What Empty Places are For

Chapter two

It was a long ride to Great Smials and Boromir had had plenty of time to think about what he might find, but nothing he had imagined could have weighed so heavily on his heart as the situation he found. He had no more than pulled his sturdy ponies to a stop when Faro had come barreling out of the little round door, leapt into the wagon and wrapped his little arms so firmly around Boromir's neck it nearly choked him.

"Uncle Bom, I'm so glad you're here. Please, come and see Da. He's not himself at all anymore." The young Took said. He was sniffing back tears. "After Uncle Merry left, he went to the cellar and got the brandy. He's…well, he has been drinking. Drinking a lot."

"Oh, little one, I'm so sorry," Boromir took a few minutes to comfort this child of his dear friend. Faro was so young, only in his early twenties, younger even than Pippin had been when they had first met. The lad's resemblance to his father made it all the harder to bear for Boromir. Faro was weeping now, and the young hobbit's hot tears dripped down Boromir's neck.

"Not a sign of a handkerchief, I'll warrant." Boromir said, gently taking the slight shoulders in large, warm hands. He held Faro at arm's length and fished out a handkerchief. "No? I thought not. So like your father."

Boromir dried Faro's tears and made him blow his nose. The remarkable green eyes, just like Pippin's, caught him for a moment. A dangerous business, looking into those eyes. Boromir thought for a moment he was looking into the eyes of Firiel or Pippin.

But these eyes were quite red-rimmed and swollen with sorrow. He picked Faro up and carried him to the door, which had been left open. Boromir didn't bother to knock. He put Faro down and gave the youngster a pat on the bottom.

"Go and see if you can get cook to make some coffee. Strong. Lots of it." He said gently.

Faro nodded, not wanting, apparently, to leave Boromir. Boromir rested his palm against the soft round cheek, using his thumb to wipe away an errant tear.

"Faro, would you like to go for a nice, long visit with Borry? Would you like to go to Uncle Merry's home?" he asked, forcing a smile.

Faro nodded, smiling now through his tears. Again, he threw his arms around Boromir's neck, this time planting a wet little kiss on Boromir's cheek.

"Then go and get cook to make the coffee, and go and get your things. You, young hobbit, are going to Brandy Hall."

"But what about Da?"

"I'll take care of your Da. Don't worry, now. You have Borry and Aunt Estella and Uncle Merry, and you have me. We shall sort things out. Now, where is your Da?"

"He… he has locked himself in the study, Uncle Bom."

"Well, we shall see about that." He gave Faro a gentle hug. "Now, about that coffee?"

"I'll go right away. Now, in fact!" Already the young Took seemed more comforted. He scampered down the long hall to the kitchens.

Boromir knew his way around Great Smials. He did his stooped walk down the hall and noticed the portrait of Diamond was draped with a black cloth. Bitterness laced with sorrow filled his heart. He reached out and snatched the cloth away to reveal the portrait of Diamond, breath-takingly beautiful Diamond, now lost to them all. He recalled how she used to call him her "prince in disguise." He blinked back tears. No time for that, now. Pippin needed him. Pippin needed him as surely as he had ever needed him on the Quest. He had not run from his obligations to his little friend then, and he would not do so now. He took a deep breath.

"Right," he said to no one at all, then went further down the hall, still clutching the black cloth. He came to the study door, turned the knob, and sure as sure, found it locked. He rapped on the door.

"Pippin?" he called. No reply. He rapped harder. "Pippin! Open the door, Pippin, it's me, it's Boromir."

This time there was a reply. "Go away! I'm not taking any visitors right now."

Heavens above! Pippin was drinking alright. He sounded positively drunk.

"I'm not going away. Open this door this instant, Peregrin Took!"

"No!"

"Pippin, open this door right now."

"Piss off!"

"You open this door right now or I'm going to kick it in, and I may even wash your mouth out with soap!"

"You wouldn't dare. Piss off!"

"I wouldn't…? Why you little rascal!" And with that, Boromir raised his foot and gave a powerful kick. The doorframe burst and the door swung drunkenly inward.

Boromir walked into the study. Pippin tried to get up, but staggered back and fell back into his chair.

"Get out!" he shouted.

"I will do no such thing. Look at you! What's the meaning of this?"

"I told you to get out!"

"No." Boromir crossed his arms, still clutching the black cloth. "Look at you! You're sotted! Now get up, you're going to have some coffee."

"Leave me alone, you great git! Get out!"

"Pippin…" Boromir was getting really irritated now.

"Don't 'Pippin' me, I said leave! Go! Get out! You aren't welcome here!"

Boromir held out the black cloth like an accusing finger. "What do you think you're doing? This isn't helping. It won't bring Diamond back, and you'll lose your son."

"That is none of your business."

"Oh, yes it is!" Boromir said. He strode to the chair and pulled Pippin up. Pippin kicked him, then punched him in the stomach.

Boromir could have done many things at that point, but the only thing he could think to do was pull Pippin to him, lifting him off his feet. He held him tightly and let Pippin struggle until he was exhausted.

"I will not go away." Boromir said firmly. "I will not leave you like this. Your son depends on me to help you, and I won't let him down, even if you do."

"Let me go!"

"No! I will do no such thing! Pippin, you must stop this! You have to! You have a son to think about."

"Let me go!" Pippin said. He reeked of brandy. Boromir turned his face away from the smell.

"Stop it!" he said, "You have to stop it! You're too drunk to think right now. I'm taking you home."

"I am at home, you ass!"

"Not your home, my home."

"No. You can't make me."

"I can stay until you will come."

"Oh, can't you just leave me alone?"

"No, I can't. Someone once told me friends look out for each other."

"You would use my own words against me?"

"Not against you, though if it comes to that, yes. I'm using them to remind you of something you taught me."

"Boromir, please, put me down, please leave."

Ah ha! Now he's breaking down a little. Boromir thought.

"I can't leave, Pippin. I have to help you, because that's the only way I can help Faro. Do you know what this is doing to him? Do you?"

Pippin went limp, then slowly, his arms went around Boromir's neck in an embrace that was so tight he almost couldn't breath. He began to weep.

"What is it with you Tooks? This is twice I've nearly been strangled today, first Faro, and now you."

Pippin laughed through his tears. "It's like that, is it?" he said.

"It is. Where is your handkerchief? No, don't answer. You haven't got one. Again." Boromir didn't have a spare handkerchief, so he used the sleeve of his shirt to dry Pippin's tears.

"Now, let's get some coffee in you. Please, Pippin, do come home with me? This isn't good for Faro, and it isn't good for you and…well, I miss my Saro so much, and I thought maybe it would be a good thing…?"

"Boromir?"

"What?"

"I think you should put me down, now. I think I'm going to…"

Boromir saw it coming and barely had time to put Pippin down. Pippin began to vomit violently.

"Oh, my." Boromir said, "Maybe coffee isn't such a good idea."

"I think I should lie down, now."

"I think you should. Will you come to my house for a nice, long visit?" Boromir took the black cloth and cleaned Pippin up as well as he could.

"I just want to lie down right now."

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

"Just help me to the sofa."

"I'll do better than that." Boromir picked Pippin up once more and took him from the study. Cook was coming with a pot of coffee, but with such a large obstacle as Boromir bearing the Master of Great Smials in his arms, she had to back up. Boromir knew where Pippin's room was, but when he stopped at the door, he saw the hobbitess shake her head, and he understood that Pippin was no longer using this room. He thought about it a moment, then raised his brows in a silent question. She led him to the guest room, put the tray on the floor and opened the door for him. Boromir put Pippin in the bed and covered him.

"Could I please have a cup of that coffee?" he asked. "This may take a while."

She quietly eased out of the room and returned with a cup of steaming coffee for Boromir.

"Och!" she hissed, "Bless him, he's been sick. What a smell. My poor master!" she burst into tears, and for the third time that day, Boromir had his arms full of a weeping hobbit. Someone really ought to have warned him about hobbits.

To Be Continued