A great big thanks to Shirebound for taking the time to beta my work for me! This is most likely the last chapter, at least for a little while. Thank you to all of those who have reviewed I certainly appreciate it!

Part IV: Boromir

"Seek for the Sword that was broken," muttered Boromir, son of Denethor as he paced back and forth in one of Imladris' grand halls. "There shall be counsels taken," he repeated another part of the rhyme he had come here to make clear.

There had certainly been "counsels taken", he thought. He had learned much in the Council of the Wise. "The Halfling forth shall stand"; he had certainly seen that as well. What bothered him the most was -- "Seek for the Sword that was broken". What was that to mean? Isildur's heir, the one to whom the Sword belonged, had also been foremost in his thoughts. He wanted to believe this Ranger Aragorn could really be the rightful king, but he was skeptical. After all, where was their King when they needed him the most?

He sighed in frustration and looked around at where he was. He should have been paying more attention; this would not be the first time he had gotten lost. He jumped slightly when an elf silently walked past him going the opposite direction. That he would not get used to. His younger brother would have relished this opportunity.

"Faramir, I wish you had been the one to come. You would have found more ease here than I, and perhaps you would have understood better what it is that is suppose to be done," thought Boromir. After all, he was more learned in the ancient writings and such, perhaps something in one of those would have helped in this situation.

One thing he had decided; he had to get home as soon as possible. His people were fighting a war, and he had to be there to lead them. He admitted to himself that he was not looking forward to the long trip home. He should have let Faramir come, then he could stay where he was needed most.

Boromir finally found where he was and turned to make his way to the Great Hall. He was walking through a breezeway in a garden when he noticed he was not the only one making his way to lunch.

Ahead two children's piping voices came back to him. No, on closer inspection he realized they weren't children at all but Halflings, and a man with them. Boromir realized with a funny jolt that the man was the Ranger, Aragorn. He was conversing and laughing with the two, not the stern man he had seen and heard in the Council.

When they entered the dining area Aragorn stopped to speak to a fair elf woman. Boromir averted his gaze to keep from making eye contact, and continued on. He sat at a table and, to his mild distress, a few moments later Aragorn and the two Halflings sat at the same table.

He glanced around trying to decide if he could politely change tables, but an elf already approached with steaming covered dishes. One was placed in front of him, then the other three and the only other elf at the table.

The happy chatter was constant across from him and he began to eat quickly, hoping to get out of there as soon as possible. The elf had already left, having eaten a bowl of fruit. Being trained as a warrior, Boromir's senses were attuned to all that was around him, and he could feel the Ranger once in a while glance over at him. He was working on his last few bites when a goblet clattered over and spilt its contents in his lap.

He jumped up and back, knocking over his chair and causing the whole Hall to go ominously quiet. The two Halflings sitting across from him had gone oddly silent, and he noticed that one had changed a furious shade of red, as he – with as much dignity as he could muster – righted his chair and sat back down.

When he was seated the gloriously red Halfling began to babble. "I am so sorry, my lord! I did not mean to send my cup into your lap like that! I shouldn't use my hands to talk especially when I'm eating! It wouldn't be the first time I had knocked a goblet into someone's lap, but never a stranger! Especially in a place like this, I obviously don't possess elven movement, I'm sure things like that never happen here!"

Boromir was trying to sponge away the liquid before it could soak all the way through his clothes. He was resolutely not looking up or around him; for surely this was a novel experience among elves. The Halfling hopped off his chair and came around to stand next to him. Boromir hastily took the Halfling's proffered napkin before he could begin to help him clean up.

To his horror he realized that someone began to laugh. "Oh, Pip!" the second Halging began, trying to control his mirth to go on, "this whole empty table and Strider and me, and you have to knock your cup over onto the only person you don't know!"

Boromir thought he saw Aragorn's lips twitch, but when he looked again the Ranger was again sober; had he been about to laugh? The little one standing next to him looked torn between making a run for it and smiling.

Boromir cleared his throat and said. "It is not the first time a goblet of," he looked at the liquid coming off of his trousers, "milk, has been spilt in my direction." The Halfling smiled gratefully. The second just laughed harder. And the heir of Isildur openly grinned at him.

"Come on, Pip," said the other Halfling standing up. "Seeing as you have been forgiven, I think we had better go before you make another spectacle." Still laughing, he led the other out of the Hall.

Aragorn surveyed him, gray eyes looking right through him. "You took that with good grace." He then chuckled and left, following the pair out of the Hall.

Boromir looked at his soaked trousers and shrugged. He slowly replayed what had just happened. It really must have been a sight! He smiled and also left.

Boromir walked purposely towards the library. Throughout the last couple of months he had become convinced that Isildur's heir was indeed the son of Arathorn. A couple of conversations with Aragorn had revealed him to be a man of hidden strength and wisdom. Just the man to lead them through war. It had been decided that Boromir should travel with this Fellowship, on at least part of their trip. He would at some point turn his course to Gondor, as would Aragorn. The return of the true King would be a hope un- looked for, to his people. He had vaguely wondered what his father would think; no doubt there would be a lot of cross-examining of Aragorn's life and past. Surely, though, that could wait until after the War; perhaps it would never happen at all if this Mission was not complete in one form or another.

It was early December, and the Company of the Ring was to head out soon. Those who had been appointed and choose to come were to meet and discuss what direction they were to take. According to Mithrandir, there were to be no secrets; they must learn to trust one another.

He entered the library to find that Mithrandir and the four Halflings were already situated around a table. A tall, golden-haired elf stood off to the side watching the breeze stir the garden outside. He took a seat in one of the empty chairs, and not a minute had passed before the dwarf of their company and Aragorn arrived.

Mithrandir looked up at each one of them in turn, then spoke. "As has already been made known to you, no oath or bond is laid before you to go further then you will. I know that some of you already have plans to divert your path from ours. That is your choice, but as we remain a Company each of you are to do your part and respect one another." His eyes darted to the elf and dwarf. "Those of us setting out are: Frodo Baggins, Ringbearer, Samwise Gamgee, Meriadoc Brandybuck, Peregrin Took, Aragorn son of Arathorn, Gimli son of Glóin, Legolas Prince of Mirkwood, Boromir son of Denethor and myself. Most of you have already met, and I would suggest you take the time we have to get to know one another. It will be a long, hard trip, and you need to trust each other." He looked back down at the map then continued. "Our path can not be certain, but as far as can be decided we will be traveling by night through Hollin; from there we will have a choice of ways, but that will not be decided on here or now."

Mithrandir looked at them expectantly. One of the hobbits stood up -- the one Boromir remembered who had found great amusement in the Great Hall a month before, over the incident involving spilt milk. "Gandalf, could I look at some of these maps? I haven't seen these before."

Mithrandir moved aside to allow the Halfling a better view. The dwarf, Gimli, grumbled a bit and then moved behind Meriadoc. "We have quite a distance to go, young hobbit." He addressed the Halfling and they were soon launched into discussion of their route, destination, and places they had already seen.

Boromir felt like when he had been a boy and forced to socialize and "get to know" other dignitaries' children. He had come so far in life, yet he felt like he was at the beginning again. He had never been very good at this sort of thing. Faramir, his younger brother, would easily make friends of anyone among them. Sometimes Boromir felt that his brother was better qualified to be Steward than himself.

Frodo and Samwise had begun a conversation on the Elvish language with Legolas. Boromir saw Aragorn bend down to speak to Peregrin. Boromir began to evaluate each of his companions, and found he was constantly looking again at the Halflings. Frodo and Samwise were now bent over the same map with Meriadoc. They seemed to be discussing something amongst themselves as Gimli and Legolas were having a grudging conversation. Aragorn and Gandalf were speaking of one danger or another, no doubt. The only one not in conversation at the moment was himself and Peregrin, who was watching the other Halflings but with no real interest.

Boromir sighed inwardly and decided if he was going to get to know any of his future companions he should start now. "Do you not wish to also know the route we will soon be taking?" he asked.

The Halfling craned his neck to look up at him. Boromir noticed the tips of his ears turned pink, probably with the memory of their last meeting. "I'm not very good with maps. I'll leave that to Gandalf, Aragorn and Merry. They will get more out of it then I ever would."

"What if you should become separated from the Company, would you not wish to know where you were?" asked Boromir.

"But Merry would know where we were," replied Peregrin.

Boromir wondered at the little one's conviction that if he were separated it would be with the other Halfling. He knelt down as he had seen Aragorn do; it must be difficult for them to have to look up like that all the time.

"Where do you come from?" asked Peregrin suddenly. He looked around at Boromir and grinned.

"I come from Gondor, a land far from here," replied Boromir. "I hope to return there on this Quest at some point. I have people to lead into battle, I can not leave that pressure on my brother."

"I hope you are able to return quickly then, is it very far?" asked Peregrin.

"For not being interest in maps you sure do want to know where a lot of places are," said Boromir, smiling slightly. "It is not far from the borders of Mordor -- this Company's destination, I believe."

"I didn't say I didn't want to know where things were, I said I wouldn't understand looking at a map," replied the Halfling, grinning cockily.

At that moment voices were raised voices at the table. "No, Frodo, you don't understand," said Meriadoc, his eyes flashing with determination. Peregrin murmured, "Ah, no." and moved over to the others.

Everyone's attention was soon focused on the Halflings as what seemed to be the continuation of an argument broke out again. "Merry, please, you could go home, you and Pippin could return to the Shire and continue your lives in a fairly normal fashion," said Frodo and Boromir was a bit startled to notice unshed tears glimmering in the Ringbearer's eyes.

"Frodo, it is not your decision, Pip and I are coming with you, like it or not!" replied Meriadoc hotly.

"You don't understand the danger, Merry," said Frodo softly.

"I know as much as you," said Merry, his voice softening. "I was chased along with you by Ringwraiths, I encountered those demons in the streets of Bree. Frodo, I have an idea what we are heading into. It scares me, I admit that, but it scares me even more to think about you alone in it."

No one pointed out that he wouldn't exactly be alone, as we watched the stand off between the Halflings. "Pippin at least should go back," said Frodo quietly almost desperately. "Your parents will be worried sick, Pip."

Peregrin stood a little straighter and didn't answer right away. "My dear cousin," he started. "Lord Elrond has already tried to dissuade me, I'm afraid it won't work. I even have Gandalf on my side for this one." He stepped forward and hugged Frodo tightly. "You want us to be safe, but some things are more important then one's safety, like friendship." He laughed. "Besides you mad Bagginses need someone to watch over you!"

Boromir noticed that a tear slid silently down Frodo's face and into Peregrin's curls. He seemed relieved and frightened by the prospect of his dear friends being put into danger because of him. Boromir knew only to well that feeling. He himself was proud to fight beside his brother, but it also scared him to think that Faramir was putting his life in jeopardy.

Quietly the members of the newly formed Fellowship filed out of the library. Peregrin kissed Frodo on the cheek. "I am hungry, when is dinner?"

Frodo laughed. "I hope you are willing to carry your own food all the way to Mordor."

"If that means Strider will let us eat, I will!" said Peregrin, releasing Frodo and trailing after Meriadoc.

Soon the only people in the library were Frodo, Samwise and Boromir. Boromir moved over to them. "Such loyalty is a rare thing," he said softly to Frodo. "I know you fear for their safety, but they will be your most loyal companions."

"I know," said Frodo, meeting his eye. "I am and will be eternally grateful to them; they lighten my burden just knowing they are near. They can take care of themselves, and it is not like we will be alone, we have you warriors to look after us. I think that will be enough." Then he added softer, "I hope it is."

Boromir squeezed Frodo's shoulder. "Family can make the biggest difference." He then turned and left the room. He vowed to himself that he would look after the two younger hobbits. Frodo did not need to worry for their safety, he would make sure of that. If this Mission was to be accomplished it would be best if Frodo could trust that his kin were safe.

Two weeks later the Company stood outside of Imladris. Boromir watched as Bilbo conversed softly with Frodo. Sam was stroking their pack pony, Bill, while Merry and Pippin stood unusually silent next to one another. In each face he saw grim determination, hope, and love. Perhaps the Ring was not entrusted to the strongest, nor the wisest, but maybe it was given to the best person after all. To be able to love and be loved in return, maybe this foolish mission could succeed after all.