Cuil vi pân belan ‘alas an i galad muded
Life in all her growing powers toward the light is striving

“Ho, there!  Halt … Halt! –”

“What? Did we do something wrong, Aragorn?”

The Fellowship was several weeks out from Rivendell and slowly picking their way through the cheerless hills of Hollin.  Boromir had begun to teach the halflings basic swordplay, but on this day had accompanied Gandalf and Legolas in scouting their trail to the south, leaving Pippin and Merry to practice under the Ranger’s watchful eye.  And this day that eye had caught something amiss.

Aragorn straightened from the tree against which he’d leaned himself to watch their contest.

“Here, Pippin.  What was that move you just did?  Can you show me that again?  Merry, give me your sword.”

The smaller hobbit grinned broadly and hefted his blade.  “It was something Boromir showed me.  Nice, isn’t it?”

“He didn’t show it to me.”  Chagrinned and frowning, Merry handed his small sword over to the Ranger and moved off a pace.

Pippin’s smile broadened.  “No! he didn’t.   Boromir said I needed a special advantage since I was smaller. He thought you, with those great big paddles you have for feet, wouldn’t manage it.”

“He did not!”

“No, of course he didn’t, Merry, he just likes me better.”

“Pippin!”

“Now, Master Peregrin …”  Aragorn took up a defensive stance.  “Tiro.”

For a few minutes they sparred, Aragorn letting Pippin approach and then deflecting him with moves he knew the hobbit could counter with little trouble.  Then steadily he began increasing the difficulty and complexity of his strokes until he deemed the time aright.  Aragorn pulled back Merry’s sword and prepared to deliver a blow had disarmed many a mightier foe when Pippin suddenly skipped under his defenses.  Aragorn halted and stilled his breath, a sword point neatly pressed against his belly.

Surprised and somewhat puzzled, the ranger raised his hands in surrender and straightened as Pippin withdrew.

The little hobbit couldn’t have been more proud of himself and grinned enormously.

“Well! it works much better against a big man!  I like that, I must say.  Shall we have another go, Aragorn?”

But the Ranger stepped back and returned the sword to Merry. 

“No, thank you, Pippin, I have seen enough.”

But he hadn’t seen anything at all, really, and it troubled him.