"There you are!" Frodo exclaimed as he opened the door to the Hobbit's hole, then frowned as Boromir ducked through. "What's wrong? What did Elrond have to say - not bad news from home?"

"No, nothing like that." Boromir smiled reassuringly and sat down in the man-sized easy chair Bilbo kept in the parlor. "He made an offer, which I refused."

"An offer that upset you so much you had to go off to your beach to recover." Frodo observed. Boromir looked his surprise. "You have sand on your boots." the Ringbearer explained. "What was it, or would you rather not say?"

The Man smiled wryly. "Lord Elrond wanted to teach me certain arts against my return. What my old friend Theodred would have called 'dwimmer craft' and your Sam magic."

"Oh." Frodo considered. "No, not the sort of thing you'd care for at all."

"It is not!" Boromir agreed with emphasis.

"Still Elrond must have good reason for wanting to teach you." the Hobbit continued. "Maybe you're going to need magic when you go back."

"Need or no I cannot learn it." the Man answered almost defiantly. "My father and brother were gifted with the power, but I am duller clay. The wisdom of Numenor passed me by.

"But you are wise." Frodo said quietly, settling himself in one of Hobbit sized easy chairs. "Not in lore or magic but about people." he grinned. "Look at the way you took Merry and Pippin in hand!"

"I was not wise about you, Ringbearer." Boromir smiled.

"Oh yes you were." the Hobbit said, turning serious. "Once you understood I was not the youngster I looked. You saw inside me as easily as Aragorn or Gandalf. Everything you said in our last conversation was true - that was what was so frightening." Frodo shivered. "It would have been so easy to give in, to do what you wanted, even though I knew it wasn't you but the Ring talking."

Boromir had already apologized more than once to Frodo for his attempt to take the Ring, he didn't bother to do so again. "And there is the crux of the matter. I cannot, dare not trust myself with power, Frodo, not after the Ring. I am too weak, too easily corrupted."

"Not easily." the Hobbit disagreed. "You fought it every step of the way, you know you did, and it's not your fault you lost. Even Gandalf feared the power of the Ring - you heard him say so himself."

Boromir shook his head. They'd argued about that too, more than once, and he wasn't about to go into it again. "I do not trust myself, Frodo. Even if I could learn such things I will not. It is too dangerous."

Boromir knew Mithrandir and Elrond too well to believe that his refusal would end the matter. No doubt they would try again to persuade him - and again, and again after that! but a Man can out stubborn a wizard or even a Half-Elf if he is determined enough - and Boromir was. All he had to do was go on saying no however many times it took.

Days passed and nothing further was said, but Boromir was not reassured. He took to eyeing Mithrandir and Elrond warily whenever they met, wondering what they were plotting. He didn't doubt he would be equal to whatever they came up with but he wished they'd get on with it for the Hobbits' sake. Frodo and Bilbo were becoming distressed by the strain between their friends.

Then, one day as he was sitting on his beach Boromir saw a ship go by. This was not unusual, the white swan ships passed frequently between Eressea and Alqualonde, but this was not a swan ship.

It was both shorter and wider than the other Elven ships Boromir had seen, and weathered grey instead of shining white. And there was an Eagle not a Swan carved upon the prow and the white sail was embroidered with the clustered spears of the House of Hador, a device of Mortal Men, not Elves.

Boromir came to his feet and watched the strange ship till it sailed out of sight around the headland. He was no scholar but he knew the ancient tales as well as any Man of Gondor and it wasn't hard for him to guess whose ship it was.

"This is Tuor, my grandsire." Elrond said, introducing the tall, golden haired Man at his side. "And this is Frodo the Ringbearer, Bilbo the Ring finder and Boromir of Gondor."

Boromir, having seen Earrame sail past on its way to Eldalonde was not entirely taken by surprise but rendered speechless none-the-less. He bowed.

Bilbo and Frodo were surprised but far from speechless - especially Bilbo. "Honored sir, honored. Goodness the people one meets here!"

"It's very exciting for us." Frodo explained.

"And for me." Tuor said, smiling down at the Hobbits. "I am honored to meet the Heroes of the Ring Quest."

"No comparison, my dear sir, no comparison." Bilbo said. "But I suppose you wouldn't mind answering a few questions of mine? Old songs never do tell all the details one wants do they?" and with that he took Tuor son of Huor familiarly by the arm and led him off. Frodo shot a half humorous, half apologetic look at Elrond and hurried after them.

Man and Half-Elf looked at each other. Boromir was certain Tuor's arrival was somehow Elrond and Gandalf's long awaited next move - though he couldn't imagine how - and Elrond's impenetrable gaze only confirmed him in that opinion.

"If only Faramir were here!" he said.

Elrond's lips quirked in a smile, he had met Boromir's brother in Minas Tirith before he left Middle Earth. "He would have even more questions than Bilbo."

Boromir chuckled. "Or at least as many!"

They both looked across Lord Elrond's spacious reception hall at the Hobbits and Man. Bilbo had led them to a cluster of chairs on the seaward side. The cool breeze coming through the open colonnade ruffled his hair as he sat forward in his oversized seat talking eagerly. Boromir wondered if Tuor had managed to get a word in yet. Even as he had the thought he saw Frodo touch his uncle's arm. The older Hobbit fell silent and leaned back, looking expectantly at Tuor as the man began to speak.

"Where is the Lady Idril?" Boromir asked, after glancing around and seeing no golden haired Elven woman among the many dark and silver fair.

"Visiting her kin in Tirion." Elrond answered. "But Grandfather grows restless if he is too long from the sea."

"I can understand that." the Man said with an emphasis that made his host smile. Boromir saw it and gave back a wry little grin. He had spoken true to Frodo, he was a warrior born and had rested long enough. The peace of Eldamar cloyed and seemed to wrap him round like chains. He wondered suddenly if the half-Man Elrond ever felt the same.

"Sometimes." the other said in answer to the thought. And smiled again, ruefully, as Boromir looked his surprise. "In Middle Earth I felt very much the Elf. But here in Westerness I realize I am far more Man than I ever dreamed." he sighed, folding his arms. "I chose to be numbered among the Elder Kindred, and I do not regret it. But I cannot change my nature or the blood in my veins - nor would I if I could."

"But you must live through all the ages of the world with a divided heart." Boromir answered. "Surely, you see why I do not wish to invite such a fate!"

Elrond looked at him steadily with luminous grey eyes. "But you cannot change your nature anymore than I, however much you may stifle your Elven half."

Boromir snorted. "Scarcely a half. A thin drop or two at the most."

"Certainly you have all the stubborness of a mortal Man." Elrond said dryly.

"That I do." Boromir agreed, with satisfaction.

Tuor was as tall and golden as any Noldorin prince but his beauty was of another kind. The lean, chiseled features and deep set eyes reminded Boromir irresistibly of Aragorn - Tuor's distant descendant. The sense of kinship was instantaneous; this was a Man like himself without the eerie otherworldliness of the Elves or the innocence of the Hobbits.

"How do you stand it?" Boromir blurted, then reddened in confusion.

But Tuor only smiled a little ruefully. "I spend a lot of time at sea." the farseeing grey eyes turned outward, towards the waves rolling ashore far below the terrace on which they stood. "The sea is change, uncontrolled and uncontrollable, like us Men." his smile took on a wry twist. "No doubt that is why we love it, and its Lord so. And why he understands us as neither Elves nor the other Valar do."

"Manwe at least understands us better than he did." Boromir said.

Tuor looked at him in surprise. "So I have heard." he nodded thoughtfully. "I believe our Lords and Elder Kin have underestimated you a trifle, kinsman."

"Just misestimated." said Boromir. "A habit of theirs when it comes to our kind, I think."

"True enough." They stood for a time in silence, leaning companionably side by side against a parapet carved in the shape of swans and branching trees. Finally Tuor spoke: " I have spent almost all my life among Elves. I was raised by the Sindar of Lake Mithrim, then dwelt in Gondolin and later the Haven of Sirion. I took an Elven wife and for her sake have chosen to be counted among the Elder Kindred - and yet in spite of all I remain a Mortal Man in thought and feeling and nature."

After a long moment Boromir replied: "I understand what you are saying, my Lord. But my case is a little different. Your grandson claims an Elven nature sleeps within me, inherited from a distant ancestress. But I do not wish to be other than what I am, let it sleep on!"

Tuor shook his head, smiling sympathetically. "You needn't fear turning into an Elf, my friend. As the saying goes, just as watered wine savors more of wine than of water; so the half-Elven are more Man than Elf." His face went grave. "Both Kindreds are Children of Eru but the Elves belong to this world while we Men come from His hand then return to Him beyond the bounds of Arda, and so are free of the bonds of fate.

"All who carry Mortal blood, in greater or lesser part, share that heritage and that power. It is for that freedom and power the to reshape destiny that you were chosen, Boromir. The teaching Elrond offers will do no more than give you the weapons you need for your task."

Boromir bit his lip. "I hear what you say, my Lord, and yet I fear myself, my own weakness. I have not fared well in matters of Power."

"So I have heard." Tuor answered. "But you are not the Man you were then, my friend. You are a thrice tempered blade, steeled by your trials. Now you know your peril and are on guard against it."

"I do not feel tempered," answered Boromir, "but weaker and more uncertain of myself than I have ever been."

Tuor laughed. "So you should! Knowledge of one's own weakness is the first step on the road of wisdom."

Boromir snorted. "Then I have become wise indeed!"

Tuor sobered. "I believe you have. Perhaps wiser than even the Wise deem for, as you say, they have never been good judges of Men."

"Then it may be I am wiser in refusing Elven teachings then they are in offering it." Boromir countered.

The other Man laughed aloud. "A touch, a veritable touch I do confess. Very well then, Boromir, consult your wisdom and see if it is that which holds you back or fears that no longer have meaning."

Boromir shifted uneasily. He didn't believe in this supposed 'wisdom' of his, but on the other hand he didn't like to think himself as bound by pointless fear. "I will think on it." he promised.