The fellowship stopped at around midday for food and this time Boromir gave all of his to Merry and Pippin. He couldn't eat so he just had a little water. This time, however, Legolas saw him give his food away.
"Boromir," the elf addressed him, whilst laying a hand on his shoulder. "You did not eat anything, are you sure you're feeling ok? You hardly slept either, Gimli told me you took half of his watch as well as your own and half of mine." The elf sounded genuinely concerned and Boromir did not have the heart to snap at him, which had been his first intention, as he was not used to other people, apart from Faramir, watching out for his welfare.
"I am fine. I don't often eat and sleep much, I am used to it. I know where my limits are, Legolas," Boromir attempted to reassure him.
"Very well. But just remember Boromir, we are a fellowship, and if you need to talk or anything, someone will be there for you. I will be there for you."
"I know my friend," Boromir told him, gracing the elf with a smile, it felt good to know that someone was there for him, in a strange way, although he still did not want to get too close. He could not afford to allow himself to hope that this quest was going to end well, it was going to be hard enough as it was and false hope would make it harder. Legolas smiled back at him and moved to join Aragorn and Gimli, although he made sure that Aragorn was between himself and the dwarf!
Boromir drank some more water and then made sure that Merry and Pippin had. They hadn't up until he made them but Boromir knew the affects of dehydration first hand, and would not wish it upon anybody. Water was more valuable then people ever gave it credit for.
Boromir had to wrench himself back out of his memories as the fellowship began to move again. Once more he acted as rear guard and this time, to his intense relief, Merry and Pippin were walking with Sam and Frodo. It wouldn't do for Boromir to get close to any of them. He didn't mind if it ended in pain for him, he was used to pain. His whole childhood had been spent in pain, most of his life had been spent in pain. Even the happy times when it was just he and Faramir alone in their rooms usually either one or both of them had been in pain. But at least then they could comfort one another, knowing what was going on in the other's life.
Some of Boromir's happiest childhood memories were of just him and Faramir alone in their rooms. Times when they would sit and plan and look to the future and try to find some light and hope in the darkness that was their life. For a shadow had always hung over them and not just the one from the neighbouring land of Mordor, even when they planned all the great deeds that they were going to do. But this didn't stop them dreaming, it didn't stop them from sneaking out so that they could have some freedom and instead of drawing them apart, it drew them closer. Closer than most brothers ever are. Faramir was almost as protective of Boromir as Boromir was of his younger brother. It was another survival instinct.
Finally the fellowship stopped for the night in a small clearing. Unfortunately it wasn't very well sheltered and a harsh wind was blowing. There would be no fire tonight; it would simply be blown straight out after it was lit. Boromir sat on the ground, huddled near a rock, trying to find some shelter from the wind. Around him, the other members of the fellowship were doing the same. Not to far away from him Merry and Pippin were clinging to each other. Boromir was instantly worried that the might get blown away because they were so small.
Motioning them over to him, Boromir once again took his warm cloak out of his pack. He wrapped it around them and they almost collapsed on top of him in relief. Boromir didn't particularly like the situation, but he would not deny the two the comfort, which they craved from someone bigger and older than themselves. Putting an arm around both their shoulders he let them snuggle up close to him.
Looking around he saw Frodo and Sam huddled together in between Gandalf and Aragorn and not too far way from him Merry and Pippin, Legolas and Gimli sat.
He met Legolas' eyes and the elf smiled at him, his gaze flickering to the two hobbits the man held. Maybe there was more to Boromir son of Denethor than met the eye, the elf mused, and he was determined to find out what.
Seeing as the only food offered that evening was cold, no one ate much, it would be saved for the morning when hopefully the wind would have died down enough for them to light a fire.
Boromir didn't have watch duty that night and stretching out as much as he could he allowed Merry and Pippin to lie on top of him, his thick coat covering the three of them. Legolas and Gimli came and lay closer to them, all of the sharing body heat as much as the could.
Half way through Aragorn's watch, the first watch, the wind began to die down slightly. Boromir knew that he was going to have to get use to extreme weather conditions. Half on top of him, Merry and Pippin were sleeping peacefully and Boromir was reminded of how he and Faramir would curl up together like that when they were cold or scared, just to offer what comfort they could to each other.
Finally drifting off to sleep, Boromir was not surprised when he slept all night without waking once. Both he and Faramir found that they slept better if they were close together and with Merry and Pippin on top of him it was the nearest alternative. However, he knew that he could not afford to get too close. To do so would be death, for all of them. That was the one thing he didn't like about the fellowship, if he got too close he would end up hurting others as well as himself. He kept reminding himself of his vow not to get too close, but then something always seemed to happen which allowed others some interaction with him, which he normally wouldn't be comfortable with.
Opening his eyes he saw that Merry and Pippin where still asleep, their curly heads resting on his chest. Seeing that everybody but Frodo, Sam and Gimli was up, he gently shook the two young hobbits awake. They opened their eyes and looked at him blearily but stood up when he urged them.
The wind had just about gone completely now and he removed his thick, heavy cloak from around their shoulders. The sun was blazing down and it was almost clear enough for short sleeves and a cloak, but Boromir never wore short sleeves and neither did Faramir. They had to hide the self-inflicted scars on their arms. No one could know that the sons of the steward of Gondor cut themselves to find relief. That just would not do. And also Boromir did not want any of the fellowship commenting on it, he did not want to have to answer awkward questions about how he got the scars and then have to admit that he done them himself, or the Faramir done them for him. Somewhere along the line they had gotten creative and Boromir had Faramir's name carved into his arm and Faramir had Boromir's name carved into his arm in the same place. It wouldn't do for anyone to see those scars. They were personal and meant a lot to both Boromir and Faramir, to them it was a symbol that they were always together, that they were stronger together. But other people wouldn't understand them, they both knew that.
Boromir ate more than he had done for the past two days at breakfast and shot half a glare at Legolas when he saw the elf watching to make sure that he ate something. The elf merely smiled at him. Boromir gave his leftovers to the hobbits again.
By midday the fellowship was on a rocky hillside. Most of them where eating but Merry and Pippin had begged Boromir for a lesson in sword fighting, which he was giving them. Teaching them to parry, he was calling out numbers, much like his own teachers back in Gondor had done. "One, three, seven, good."
Next time round he caught Pippin lightly on his knuckles, causing the young hobbit to drop his weapon, moving forward to check that the hobbit was alright, Merry moved in as well.
Seeing that his cousin was ok, Merry aimed a light kick on Boromir's shins and Pippin got the idea and decided to attack as well. Boromir's first reaction was to push Merry away and he went to do it but when he saw the shock on the young one's face he stopped and let the attack come, falling on to his back and tickling them back when they started to attack him.
Boromir had had a close shave just then. It wouldn't do to get caught up in his past when he was with the two hobbits, he could end up hurting them, scaring them or losing their friendship. For despite his vow not to get close he knew that on a journey such as theirs he was beginning to understand that it was impossible not to get close.
Aragorn came over to offer him some help and ended up on the floor himself, not to far from Boromir. A cry of "for the Shire!" went up and Merry and Pippin redoubled their attack efforts on the men of Gondor. It was the first time that Boromir had felt any closeness to the man who was hopefully going to become his land's future King.
Aragorn and Boromir stood and held Merry and Pippin close when Legolas spotted winged creatures heading their way. Boromir wasted no time. "Hide!" he ordered and grabbed his pack along with Merry and Pippin's and threw them under a rock before concealing himself as well. Merry and Pippin joined him, burying into his tunic and staying quiet.
Once the creatures had passed, Gandalf was the first to rise. "Spies of Saruman, the passage south is being watched. We must take another road." Gandalf choose to lead them over the snow-covered mountains. Boromir didn't think much to the choice, but knew better than to argue. From past experience he knew that arguing led to pain, and it wouldn't make him look good at all. The fellowship packed up and quickly got on there way again. Merry and Pippin once again slipped their hands into Boromir's. He could tell that they didn't want to go up the mountain just as much as he didn't.
By that night the fellowship was at the bottom of the mountain and their path was just starting to slope uphill. They took shelter in a cave, where they could have a fire for warmth and light. Boromir gave away all his food to Merry and Pippin, who looked at him slightly concerned. Boromir just gave them a reassuring smile. He also sent one to Legolas when he saw the elf frown at him and also look concerned when he gave all his food away.
The elf broke his own bread bun in half and placed half of it in Boromir's hand. "Eat it, just so I feel better," Legolas whispered to him. Boromir stifled a sigh and ate the bread, shooting Legolas an 'I hope you're satisfied' look once he had finished it. The elf merely smiled at him.
Laying his head on his pack, Boromir stared out at the night sky. It was a lovely shade of blue and the stars where just pinpricks in the distance, sparkling like they always had for Boromir, whenever he and Faramir had stood at their window and looked at them. For Boromir and Faramir, the stars symbolised freedom, hope and peace. Things they had very little of in their lives. The stas were a constant in their lives. And that was why, before Boromir had left for Rivendell, they had carved stars into each other's arms, around their names. The cuts had just about healed over now, but Boromir knew that they would scar, the brothers had made sure that they would, cutting deep enough.
He now let his fingers slip beneath his sleeve and trace the scar that connected him to his brother, a constant reminder that his brother was out there somewhere, probably thinking of him. He couldn't wait to see his brother again, but for now, Boromir knew that he would have to be patient.
Looking at the mouth of the cave, Boromir saw the rosy glow of the fire, from further back. Considering that they were in a cave, Gandalf had decided that they didn't need to have a lookout that night, so everyone soon began bedding down, trying to get as close to the dying embers of the fire as they could. Only Boromir did not crowd around it.
A little while later when the fire had gone out completely the other members of the fellowship began to move about to give the others more room and get more comfy. Boromir felt two heads rest on his chest and he knew that it was Merry and Pippin. They once again had his cloak, and he had a feeling that they would have it every night of the quest that they were together.
Soon almost everyone was asleep judging from the even breathing coming from all around. One hobbit head moved on his chest, and then the other, alerting Boromir to the fact that Merry and Pippin were still awake.
"Boromir?" Merry whispered, somewhat hesitant, Boromir could tell. He knew that he had been distant all evening and had been somewhat surprised when Merry and Pippin had come to lay with him, but it made him realised just how hard it would be not to get too close.
"Yes, Merry?" he answered, wondering what the hobbits wanted.
"When we were sparring today, you tensed up, why?" Merry asked.
Boromir sighed. "I was merely thinking of when I learnt to spar and got lost in a memory. I'm sorry if I scared you."
"Tell us," Pippin begged.
"It is not a nice memory," Boromir warned him, trying to put them off, not particularly wanted to relive the experience, but not being able to say 'no' to the hobbits either.
"Tell us anyway," Merry pressed.
Boromir sighed again. "I was ten years old and working with one of my tutors on my fighting technique in one of the practice rooms. . .
Ten-year-old Boromir parried and parried again as his instructor called out numbers. For someone of his age he was doing very well, especially since the sword was about half the size of him.
He was tiring and his instructor told him to take a breather when his Father, Denethor, steward of Gondor, walked into the room to see how his oldest son was getting on.
"Continue," Denethor ordered and neither Boromir or his instructor had little choice in the matter.
They began sparring again, but Boromir knew that his trainer was going easy on him, giving chance to get his breath back. His shoulder was aching terribly, the sword felt heavy in his hand, but he knew he had to continue.
His father, however, was not impressed. "An enemy would not stop to give their opponent a breather, nor slow down so that it was easier for them. Give me your sword!" he ordered the instructor.
Now Boromir stood across from his father, the man he feared. "Attack," his father ordered him. Boromir could not and did not move. "Attack," his father ordered again. "Or I will."
Boromir still could not move, so his father attacked. He managed to parry twice before his father disarmed him. His father didn't stop there and kept attacking until Boromir had no choice but to drop to the floor and curl up in a ball.
"Pathetic," his father told him. "Stand up and face me like a man!"
Boromir managed to pull himself to his feet and stood with his head bowed. "Look at me!" he was ordered, but he didn't.
His father pulled his head back by his hair and looked with disgust at the tears running down his ten-year-old sons face. "Next time I want to see an improvement," he was told as his father struck him across his cheek. "Now get out of my sight!" And Boromir ran from the training room without a backward glance, as he had come to expect such behaviour from his father.
"And from that day on, neither me nor my younger brother Faramir arranged to have weaponry lessons while our father was about. We would have them early in the morning when our father was busy, and then practice sparring with each other late at night, when everyone else was asleep. I came out of that fight with my father with a cut across my cheek, an aching shoulder and a pain in my heart that my father had just done that from me. From that day on I vowed that my father would never again get one over me in a fight, and nor would he over Faramir. We both practiced enough to make sure of that," Boromir told Merry and Pippin.
Pippin couldn't help it. He shifted position and threw his arms around Boromir's neck, giving the man a tight hug. Merry joined it and the three fell asleep curled up with their arms around each other. Merry and Pippin not wanting to believe the story Boromir had just told them but they could tell from his tone of voice that he was not lying.
What they didn't know was that this was not an isolated incident and that most of Boromir's childhood had been like that.