Author's Note – Thanks again for the reviews.

To Shirebound…sorry to make you nervous. I hope this chapter doesn't upset you much. This is where I get deviant and put in some slashy bits. J I dunno about more people discovering the story…at least I've got you. Quality, not quantity, right?

Magic Carpet Ride – Thank you so much! Wow. Not sure I deserve all that, but I won't argue. J I developed much of my current opinion about Boromir while I was writing him, and I went from feeling almost neutral about his character to adoring him. Strange how that works, huh? Anyway, glad you like it so much. Honestly, thank you a whole lot. Hope the end doesn't let you down.

Now we proceed. As I warned above, here be slashy bits between surprise (or maybe not such a surprise) characters.

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"I think," Merry announced as they settled their boats onto the shore for a much-needed meal, "I shall earn my food today and collect wood for the fire. I begin to feel guilty with nothing to do all day but sit in a boat and be more weight for Boromir to steer."

Boromir turned his eyes from Frodo to Merry, shaking away the slight cloud that had overtaken his vision. "It's my honor to steer you, master hobbit. Besides, you and Pippin together hardly create enough weight to be a burden."

Merry looked at him with feigned indignance.

Boromir smiled, all thoughts of Frodo leaving his mind.

Merry smiled back after a moment, eyes as sunny as ever. "However, since hobbits are not solitary creatures, I wonder if anyone should like to go with me." His eyes, instantly and hopefully, went to Pippin.

There was a pause. Boromir glanced at the youngest hobbit and frowned to see him standing there, rummaging through his pack as though he hadn't heard his cousin speak.

"I will go, if my company is acceptable," Boromir stated firmly.

He saw Pip's eyes come up and land on him before he himself turned back to Merry.

Merry looked to him and smiled, but that sunny light was gone from his gaze. "Of course. I could hope for no one better."

"Oh, stop the pronouncements and go get the wood. Some of us are hungry."

Merry smiled at that, looking at Gimli over Boromir's shoulder. "I would make some comment about dwarves and patience, but my own stomach seems to agree with you."

"Then come, Merry." Boromir went to him and placed a hand upon his shoulder.

As they left the sight of the rest of the fellowship, Boromir glanced back to see Pip's eyes on them, staring. And he heard the light sound of Pip's voice hurriedly to the others, though he didn't catch the words.

He heard also, as they went further, the barely audible sound of light footsteps following their moves. So Pip had made his excuses and come after them. Good.

And yet he wasn't coming to them, merely following at a distance. Boromir smiled to himself grimly. If Pip was going to play at this like a child, then Boromir was going to help him understand that it was no game.

He spoke to Merry suddenly, pitching his voice loud enough for their shadow to hear. "I am wondering, Merry. Did you and Pip have some disagreement that I was not aware of?"

Merry tensed under his hand. "We've hardly had time to talk at all, much less argue."

"Indeed. If today's travels have been any measure, you haven't talked about anything. Is something the matter?"

Merry sighed, his eyes going inward as he stopped in his tracks and half-heartedly looked around for twigs for a fire. "Not on my part. I think…I think Pip is still lost in his guilt over Moria. I've talked to him, but…" He turned back to Boromir suddenly, earnest. "You know of battles and death and guilt. What am I doing wrong? Tell me what I should say to get my Pip back. Is there anything to be done?"

Boromir heard the tiniest sound of a rustled branch behind them. He resisted the urge to turn and look, not wanting to alert Merry to their company. Honest words were needed here.

He answered slowly. "From what I can tell, Merry…there is one thing you can do. One thing that might make this better."

Merry was eager, instantly grabbing his arm. "What? Tell me."

Boromir crouched down beside him, meeting his eyes levelly. "You can stop focusing on Pip and start helping your own self."

Merry frowned, his brow furrowing. "What does that mean?"

"It means…Merry, you can't forever give all of yourself to other people. I know how much you care for Pip. I do. But if you leave nothing of yourself for you to hold on to…" He sighed. "You would turn into me, a hardened and bitter thing with no hope left at all."

Merry shook his head instantly, his hand moving lightly up and down Boromir's arm in a soothing gesture. "I have never met a man as warm as you. I don't know how you can think yourself hard, but you aren't that way at all."

Boromir smiled faintly. "And what do you know of my character, master hobbit?" he echoed days-old words quietly, without anger.

Merry met his eyes confidently. "I know that you have watched over two small and silly creatures like us without complaint. I know that you would face danger to save any one of us in this odd fellowship. I have heard the love in your voice when you speak of your land and your people. I have heard you laugh and seen you smile, and there is nothing hard about it."

Pip's presence left Boromir's mind. He searched Merry's expression in amazement, seeing the sincerity easily enough. "You believe that."

"I know it. I know your mind turns towards dark thoughts, but this quest…it's affecting us all in different ways. You can no more control your reactions than Frodo can. I wish I could help you in some way, but I'm too small and unimportant to know what to do, or be able to do it if I did know."

Boromir smiled. It was his turn for reassurance. "Small you may be, but you have become as dear to me as any friend I have ever had. Count that as unimportant if you like."

Merry's eyes were shining again, that sunny look returning slowly.

Boromir swallowed, gazing at Merry, wondering at the odd feelings stirring in him. "You said the other day that you wondered what it felt like to be taken care of. I have wondered that often myself, though I did not confess it at the time."

Merry nodded, meeting his eyes. "I am not surprised to hear it. We are alike in many ways, as you yourself said."

"I wonder…" Boromir reached out and touched Merry's arm, enjoying the comfort of the touch. Amazed he was at the amount of affection in his heart for the little hobbit. "It is a shame that you and I are of such different races."

Merry moved in closer, seeming to enjoy the touch as much as Boromir. "Why is that?" he asked, his voice quiet.

Boromir smiled. "It would be quite convenient, wouldn't it, for you and I to take care of each other? And then we would both know the answer to our question."

Merry's cheeks tinted a light pink. "Do you think I could not care for you such as you are now? Or is it you who could not care for a hobbit?"

Boromir spoke instantly. "No. No, I think I already do, more than is healthy for me. And yet…it would be an odd thing, wouldn't it? For you and I to take care of each other in that way."

"In that way," Merry repeated quietly, his voice faint.

Boromir reached out with a hand that acted without his approval, and moved his fingertips lightly over Merry's rounded cheek.

Merry held his breath for a moment, leaning into the touch. "I have wondered something else at times, do you know? I wonder what it would feel like to kiss someone and know that that person may come to love me."

Boromir caught his breath. If he were still the man he was on the trip to Rivendell, he would have laughed and pushed the creature away, off-put by the whole conversation.

Yet now all he could do was lean closer and drop his voice as Merry did. "He never gave you that, did he?"

They both knew who the he was. "No. He cares for me as much as he cares for anyone. But I heard him laugh to you that night, and I know. He could never love me as I want." Merry searched his eyes, a question on his face.

Boromir knew the answer, and wondered at himself that he would speak it out loud. "I think I could very easily come to love you, Merry." His words fell quietly, and his stomach churned with sudden, fierce nervousness.

He was a soldier of Gondor. He was meant to fight and die, to protect his land and his people. He was not meant to be standing in some woodland clearing, professing his affection for a hobbit.

But. There it was.

Merry blinked, and his eyes were suddenly brighter than ever. He smiled faintly. "I believe I could very happily take care of you, for as long as you wished me to."

Boromir swallowed. His stomach continued its nervous churning, his heart beat loudly in his chest. He returned Merry's small smile, taking in the wide eyes and adored face of his own little hobbit. "Then maybe I could answer another question of yours."

Merry cocked his head a little, brow knitting into a light furrow.

Boromir leaned in, making his intention known.

Merry breathed in, but didn't pull away. He slid his eyes shut and met the touch of Boromir's lips hesitantly.

Boromir felt himself letting go of tension he hadn't realized he held. He sank to his knees from his unsteady crouch, placing him slightly lower than Merry, who immediately bowed his head to keep their lips in contact.

The touch was light, but the feelings it stirred were heavy and solid. Boromir felt as if some strange power had overtaken him, filling him with warmth and a kind of joy that was far too good to be lasting.

His hand curved to slide over Merry's cheek, to touch soft skin. He changed angle slightly and refit his lips to Merry's firmly.

He felt Merry's arms moving over his shoulders, holding him where he was. Merry made a faint noise against his mouth, and pressed against Boromir down the whole length of him, as if he wanted to melt right into him until they were a single body.

It was more than welcome. Boromir folded his arms now around Merry, holding him tightly and risking deepening their kiss. His lips parted and his tongue experimentally tasted Merry's lips.

Merry made a louder noise this time, parting his lips eagerly and letting Boromir enter.

It was warm and welcoming, affectionate and sincere. And Boromir felt a little more of the hard, firm man he had been molded into slipping away, and a little more of the smiling and loved person he was becoming overtaking him.

 It wasn't to last, though.

Merry pulled away, breathing hard. His eyes were still shut, and his arms stayed locked around Boromir, but he bit his lip, looking not at all happy. "Boromir…"

Boromir felt the sheer rush of the last minute start to drain from him. He sat back, letting his arms fall from around Merry. "I'm sorry, if you didn't wish that." He spoke quietly.

Merry's eyes opened, and Boromir was shocked at how clearly he could read the need there. The affection Merry felt was obvious, the thrill that matched Boromir's own. And over it all was need so strong it seemed almost desperate. "I…I wished it. More than you could know." He swallowed, casting his eyes down. "But."

Boromir nodded, swallowing. "I know. There could be no more than this."

Merry sniffed suddenly, and a bit of the wet brightness in his eyes escaped and slid down his cheek. "It wouldn't be fair to you. It couldn't be. So much of me already belongs to another, and…I wouldn't want you to ever be with someone who couldn't give you all of them. It's not fair."

Boromir nodded again. No, not fair. Not for either of them. Not fair that Boromir should find this understanding, accepting form of love from someone obviously not meant for him. "I will be happy," he said slowly, not at all sure he spoke truth, "with whatever you can give. Even if this is the beginning and end of it."

Merry blinked out more wetness, obviously conflicted. "If nothing else, you have answered my question. I know how it feels to…to be kissed with love. And…and I don't think it should ever be possible for me to stop caring for you. And…you…I'm sorry I can't do as I hoped. I would care for you, Boromir, take care of you. Truly I would. But you should have more."

Boromir dropped his eyes, sighing to himself. And so he would go on being a soldier, being hard and strong, and the smiling man he felt himself becoming would last for this little while and then fade away.

It was his role in life. He had always accepted that, and he accepted it now. Though it was harder, now that he knew what that other life would feel like.

He spoke finally, and winced at how bitter he sounded. "Your Pippin doesn't know how lucky he is."

Merry didn't answer. He raised a hand to echo Boromir's earlier touch, letting his fingers glide over Boromir's rough cheek.

Boromir smiled into the touch. "I think if I didn't care for him so much I would start to resent the hold he has on you."

"It's not as you think," Merry answered quietly. "It isn't that he doesn't love me. He does, in his way. He is more devoted to me than he is to anyone. He will not settle with me, it's true. I think I should lose him, if no other time than four years from now, when he does as he thinks is right and finds a lass to marry."

"And what will become of you then?" Boromir asked.

Merry smiled, looking as bitter as Boromir sounded. "Then I will be alone. I wish it was in me to ask you to wait for me, but that is a cruel dismissal of a man who should not live a single day as someone's second-best."

"And yet I think I would, if you asked. There has been no one in my life before like you, and no reason to think there will be anyone else in the next four years."

"I hope you're wrong."

"And I hope your Pip somehow sees what he's so blind to now. I hope that you don't give your love forever to not have it returned. You would grow tired of it eventually, and he would lose all he has of you."

"It's possible, I suppose. Not likely."

Boromir nodded. He knew. He could see in Merry's eyes his love for his cousin, and knew that kind of pure devotion wouldn't fade.

Merry cleared his throat suddenly, stepping back and breaking the strange, soft spell around them. "If we don't get to our task we'll have a hungry dwarf to contend with."

Boromir smiled, obeying the silent wish to return to normal. "Perhaps we'd best separate. I find I get less accomplished when there are hobbits around to distract me."

Merry smiled, and that carefree air was over him again. "We do tend to get underfoot. It's why we mostly avoid you Big Folk."

Boromir saw through that smile easily now, but he returned it with a fake one of his own. "Then I shall see you back at the camp in a few minutes."

Merry nodded and instantly set off, whistling quietly to himself as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Boromir watched him go, and cast his gaze to the ground for any fallen twigs or leaves to serve as tinder.

He moved mechanically. At least he was used to doing what had to be done even when his thoughts were elsewhere.

He remembered Pippin, and it made him freeze for just a moment.

How long had Pip stayed within sight of them? Had he seen and heard everything?

It would be awkward if he had. But most likely it would be for the best. He would know, at last, how Merry truly felt, and he would answer it one way or another.

If Boromir were selfish, he would wish for Pip to inform his cousin that his love wouldn't be returned, and to sever their closeness. If it happened soon enough, Merry would maybe accept a lesser place at Boromir's side.

But he wasn't selfish, not entirely. What he wanted most was what he had wanted for most of this quest – he wanted his little hobbits to be happy, and to be safe.

He soon gathered an armful of sticks, ambling through the trees lost in his thoughts.

And then he heard footsteps, and then he saw Frodo. Alone, drifting through the woods lost in his own heavy thoughts.

And Boromir, grateful this time, let go of thoughts of his hobbits and let the ring around Frodo's neck claim his mind once more.