There was so much conversation around and about him all through breakfast, people coming up to his little brother and welcoming him home mostly, as well as conversations with those he'd already been welcomed by, that Boromir was really unable to get a word in edgewise. He had a number of questions, that much was sure, and with every person who suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a hand on Faramir's shoulder, his questions grew. He really never could have dreamed that Faramir grew up amongst these folk in this place. It was almost too much for Boromir, and strangely, he rather missed everyone in his own part of the world who knew exactly who he was and at least gave him the time of day. Here, Boromir rather doubted these people even knew who the Steward of Gondor was. He could not have been more wrong.

At one point as Faramir was talking to the blond Elf who pulled him out from under the twin Elves, he turned to Boromir and said, "I've really been waiting to introduce the two of you. Boromir, this is Glorfindel, he is the one who taught me how to wield a sword."

Boromir caught himself just before actually saying, "you learned from an Elf?" There wasn't much else he could think to say for a moment, but that name was vaguely familiar to him. Boromir searched his memory of the songs his mumma used to sing when he was a child, always was she singing of some great historical persons. It was not coming to him, but because Boromir had always been in awe of Faramir's abilities he was not above asking. "A pleasure to meet such a truly fine instructor, I have never seen anyone handle a sword the way Faramir does. I have heard the name, sir, but I can not place where."

Faramir caught the incredibly smug expression on Erestor's face that replaced the one of weariness and agitation when he overheard Boromir's comment. "At last," Erestor thought, "the person who does not know Glorfindel of Gondolin as well as he knows himself."

Glorfindel himself was rather surprised and thought that perhaps the long journey in had just made the poor man too tired to remember even the greatness of the Balrog fight. "Gondolin, Glorfindel said, by way of a hint.

"No, Gondor," Boromir said, thinking he was correcting the Balrog-slayer. "Unless we were in Dol Amroth, mumma sang more of those old songs when we were there."

Glorfindel sighed inaudibly; this poor young soldier was confused. "First age," he tried, hoping to refresh Boromir's memory. Still, there was no clarity of insight in the man's eyes. "Balrog?" Glorfindel went on expectantly. Boromir just looked worried.

By this time even Erestor was tiring of this game. "Glorfindel is the exalted, reborn Balrog-slayer of Gondolin, Lord Boromir," he said, trying his best to sound pleasantly informative.

"That is my tale to tell, Erestor, I am the one who lived through it," Glorfindel said in indignation.

"Hardly! You are the one who died through it," Erestor said, sharpening his tone and infusing his voice with considerable wryness.

Elrond sat by listening to this bickering only so long. He could not recall his stress level being this high even during the Last Alliance. His headache continued to throb mercilessly until the poor Elf-lord was near sick with the pain and he did not know whether to scream or weep. This was so uncharacteristic, he was having a hard time pinpointing just what it was that was pushing him so over the edge. It could have been that his half-Mortal side chose this particular moment to make itself known, and if it was, Elrond's pity for that race deepened. That, however, was not what Elrond suspected to be the root and cause. It was the Ring, he was almost certain. He dearly wanted to call off the planned council but knew too well that it needed to be dealt with immediately; this thing was bigger than his own tribulations. Rising from his place, Elrond said, "those who have been summoned, please gather in the courtyard when you hear the bell toll. Thank you." With that he briskly away, begging the Valar for just a bit of their mercy.

Erestor rose then too and throwing a glare at Glorfindel, hurried to follow Elrond. Boromir silently looked at his brother in question, but Faramir just shook his head with a light smile. "They have been like that ever since I can remember and many centuries before. You will get used to it; in fact, I'd feel strange if they were ever even slightly more than civil to one another." Faramir turned to his father seated across from him and leaned in. "Is daeradar all right? I have never seen him like this."

"Nor I," Aragorn said. "I do not think he has slept, in any manner, since we arrived a few days ago. He has to be exhausted after healing Frodo and I know that this council is going to be a trial for him. I do not think that any of us is accorded rest lately though." Faramir looked a little perplexed about the situation, but knew enough to let it go until later. Aragorn rose and said, "I will be back in time for the council, just now there is someone else I need to see. You might come as well, Fara', I know she will want to see you." Faramir wondered what his father could mean and decided to go along, bidding his big brother farewell until later.

Boromir looked almost abandoned just sitting there as others around him began to slowly leave the dining hall. There were precious few people he even recognized in this place as it was, though he'd seen the grey wizard who had been seated next to Elrond a few times in Minas Tirith. He hardly ever spoke to him, however, knowing that his father did not trust him.

"Perhaps we will have a chance to spar sometime, you and i?" Glorfindel said as he too was leaving.

"Aye, I hope that we shall," Boromir said, though if this Elf was better than Faramir it would likely be more humiliating than anything else. Had he met this Elf anywhere else he'd have had enough sense to decline the invitation. If it was true that he'd battled a "Balrog" (whatever that was, it sounded bad), Boromir shuddered to think what he could do to him.

Just as he was feeling totally left alone, a chipper young person came up to him and, with perfect, guileless candor, asked, "so, where are you from?"

At first Boromir thought him to be an Elfling, but he rather doubted that any Elf had feet like that. For a few moments he just looked in wonder at the outspoken little one. "I am from Gondor," he answered eventually. "Boromir of Gondor."

"Ah, well, Pippin of the Shire, in that case," the Hobbit said with a smile. "I thought you looked a bit left out, so I thought I might come and say hello, since there are so many different people here."

"Very kind of you, Master Pippin, thank you," Boromir said. "Are you, by any chance, a Halfling?" Boromir said almost cautiously.

"I'm a Hobbit, if that's what you mean," Pippin said. "Are you a Ranger?"

"No," Boromir replied, "I am a soldier in the Guard of Minas Tirith, Captain-General, actually, if such things matter here."

"Oh, that sounds important," Pippin said thoughtfully, or as thoughtfully as Pippin could manage.

"Aye, terribly important," Boromir said with a touch of sadness in his voice. Suddenly he started to feel what the real weight of leadership was, being around such an innocent, carefree person rather prompted Boromir to look at himself in comparison.

"Are you one of those who have been 'summoned?'" Pippin asked.

"I guess I am," Boromir said. "Only I am not sure how much longer it will be until we are called. I was just going to sit here and wait, as I guess this hall is also used for meetings. I do not really want to go out into the house again. I was lost this morning looking for the way to get downstairs."

"I know what you mean," Pippin said sympathetically. "I feel pretty small here, too. Well, I guess to you I am small, though at home I am considered rather tall. But then that isn't too surprising for Tooks anyway. Well, i don't know my way around here too well yet, but there is one thing we learned to find quickly enough. Merry and i, i mean, he's my cousin... well, Frodo is our cousin as well, sort of, though he's rather distant. Distantly related, i mean, not unfriendly. I don't think any of us are related to Sam though, not much leastways. But anyway, i was saying, we did find the way to the kitchen rather quickly, and i can show you if you like. I think we might have found the wine cellar, too. Not that we were nebbing around, mind, we were just rather bored waiting for Frodo to wake up, and as usual Sam was no fun at all."

Boromir was silent for a few moments, trying to process all that meandering information and rather expecting there to be more.

"So... shall we go?" Pippin said, after catching his breath.

Boromir shrugged and said, "why not?" For a bit they walked about in the underground areas of the Last Homely House where all of the extensive cooking facilities were, they then went back up to the gardens surrounding the house, rather sure that they could not get too lost there.

Boromir was rather enjoying being around someone who was so full of life. It was the sort of thing that one did not encounter very much in Minas Tirith and here in this Elven land all that Boromir had encountered so far was utter mystery. This little Hobbit, however, though slightly unusual, was not in the least mysterious or detached as these Elves seemed to be, nor wary and guarded as the Dwarves acted. This Hobbit seemed to be a wholly natural being, whereas the Elves, who would claim to be so as well, seemed more to Boromir to be in fact supernatural.

At some length a loud, clear bell pealed in a tower above. Pippin jumped up faster than Boromir did and said, "well, farewell, have a nice time at your council." The little Hobbit sounded hurried and a little too innocent, but Boromir thought nothing of it really. He went back to the dining hall the way Pippin had shown him did found no one there. A passing Elf looked at him for a moment before asking if he was seeking Elrond's council.

Boromir, slightly bothered at what he considered a mildly obtuse question considering the fact that he thought it obvious he didn't live there, only nodded.

"Come with me, then," the Elf offered. "I believe we are meeting in the courtyard. I overheard Master Erestor earlier saying that the hall would not be available. I am Legolas of the Woodland Realm."

"Boromir of Gondor, pleasure to meet you," Boromir responded.

Legolas looked surprised and on the alert. "You know of me?"

"No," Boromir said simply.

Now Legolas looked curious. "Then how do you know it is a pleasure?"

Boromir shrugged at the Elf's strange reaction. "It is what is always said."

"Even though you do not know of me?" Legolas asked.

"Well, it is merely polite," Boromir said, finding it strange to have these notions he'd grown up not even questioning so dissected.

"Do Men always say things simply because it is considered gracious to do so, even if you do not mean what you say, or even know what you are saying?" Legolas asked with an odd little grin.

Boromir really had no answer for that. He supposed the Elf was probably right, but it rather annoyed him that he could not simply take a civility for what it was. Fortunately, he was saved from having to say anything as they arrived at the courtyard and Boromir found his little brother sitting with his father (though eager to dissect his idea of courtesy, Boromir had a feeling the Elf would likely expect a response from him, as a matter of politeness, naturally).

For a while there was some general talk, mostly in cliques divided by race: Elves spoke with Elves, avoiding Dwarves who spoke with Dwarves, and the Men spoke amongst themselves also. These lines were crossed only by the two Hobbits who were present, for they talked with Elves, Dwarves, and Men alike. Some Elves talked to Aragorn and Faramir, but obviously those who had known them for years. The blond Elf who had walked with Boromir also spoke at length with Faramir's father, though their conversation was in an Elvish tongue that Boromir did not understand.

At a break in the conversation, Boromir realized a breach of etiquette when it came to him that he never did get Faramir's father's name. "I truly have to apologize, but I am afraid I do not know -" Boromir began to say to Aragorn, but he got no further, as at that moment Elrond appeared and asked that everyone be seated. Boromir sighed, guessing that he would find out soon enough. Boromir was about to sit next to Faramir, but there was already an elderly Hobbit there. Sitting at the other side of the Hobbit, who greeted Boromir very genially, Boromir completed the circle and found himself again with the curious blond Elf.

Faramir felt that he should have introduced Boromir and Bilbo, but guessed that would be taken care of soon. He was relieved that Elrond was looking at least slightly better than he did at breakfast. Elrond indeed did take care of introductions, by way of pointing out to Frodo those he had not met. Yet, his daeradar had not mentioned everyone present and it seemed to Faramir that he may have purposely not spoken of his father just yet.

Introductions through, for the most part, news was formally exchanged. Boromir spoke of Gondor and the dream that he and his "brother" had, so used to calling Faramir his brother was he.

Glancing at his son and then to his father for a longer moment, Aragorn nodded almost imperceptibly and rose, bringing forth the Sword that was Broken, laying it upon the table, and saying to Boromir that more would be made clear to him here.

Boromir looked at the man who he knew only as his "little brother's" father, and finally finished the question he began earlier. "And who are you, and what have you to do with Minas Tirith?" Why there was a less than friendly tone in his voice, Boromir could not explain. He bore this man no ill will and only wanted to know who he was, but he spoke in such an overconfident way, as if to declare himself better than this man.

Faramir had only heard that tone in his big brother's voice once before, just as they were setting out from Minas Tirith, Boromir seemed so unwell and had snapped at Faramir for being concerned about him. Something in Faramir's mind and heart told him that these reactions were not wholly his brother's.

Elrond answered Boromir's question, revealing the name of Aragorn and calling him "descended through many fathers from Isildur Elendil's son of Minas Ithil." As Boromir wore an expression of complete and utter shock, Gandalf decided it was time to tactfully move the conversation from Isildur's heir to Isildur's Bane, and he asked Frodo to bring forth the Ring, that Boromir might understand better the reason he and Faramir were called. It was Gandalf's intention to attempt to stay away from the subject of lineages entirely.

Faramir, watching Boromir closer than he was the Ring, noted clearly a glint in his brother's eyes that somehow washed over the shock that had been there. Faramir sighed, deeply troubled, and wondered why he was ever glad that Boromir had come with him this time. There was a warning in Faramir's heart that it would have been better had Boromir never laid eyes on the Ring. A quiet, wondering voice came from Boromir that did not seem to be truly his own as he questioned the doom of Minas Tirith and the broken sword. Aragorn, however, turned the topic back to Elendil, asking if it was Boromir's wish that what was left of the House of Elendil return to Gondor. Faramir closed his eyes then, knowing that whatever his brother's answer was would be very telling, for good or ill. It came to Faramir that he wondered just how much he really knew about the man he called brother for the last 15 years.

"I was not sent to beg any boon, but to seek only the meaning of a riddle," Boromir said, again speaking in that arrogant tone. This time, though, Boromir did know why he spoke thusly, and Faramir knew also that it was no outside influence. Boromir then added, speaking more like himself, that the Sword of Elendil would be a true help to his people, and he sounded hopeful for a moment of what could be and be restored. "If such a thing could indeed return out of the shadows of the past," he continued, sounding again doubtful. To Faramir, it was like seeing a child who'd had too many dreams crushed and no longer trusted hope, and it saddened him.

Others, however, were not so generous. The elderly Hobbit stood suddenly, and with every bit as much pride as Boromir had spoken with, he recited lines about gold which does glitter, roots and frost, ashes and fire, renewed blades and crownless kings. Then the little man went so far as to actually admonish Boromir for having to hear more than words of Elrond to understand the point and outright telling him that he'd best listen to it.

Aragorn, on the hand, just smiled. He understood Boromir's position likely more than anyone else in attendance, for he knew that Boromir was not only Denethor's son, but Finduilas's as well. Aragorn was able to forgive Boromir's misgivings, but also explained to him in plain terms that whether he considered him a rightful heir or not, the work of the Dúnedain Rangers was no less than that carried out in Gondor.

It was then Boromir's turn to wish to change the subject from heir to Ring, wanting more proof of the validity of the thing. It was altogether too much for him to try to consider at the moment, the possibility that this man was the long-since deemed mythological Heir of Isildur, rightful owner of the Crown of Eärnur. More than that, that Faramir was his son, the he'd called his little brother and had spent 15 years in the company of, was actually of this bloodline and could one day make a claim to the Throne of Gondor...

Boromir listened less than half-heartedly to the long-winded tale the aged Halfling presented to the council, he was still trying to get his mind around the fact that his little brother was someone no one believed existed. Nor did he listen much to the words of Gandalf. Only at the mention of his father did he again show any signs that he was not entirely deaf. After that, though, his thoughts drifted again and when his eyes were not on Faramir, trying to understand, they were on the Ring. The Wizard seemed to conjure some darkness to fall about the porch where they were seated and Boromir became pale.

Only now and again did Boromir speak at all, it being the way his father had taught him to behave in a council, to never let your voice be forgotten, no matter what you must inquire of or make statement on. Still, it was plain that Boromir was distracted for his comments were mostly general and only did he speak of whatever had been the last thing said.

When discussion began of what was to be the fate of the Ring, Boromir then did listen, intently, as if it was his own life on the line. When all that was proposed was either hiding eternally or destroy, Boromir seemed to grow anxious and spoke again of the glory and strength of Gondor and what could be achieved through using the Ring to their own ends. He was, however, gainsaid and told most clearly that no matter what one hoped to achieve through use of the Ring, that it would be twisted to evil in the end, such was the only true power of the One Ring. Boromir knew that his lot, for now, was tactful silence.

His thoughts wandered again for a while, though his mood was no longer so much wondering as brooding. The Council concluded with the decision that destruction of the Ring was the only possible course, and in a surprise, the younger Halfling who had borne the Ring to Imladris made the offer to be the one to bring this thing to it's end. Boromir sat for some while as others left the porch. He sat with a deeply thoughtful expression, eyes trained on the table where both the Ring and the hilt of the Sword of Elendil had sat before.

Faramir came up to Boromir and, resting a hand on his shoulder, said gently, "come, brother, let us eat together."

Boromir sat still for a moment or two, then raised only his eyes to meet Faramir's. His voice was low as he said, "i was not aware that secrets were kept between brothers." He rose then, and walked down from the porch and into the garden where he had walked with the Halfling early that day, before the world had changed right before his veryeyes.

ooo

An extra, extra, extra long chapter tonight. I know this one has been long awaited, and i will try to get another chapter in this week yet, but after Friday evening, i can't promise much for at least the weekend, into mid-week perhaps. I don't anticipate doing much this weekend other than reading!

linda: I have come to see the value of responses, though i did not used to post them. The way i see it, i am so pleased that my readers/reviews have taken a moment to not just read, but also comment, i owe it to you guys to at least say thanks.

Elenhin: I rather wish i was brave enough to confuse people upon first meeting them. It would be very interesting, though i am rather too reserved for that, unfortunately. I am not sure i don't confuse people anyway though, i can be full of surprises and even some contradictions. I've had people try to confuse me at first, but i just play along, living vicariously through their fun. But, yeah, that's the twins, doomed to never entirely grow up.

The Last Hope: Everyone loves the twins! They can liven up any scene.

grumpy: Erestor may well have an orc or two put up in some room or other, and to have to deal with Elrond, Glorfindel, and the twins on top of all that... he really deserves a raise.

blanko: You are most welcome! I would not say that i am the best, but thanks.

steelelf: I think slaying a Balrogmight be preferable to attempting to take on both Elladan and Elrohir, had they been seriously angry.

Artemis: Welcome, glad to hear from you! I am glad you have sympathy for Elrond, he needs it. So too do others at the moment. eyes the pitchfork, wondering what use that might be put to...