After supper was devoured, Pippin returned to his blanket and prepared to settle down a second time. Boromir also wandered over to his blanket some feet away from them.

'Oh, how he wished to lie with him, to feel his arms as big as tree trunks wrapped snuggly round his delicate frame...'Pippin was knocked by such thoughts by the loud, rude voice of Merry.

"Hey Boromir, come lie over here! Don't go isolating yourself over there, it's rude!" The man's head snapped up and he grinned.

"I thank you Meriadoc for you kind invitation, I will accept."

Pippin paled visibly when Boromir came over.

"You can sleep here." Merry patting the ground with his foot where he intended Boromir to go, this was practically less than a hair's breadth away from Pippin. Merry smirked, pleased with himself. "You'll be thanking me later," he said quietly.

Pippin was quite dumbfounded, he did not know whether to love or hate his cousin for what he had done. Merry went to lie on the other side of Boromir.

"Merry, I thought that you would lie here, next to Frodo, like you always do. He'll be disappointed."

"What!" shrieked Merry. "Pippin, you just shut your trap!"

Pippin giggled, "Make me!"

Merry roared and leapt over Boromir. Pippin yelped as Merry began to pound him.

"Ow ow ow, I've just eaten arrrgg!"

"You'll pay for that you treacherous Took... ow... stop pulling my hair you ass!"

Boromir, who at first had sat back letting them sort out whatever problems they where having was now worried for the safety of both. They wrestled, trying to scratch the others eyes out. Eventually Merry, being the larger stronger one of the two, backhanded Pippin and the groggy Took found himself on the ground with a nose, which had just begun to throb a little. Blood tickled his nose and snarled: "That's it!" But Boromir grabbed both of their jackets and held them apart in the air. They swung fists at each other, yelling things such as, "Let me at em!" and "I'm not through with you yet villain!"

"Calm down you two, please! You are behaving like spoilt little children. Be still or I'll be forced to treat you like the children in Gondor and tell you a bedtime story to shut you up."

"Really?" they asked in unison, shutting up and looking immediately interested.

"Beware Boromir, there is no age restriction for bedtime stories in the Shire." Said Aragorn grinning at the comical scene of the two young hobbits dangling from Boromir's hands by their collars. Boromir grumbled, he did not mean the threat to go this way.

"Well," said Merry, folding his arms and legs still hovering above the ground, "Aren't you going to put us down so we can listen?" Pippin hacked; his shirt was being pulled up around his throat and was chocking him. Boromir put them down.

"What's the story about?" asked Merry.

"Umm, well, I, I'm sorry but I don't know many stories, sorry guys."

Merry and Pippin's faces turned to complete disappointment.

"Not even one?" asked Pippin, giving him puppy dog eyes, which he had used to get out of trouble for as long as he could remember. Boromir hated that look and he searched his mind for something to keep them entertained.

"Well, let's see here, well how would you like to know the tale behind my largest scar?"

"Oh yes please!" said Merry excitedly, "We'd love to hear that one, wouldn't we Pip?"

Pippin nodded fervently.

Boromir chuckled, "Well, it's not nearly as exciting as it sounds looking back on it, but for lads of your age the story may prove to be amusing."

"Can we see the scar Boromir can we?" asked Merry excitedly.

"Well, I don't know about that." Merry and Pippin's faces fell again. "But I guess I could..."

"YEAH!" they started before he could finish.

Boromir hesitantly took off his leather jacket. Suddenly, it registered in Pippin's mind; maybe Boromir did not want to show them the scar because it was in an unsuitable place. His cheeks flushed scarlet. Merry leaned forward to watch. Boromir slowly undid his thin shirt revealing a smooth, tanned skin underneath. Pippin's breathing hitched. He had to look away or he just knew he would start drooling, but his eyes where magnetically held onto Boromir's fingers as he slowing removed his clothing.

"Well there it is." Said Boromir. He had taken off that clothing way to quickly for Pippin's taste, he could have sat there watching that display forever.

"Woah! It's huge!" said Merry. Pippin shook his head and laid eyes on the biggest scar he had ever seen in his life. It started at Boromir's shoulder and ran in a fairly straight line down to his belly button.

"Can I touch it?" asked Merry.

"You may." He replied, smiling at the young Brandybuck's wonderment.

Merry reached out and snaked his finger along the scar. "Man, that would've hurt!"

"It did at the time yes, would you like a touch Pippin?" asked Boromir.

Pippin suddenly looked like a deer in the headlights. Would I ever! He thought. But just as he was about to he thought suddenly, what if I can't let go? It may sound silly to you or I but this thought was very serious to Master Peregrin. What if he touched him, and liked it so much he could not be removed.

"Um, I don't want to hurt you." He muttered lamely.

"I thank you for your concern Pippin, but I assure you that it does not hurt."

Feeling he had no more excuses Pippin reached out and touch his warm skin. It was soft and smooth and yet hard from the thick cords of muscle, which lay underneath. Pippin was lost then with a small cough from Boromir he removed his hand. Pippin was in a trance as Boromir put his clothes back on.

"Well on with the story." Said Merry cheerily.

Yes the story, now Pippin remembered the reasoning behind what had just occurred.

"Well," said Boromir, "It was a long time ago, you may not have been born at that time, but this is how I remember it..."

...

"Faramir you dog, give that back!"

Twelve year old Boromir charged up the stairs of the White Tower. It was an early Sunday morning, and Boromir had been up writing a secret love letter to a certain lass he shared classes with at the local school.

Faramir laughed out loud, "Mwaaaahahahahaa, I hold the key to Brom's undoing! Finally, I have beaten you big brother!" called seven year old Faramir in a high-pitched voice.

"If you ever show that to anyone you'll curse the day mother brought you into this world you little miscreant!" Hollered Boromir, feet away from catching his brother.

Up and up they ran, legs burning but never ceasing as they ran up the flights of the 50 odd story high building. Soon they had reached the top and Faramir ran panting in, catching his breath. The truth of the matter was that he would never really show that letter to anybody and he would give it back eventually. But Boromir didn't know that and Faramir was bored and wanted a bit of fun. He laughed a little thinking that he had lost him. And turned his back to read the rest of the letter.

"Oh no you don't!" Boromir came lunging up the stairs two at a time. Faramir yelped, he was trapped, on the top floor of the tower there was nowhere else to go.

"Ha ha! I have you now! Nice going Faramir but it seems I have beaten you at brains also!" he said as he menacingly approached the younger sandy haired boy. Just as he was about to pounce, Faramir leapt onto the open windowsill of the tower.

"Not yet! If you still want your lovey dovey letter to Gwilia back you'll have to follow me!" said Faramir as he backed out onto the thin ledge that wound around each level of the tower.

"Faramir are you crazy?!" shrieked Boromir in frustration and terror for his little brother. "Get back inside here right now!"

"We'll see who's crazy, if you want it Brom, come and get it!"

Boromir in a fit of rage ran up to the window and leapt onto the sill. He looked down, "Oh!" he squeaked, his insides freezing at how high up he was. He had often looked out of the White Tower on the balconies, but never from a windowsill on the top floor.

"What's the matter, you're not scared are you?" asked his younger brother a little mockingly, a little worried that maybe they shouldn't be doing this. As a rule, it was usually too dangerous if Boromir was afraid to try it, but Boromir growled:

"It is you who should be scared. I'm coming for you."

He crept out onto the sill and with his back to the wall slowly edged around.

Faramir grinned and began to edge away from him, giggling with the excitement of it all.

Far below, on the streets of Minas Tirith it was market day. Denethor, the Steward of Gondor and acting King was wandering around looking for some fresh pork for that night's meal. All of a sudden there came a shout.

"Look up there!"

"What is it?"

"It can't be? Is it?"

At that time Denethor looked up.

"What in all of Middle Earth are Boromir and Faramir doing outside the top floor of Ecthelion?"

As you can probably guess he was none too pleased about seeing the heirs of Gondor dilly-dallying around in what could potentially be an extremely dangerous situation.

"Boromir! Faramir! Get inside right now!" he yelled up.

Of course he was not heard.

"Gerond, quickly send forth word to the people in the tower to get my sons down from there." As his manservant left Denethor quickly went another way to another tower opposite Ecthelion.

Boromir was quickly gaining on his brother and was nearly in range to make a grab for his brother but just as he we had the instinct to look across. Down a bit in the adjacent tower he saw... HIS FATHER?! And he did not look like he was about to offer him sweets either.

"Sir!" he yelled out.

"What is it Brom?" Faramir asked.

Boromir just about jumped out of his skin, he had forgotten Faramir was there. But he did not jump out of his skin, he just, jumped right off the tower!

"Boromir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" yelled Faramir.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Boromir yelled.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" Denethor yelled equally loud.

Boromir began to windmill his arms and just as he was about to say his final prayers he felt something tear into his stomach right up to his shoulder. In his mind filled with adrenaline Boromir reached for the cold sharp thing that had cut him. He stopped falling. His heart very slowly began to slow down and he jerkily looked up to seen what he had caught hold of. It was one of the banner spikes. He grinned stupidly, such dumb luck that was. All of a sudden he noticed the pain in his side. He yelled out a bit pain and for help.

"Try to stay calm Son of Gondor." Said a familiar voice. It was Gerond.

A ladder was lifted up and Boromir was brought down. It was such a relief to be back inside again and alive.

Faramir came running in.

"I'm soooo sorry Boromir, I'll never do that again. I thought you where going to die!" sobbed the boy.

Boromir now sufficiently calmed down was able to have a try at a joke. "Yes, I am alive, but I am afraid that you will not be."

Faramir looked up, his eyes shinning with tears and began to cry again, he clenched onto Boromir's shoulders.

"Ow!" cried Boromir sharply. He grasped his shoulder and blood seeped out onto his hand. Gerond immediately went to Boromir's aid, who passed out from sheer exhaustion.

When he woke up sometime after his father was there by his bedside.

"Sir?" he asked timidly.

"That was a dangerous stunt you two pulled and you shall be punished severely for it. You just about gave me a heart attack seeing my only blood up there on the verge of death."

"I am very sorry sir, it will not happen again." He said apologetically.

"Yes, I felt that that scar that you'll get will be hindrance enough against repeating that exercise."

"My scar?"

"You have injured yourself quite severally Gondor's Son. This day will mark you the rest of your life."

"Where is Faramir?"

To that Denethor chuckled a bit. "Somewhere he wishes he wasn't," was all he said.

...

"There that was how it happened," said Boromir, coming back into the present and leaving that memory to burrow deep back into the recesses of his mind. There was a strange silence that followed, before Pippin blurted out:

"You wrote a love letter?!" he snorted with laugher at the very thought of Boromir ever writing a love letter.

Boromir was shocked that Pippin would find that the most important detail of the tale, he certainly did not think that was the highlight of it.

"Master Peregrin I am going to have to ask you to stop laughing. It is not that funny."

"Oh yeah, right!" sniggered Pippin.

"Right that's it I'm going to teach you a lesson you'll never forget, no one gets the best of Boromir!"

Pippin shrieked as Boromir reached for him and rolled away. Boromir grabbed him by the ankle and yanked him back and began to poke him all over with gentle fingers.

Pippin yelped and wriggled. "No! No! Oh Merry help!"

Merry who had been half listening to the story was now devoting his time to watching Frodo help Sam to clean up and clear away the cooking ware. He especially enjoyed it when Frodo had to bend over. But now his Frodo observation was rudely interrupted from the racket, which had begun behind him all of a sudden.

He grinned when he saw that Pippin was ultimately getting what he deserved. Boromir now had both of Pippin's wrists in a tight grip above Pippin's head. With his free hand he was tickling Pippin just below his under arm. Pippin was crying with laugher and was kicking his feet in an attempt to remove Boromir. Merry allowed himself to indulge in this play before he lunged at Boromir with a roar to get him to stop but only succeeded in getting into Boromir's grasp as well.

Legolas who had been spending the past half hour brushing his hair whilst having yet another argument with Gimli looked up to see Boromir trying to pin Merry to the ground while having Pippin leaping onto his back covering his eyes from behind.

The rest of the fellowship laughed at them until Aragorn got up and told the 'children' that playtime was over and that they would have to get a good night's sleep so that they could start of bright and early.

Boromir, in his present excitable mood said, "Yes sir, right away sir, whatever you say sir." Merry and Pippin giggled quietly before getting ready to settle down for sleep for a third time that night.

The firelight played red and black shadows across their faces. The Fellowship sat around it in their blankets.

Pippin had a smile as wide as the Anduin on his face. Whatever Merry had done, he was grateful for it. Boromir was sitting right next to him and yet he didn't feel like a complete bumbling idiot. He wouldn't have him know though; he did want to live the rest of his days being gloated to by his cousin. He sighed as he realized that he would have to return the favor with Frodo, though he had no idea how. He was not as clever as Merry in that department.

Merry was joking with Sam or rather at him. Sam, like everyone else, knew that Merry was never serious. Aragorn, Gandalf, Gimli, Frodo and Merry where all sharing in a quiet smoke and where discussing about trivial things such as where they would like to be in the next twenty years, to which Sam depressingly said:

"If we live that long."

And that convosation was ended, which led into another, and that was what Merry was teasing Samwise about.

Pippin sighed, feeling safe and warm in the company of his friends. He snuggled against Boromir's arm. Boromir grinned and Pippin giggled as he was lifted into Boromir's lap, wrapping his arms around Pippin in a bear hug. Pippin slipped down Boromir's chest looking like a small child in the arms of the large man when in actual fact Boromir would not have been that many years older than himself. Pippin could have sworn that he had died because if this wasn't heaven than he didn't know what to call it.

His eyes began to cloud over and the smoke curled into many smiling faces, Aragorn who was directly across from him was a coloured blur. He yawned sleepily and closed his eyes. Within moments he had fallen asleep leaning against Boromir's chest.

The discussion around the fire did not last much longer, the moon was rising and the clouds parted to reveal a million stars. Aragorn yawned and Gandalf suggested it was time to turn in. Aragorn looked across at Boromir, who was looking down at his lap. Aragorn could not describe the look on his face; it was a mixture of content, a little amusement and a deep fondness for the little creature in his arms. Aragorn's first reaction was "Awwww". The Gondorian's head shot up.

"What was that supposed to mean?" he asked sharply, mistaking the 'awww' for mockery.

"I meant nothing by it just that you two look so cute like that!" said Aragorn, getting a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Cute? Bah!" said Boromir.

"I've never seen this side of you before Steward. It's really quite... oh how shall I put it... adorable?" said Aragorn cheekily.

"Beware you may be my future King, but you are not the King yet. There is still plenty of time to kill you before that time comes." he said getting up, totally forgetting about Pippin until he moaned a little in protested at his snuggly bed's sudden choice to get up. Boromir instantly froze and slowly sat down again.

Aragorn and the others chuckled at the bemused expression on his face.

"What am I going to do with you Pip?" Boromir asked quietly under his breath.

"You are a case Gondor's Son," Aragorn whispered to himself.

TBC