Summary: Boromir observes his strange companions as they set out on their journey.
Rating: PG
In Good Company
By Nieriel Raina
During the first days of their journey, Boromir kept his distance from his companions. Agreeing to this quest had been one thing, but it was not until they had begun their journey that he truly began to realize just what sort of company it was with whom he traveled. All of them were very different from the Men of Gondor.
The hobbits were lighthearted creatures, though he noticed Frodo was more serious than the others. Whether this was due to what he carried or simply his personality, Boromir was uncertain. Sam scrambled to care for anything he felt Frodo needed, but it was Merry and Pippin that held Boromir’s interest the most. Those two could talk the hind end off a donkey!
Mithrandir had been a familiar enough face in Gondor, but seeing him interacting with the hobbits could be entertaining at times. He had never seen the wizard get so perplexed, not even with some of Faramir’s questions; but then Merry and Pippin could outdo even Faramir when it came to inquisitiveness!
Aragorn was a Man like he, only not so, for he had an almost elven perspective at times. Boromir still watched him with uncertainty, unsure just what to make of this Ranger. His eyes trailed to Anduril and his brow furrowed. The lost king he might be, but the Heir of Isildur would have much to prove before he would ever assume the throne of Gondor!
The sound of bickering brought his attention to the two most baffling of his companions: the elf and the dwarf. When he had set out on his journey from Minas Tirith, he had been uncertain what he would find at the road’s end. His discovering Rivendell had been by sheer accident, and the elves he had discovered there were nothing as he had imagined from the old tales. Some were, perhaps, as he had expected. Lord Elrond was serene and wise, and many others held a certain dignified and sad countenance; but there were others who were light hearted and, as he had heard Samwise say on a few occasions, 'merry as children'. Boromir found the race of elves confusing in their contradictions. It seemed elves were more varied than Men in temperament, based upon what he had seen in his two month stay in the elven stronghold.
He glanced at Legolas. The elf shook his mane of golden hair back as he made some haughty comment about the superiority of the elves. Boromir bristled at the comment, but the sharp retort of the dwarf reminded him that Men were not the target of the elf’s taunts. Boromir watched uneasily as Gimli’s fingers twitched towards his axe.
A stern look from the wizard leading the company brought silence back over the group as they walked. The elf appeared to sulk. The dwarf frowned. The hobbits looked disappointed that their entertainment had been cut short. And catching a glimpse of Aragorn as he turned away, Boromir thought he saw the Ranger hide a smile.
What an odd company they were! Nothing like the Men of Gondor and certainly nothing he had anticipated when he rode from Minas Tirith; yet he could not help but wonder if perhaps such a strange group might just slip past the eyes of the enemy.
“That’s a nice sword you got there,” Pippin commented, coming to walk beside him. “Are you any good with it?”
Boromir felt surprise at the question. Any good at it? Why, he was the best swordsman in Gondor! He launched into an explanation of sword fighting techniques, feeling his uncertainty fade into a strange reassurance. For all their differences, there was a strong sense of purpose, which became even clearer to him as he spoke.
“Might you teach me some when we stop next?” Pippin asked.
Boromir smiled and inclined his head. “Of course,” he agreed.
“You have to teach me, too!” came Merry’s piping voice behind them.
Boromir’s smile grew. Finally, he felt a part of the company and not just an observer.
