"The Nine have been chosen, I hear," I said, hoping to stir the Wizard seated across the room, but his pipe continued to produce puffs of smoke with an unfaltering rhythm. Clearing my throat, I spoke again. "Gandalf?" No pause in the smoke clouds. "Gandalf?" I repeated, a little louder, feeling somewhat like a child, trying to attract his father's attention.
"Hmm, oh, what's that, Boromir?"
"The Nine," I repeated, "They've been chosen."
"Indeed."
I raised my eyebrows, hoping Gandalf would continue. He neglected to speak.
"Will there be two more from Lord Elrond's house?" I prodded, curious not about the elves, but the two halflings I had chanced upon in the garden of Rivendell. Samwise would make the journey, I felt certain, and although I was fairly sure Meriadoc and Peregrin would not stand to be left, I hoped I would not have to bid them farewell. Peregrin, especially, I had grown on.
"Ah, yes," Gandalf lifted the pipe from his mouth, "The first seven, you already know. Meriadoc and Peregrin insisted they not be left behind, and I doubt I am nearly cunning enough to wage an argument with Master Took." A loud crash echoed through the stone room from some distance down the hall. "Between you and me, Boromir," Gandalf smiled, "I believe Lord Elrond's house will welcome the peace."