faded from his care.