Their time in Lorien was drawing short. It was in the air. They'd had many nights rest there, but none of them were able to forget why they were traveling, and talks turned more and more to starting out again and where to go from there.

He was silent during those talks, but then he always had been. He didn't know enough to direct the party, and it was understood that he and Pip would go where Frodo went. But he listened, though his eyes stayed normally on the ground and away from everyone around him. He heard Boromir argue passionately for returning home - that would be his course no matter what, but he wanted badly for the company to go along, to trust him that Gondor would prove as much a place of rest as Lorien.

But just as heatedly Strider argued against that, and talk dissolved into argument and Boromir's temper flared quicker these days. One evening in particular he grew infuriated that Aragorn would not even consider his idea, and he stormed away from them in a rage.

Merry felt safe to lift his eyes up then, and caught the bewildered looks of the rest of the company. "He is too proud," offered Legolas after a pause.

"Proud, but not unwise. Not unreasonable." Strider was looking out after him, his eyes troubled. "There is something bothering him."

"Bet I can guess what that is," said, of all people, Sam, sitting at his master's side and glowering darkly. Frodo leaned over and shushed him.

Strider's eyes went to Merry suddenly, and he looked at him for a long moment before looking away. "The cause doesn't matter. It's clear that we're going to lose one member of our fellowship at least very soon after we leave here. The choice still lies on the rest of us."

"And it won't be made tonight, that's clear," grumbled Gimli. "I think we will have to be at the very fork in the road before this choice gets decided."

Aragorn nodded at that with a wry smile. "That's very possible. But his eyes went out after Boromir and darkened again, and he fell silent.

Merry wasn't sure what he thought, but he knew whatever was troubling Boromir was no cause of his. He had been overheard dreaming impossible dreams, and though they may have bothered the man, they wouldn't have driven him to that sort of rage. This was bigger, but he imagined he hadn't helped settle Boromir's mood. He imagined if he were a responsible and brave hobbit he would find the man and talk to him until they were both clear on how his words were simply a flight of fancy and nothing more. But he wasn't brave, not for this, and he would rather never face Boromir's gaze again than face it and see disliking or disgust there.

But bravery wasn't needed in the end, anyway, because as Merry walked a slow path in and out of trees, listening to the low, clear songs of the elves above and thinking about leaving again, he was stopped by a figure in his path. And when he looked up it was Boromir he saw.

The man's eyes were dark and troubled, even in the shadowed light of day. He stood there, obviously to stop Merry but for a long moment he did and said nothing at all.

Merry drew in a breath and forced his eyes not to drop away. "Something's bothering you," he said quietly. "Something more."

Boromir moved then. "May I walk with you for a while?"

A flash of hope, cruel, was quickly stomped down. This was bigger than him, Merry knew. He couldn't stay so focused on himself. "Of course."

They walked, in silence for a few minutes, but Boromir spoke again before Merry expected it. "There is a rumbling in my mind, Merry. I don't understand it, except to know that it's something to be fought. It grows stronger, though, as we stay here."

Merry nodded. "I can tell. I think the others can to. At least they know there is something more to your words and your anger than pride in your home."

"Something more." He nodded. "I have had dreams, as vivid as I have ever dreamed, showing me the two roads this may take. The ring in Gondor or the ring somewhere else. I see my city ruined beyond hope, and I see it flourish and rise to even higher glory than in older days. My mind would tell me that without the ring my city is without even a breath of hope. But when I wake my mind isn't so sure. There are tricks in the air here, and the lady hadn't stopped her testing of my heart for even a moment."

"I don't think it's the lady," Merry answered thoughtfully. "I think it's you. She hasn't been testing the rest of us, but the visions she showed us follow us in different ways."

There was silence at that. Then, "What did your visions show you? You were vague before. Do I guess right that it was the lady and her tricks that led to the words I overheard by the fire days ago?"

"No." Merry spoke quietly, looking carefully at the path ahead but always strongly aware of the large presence beside him. "I mean, yes, in a way. She had shown me things, but not things she put into my head. Things she found there and made clearer."

Another silence. "Merry."

He shook his head, his eyes burning. "Please. We don't have to talk about it. I know everything you'll say, and I've always known it. If you had never overheard us you never would have known. No matter what my cousin encouraged or how our paths crossed in the future."

"I prefer knowing," Boromir answered softly. "We like hard honesty where I came from, and the truth never scares us."

"Not even an ugly truth?"

Boromir stopped suddenly, turning to look down at Merry. "I consider there to be very few ugly truths in the world. The enemy in the east is one. The idea that my men are dying in battle even now while I idle in the woods with elves is another. But I've heard nothing from your mouth that I would call ugly."

"Unpleasant, then. Impossible, Ridiculous. There are other words for what I mean." Still, Merry was relieved a bit to know he hadn't become twisted in Boromir's eyes.

"Impossible, perhaps," Boromir replied with a slow nod. He moved then, crouching to put himself at eye level with Merry. He reached out slowly, taking hold of one of Merry's hands in his and simply holding it up, looking at it. "You are so very small, Merry. A child in our eyes, so you've been told before. Even if there was no war, no future, no armies clashing and fates leading us all into different paths, you..."

"I'm small," Merry replied slowly, breathless with Boromir's hand on him and yet downcast thanks to his words. "I can imagine that must be odd."

"So very different," Boromir said, looking at Merry carefully. "Understand; I am incredibly fond of you. More than all others in our company, and more than I should have thought I'd be with anyone met out here in the wild. You have made my heart at times feel as light as if I were just a child myself. Even in the darkest times. You are brave, Merry - I've seen you fight now, and it made me proud to watch you, I think we would have grown to be great friends had we met outside this journey. An odder pair wouldn't have been seen anywhere."

"Please." Merry looked away at that, finding Boromir's kindness and his sincerity more painful than he would have guessed. "I don't need to here the whys and whynots. You may love honesty but at times I find it hard. Too hard to bear."

Boromir reached out then with his other hand, and large, warm fingers pushed at Merry's chin to lift his face up. He held his breath and looked back at Boromir, closer than he'd ever been to him before.

Boromir searched his eyes, and something sad glimmered over his features. "I had never really considered a future for myself outside of my position. One day I would have been Steward, and I would have wed a woman and bore more Stewards. I've never had occasion to think of love. I never knew the love of any woman, even my mother." He hesitated, then nodded behind Merry to the trees behind the path. "Come sit with me?"

Merry followed automatically, trailing behind him and touching his chin with fingers that felt especially sensitive.

Behind the line of trees Boromir sat, and Merry sat beside. Before there was a chance of losing his line of thought, Boromir took Merry by the hand again and spoke. "Soldiers will often seek each other for pleasure when there's no other choice to be had. We don't find that to be distasteful, if you were fearing so. In fact I very much doubt the too-gentle ministrations of a woman would feel as good to a man like me."

"Why are you telling me this?" Merry's voice sounded rough and ground up as he spoke. "Hope can be a meaner gift than honesty."

"Yes," Boromir sighed and released his hand. "It can. Even hope shared."

"Don't say things like that!" Merry looked at him evenly then, growing hot and nervous and angry. "This hope isn't shared, unless by Pippin who would hope for it just to make me happy. I'm small, so you said. Different. You don't hope anything about me,"

"I hope to have my friend back," he answered quietly. "My mind is unsettled and I need him to help me through it."

Merry's anger faded and he leaned in, placing the small hand he was suddenly so aware of onto Boromir's arm. "But you don't have to worry about that! I've been a moody ass thanks to all this, but I'd never stop being your friend because of it. I feared you finally knew one thing too much about me and would resent me, that's all. I'm sorry, and you here growing troubled without any help escaping it."

Boromir smiled at that, looking more relieved than truly happy. "Good. I'm glad to know that."

"Will you tell me what's troubling you? You were speaking before about your dreams, and the two fates your city might fall prey to."

Boromir sighed then, looking out at the dense trunk blocking them from any approaching eyes. "I fear, Merry. I fear a great many things. Of all those things, though, of every possible fate, I fear myself the most. "

"Yourself?" Merry leaned in, frowning, studying Boromir. He looked so sad that Merry's chest ached at it. Boromir had too many burdens on him - he ought to be made to smile as often as possible.

"I fear that my mind is weakening to this temptation. " He turned to Merry again, naked emotions on his face for Merry to see. "I don't trust myself, and I fear it will get worse. Will you watch me? The others already do, I know that. Aragorn at least. He has never trusted me with the knowledge we all carry. But you...I feel sure you might talk me away from madness if it gets too close. Will you help me?"

Merry blinked, astonished and pleased and scared and worried all at once in a confusing jumble. His mouth dropped open but the words came out seconds later. "Of course! I would do anything for you, Boromir. You'll not fall victim to any tricks, of elf lady or ring or your own mind. I'll see to that."

Boromir nodded. "Thank you." He took Merry's hand in his again and held it tightly. "I don't like feeling weak. The people of Gondor would never believe it to see it in me."

Merry smiled hesitantly, brave enough to grasp Boromir's hand in return. "Then you go on being brave and fearing nothing, and I'll take on all the worry and the doubt and I'll fret enough for any two people."

Boromir smiled at that, more sincere than he had all day. "I appreciate the offer, but if it were that easy to shed a person's fear than we'd all be much weaker-willed people than we are."

Merry moved up to his knees, to put himself at eye level with the man. "But as long as you know that someone's worried about them, maybe you can at least feel a little bit better. I'll do that for you. I think it's clear that the cares of us Shire folk are less serious than you big people. I have care to spare."

Boromir's eyes skimmed over Merry's face as he talked. "I wish there was some way to let you..." He trailed off.

Merry squeezed his hand. "But there is, I just know it. We may appear as children to you, but I'm not a child. I may have had a careless life but we have survived horrors since we left the Shire and I am wiser now than I was. It's not blindly that I offer to help you. I know your troubles may be too much for me to take on, but help I can give either way."

Boromir kissed him.

The gentle covering of a large mouth silenced Merry, and he was so shocked he pulled away almost instantly. He blinked round eyes at Boromir, at the same time a tightness in his chest loosened a hold he hadn't realized it held on him, and his breathing whooshed out of him as if he'd been breathing too shallowly for days.

Boromir studied him, meeting his shock with brave straightness.

But before he could say anything Merry realized exactly what had just happened and took a giant step forward, pressing him into Boromir as he tilted up to find his mouth again with fierce eagerness.

The covering of a hand pressed to his back, holding him near, and the softness of the kiss nearly undid him. He held his breath, shutting his eyes tightly and hoping he wouldn't open them to Pippin's face telling him to wake up and that half the day was gone. The mouth against his was light, yes, but searching, looking for something and settling in with a contentment that made Merry think they could spend hours without moving and both be quite happy.

They broke apart when breath forced him. He pulled back and had to take a breath before he dared to open his eyes. When it was Boromir he saw there he breathed out again.

The man's face was kind, but his eyes were burning. He lifted a hand to Merry's face, to touch his rounded cheek with rough fingertips. Merry shivered at the touch.

"So very different," Boromir spoke quietly. "But so very fair, and so dear to me."

Merry thought for a moment that he might cry, and wasn't that a foolish reaction when he'd just gotten something he had wanted so badly? "It will take a miracle for us to survive this," he said. "And another to let us find some similar path afterwards. But if we can somehow have those two, is it ridiculous to think that we might have a third, and somehow stay together?"

"I don't know," Boromir answered slowly. "I don't have enough trust in the first two miracles to even consider a third. But you know my heart now. Even if we never speak of it again, I won't have you doubt your value to me. You're no mere companion, Merry. You remind me in a lot of ways of Faramir, but you're not like a brother at all. I wish that hobbits were a bigger race, that I wouldn't so much notice our differences. But as things are I could be happy with you."

Merry hugged him spontaneously, grasping him around the neck. "You think about possibilities. Me, I'm going to put all my trust in miracles."

A low chuckle was his answer, and that large, warm hand found his back again. Another shiver went through Merry, and when he stepped back finally he regarded Boromir. "Well. I think you look more cheerful already. And now that I'm back looking after you, I think somehow things will be better."

"I don't doubt you're right," he answered with a smile.