Chapter 2 – Hobbit Company

Morning light shone through the open balcony into my bedroom, but I was still abed, luxuriating in the feel of a soft mattress. I rolled over and closed my eyes, stretching and snuggling. This was surely the most comfortable bed I had ever slept in, and I should stay here all day . . . I caught my own thought and laughed at myself a little. I had been in the wild too long, was all. When I was led to this room yesterday and found a hot bath and a bed waiting, I had lost no time in thanking my Elf guide and showing him back out into the hall. After the bath, I had gone straight to the bed, not caring that I missed the feast and entertainment planned in the Council’s honor that night. I decided to sleep a little longer  . . .

But old habits die hard, and I was soon up and readying myself for the day, brushing the worst of the travel dirt from my surcoat and trying to decide about my sword. Should I gird it on today, or not? Some of the dwarves had worn ornamented long knives yesterday, and Aragorn had been armed, but his sword had proved to be more of an heirloom than an actual weapon. I could not recall seeing any Elf here girt with a sword. In the end, I belted on only my long knife, and hoped that I was not playing the fool to go so lightly armed.

I did not trust the Elves. They were fair of speech but cool to my advances of friendship, or even conversation. The three who had led me to Rivendell and escorted me about had been courteous but remote, and seemed just as likely to put an arrow through my throat, or throw me in prison, as to help me. Mithrandir, whom I knew from his visits to Minas Tirith, seemed almost an old friend now by comparison, and yet I did not trust him either. These Elves and half-Elves and wizards might see themselves as wise, but I judged them to be timid, hiding away and holding long councils in this secret valley while Men fought the enemy in the South.

Birdsong and Elvish voices drifted up from the gardens below my room’s balcony, and I felt a pang of guilt as I thought of Faramir. How he would have loved this! But perhaps he would have been too easily misled by the Elves, if he had been the one to seek the meaning of the dream. I slipped a razor-thin knife into a special fold inside my boot and went in search of breakfast.

I found the dining hall again with no trouble, and at this late hour it was almost deserted. Most of the tables were clean and empty, but at the far end, close to the kitchens, a noisy group was rising from a table laden with crockery and platters of food. I tentatively walked in their direction.

The group turned out to be made of Dwarves and Halflings. I recognized Glóin by his snow-white hair and beard.

“Good morrow, Lord Glóin,” I greeted him. Even at this time of day, he was glittering with diamonds and gold. All the Dwarves wore superb coats of mail, studded with gold and jewels. The mail looked quite serviceable despite the embellishment. They must be braggarts, or warlike, or both, I thought.

“And a most pleasant day to you also, ah . . .” Glóin hesitated, “ . . .  Boromir. How do you like Rivendell?”

“Very well, thank you,” I replied.

“Well, very good then!” Glóin was already walking away. “We are going to the stables to check on our ponies. Then we are off to see what kind of armory the Elves maintain. Good day to you now, and we will look for you again later. Enjoy your breakfast, sir!” All the Dwarves trooped off.

I looked back at the table, where two Halflings were busy loading up trays with plates of food.  The larger one was admonishing the smaller about the order of plates and cups, rearranging the trays for better balance. They suddenly became aware of my gaze and stopped what they were doing. The two little folk turned around and bowed politely.

“Good morning, sir,” the smaller one said to me as he rose from his bow. “I am Peregrin Took, and this is Samwise Gamgee.” They were both crowned with curly brown hair, and looked at me with bright curious eyes. I recognized the larger one as the Ringbearer’s companion from yesterday.

“We are visitors here from the Shire,” Peregrin Took continued by way of introduction. “Are you hungry, and have you eaten yet? There is plenty of food, and the cooks will make more for you, if you want. The bacon is absolutely first-rate. I hate to leave it here uneaten, but we are fetching breakfast to our friends upstairs, and we have already taken as much as we can carry! Will you sit down?”

I laughed, for the first time in months it seemed, and my heart warmed to his good humor. “Thank you very much, and I think I will. I am Boromir, son of Denethor of Gondor, and I am still finding my way about here. Has everyone else eaten already? I had hoped for some company, to tell you the truth.” I felt a little awkward, looming so high over them, and I sat down so we could see each other better.

The two exchanged glances. “We would be happy to stay and keep you company, sir, but we want to fetch breakfast upstairs, and if we don’t go now it won’t keep hot,” the larger one said very seriously to me.

“Of course. Please, do not wait on courtesy,” I said, smiling to show that I understood the importance of a hot breakfast. He was undoubtedly taking a meal to Frodo, and perhaps to the older Halfling too. Peregrin and Samwise hoisted up their well-laden trays. I looked at the amount of food they carried and curiosity got the better of me.  “How many are you feeding, then?” I asked.

“At last count, three hobbits, but you never know who is going to drop in and want a bite, so we always take as much as we can,” the younger one told me with a delightful grin. “Gandalf has quite an appetite if you catch him at the right moment! But, you know, we will be back here at noon. Won’t you join us for luncheon? The food is here absolutely wonderful. We are friends with the cooks, and they are making meat pies and berry tarts for the next meal. Do come for lunch, and then we will keep you company longer.”

I grinned back at him. It was impossible to refuse such an earnest invitation. “Thank you, Peregrin and Samwise. I shall certainly join you. Please, don’t wait any longer. I will see you again at noon.” They bowed again, not as deeply this time in order not to tilt their trays, and hurried away, leaving me to a fine supply of hearty breakfast. I was suddenly hungry, and made up my mind to follow the Dwarves to the stable and the armory, just as soon as I had my fill of fresh bread and Peregrin’s bacon.