Chapter 3

You Have Some Explaining to Do

"Well, that was dignified," Faro commented. "What do you say to that, Theo?"

"Yes, Faro, I quite agree," said Theo.

The two hobbit lads looked at each other and laughed.

The so-called respectable hobbits known as Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck had launched themselves like small missiles at the big man in the yard; a mad scramble of hugs and shouts had ensued, ending with the big man being knocked on his back, pulling Merry and Pippin with him.

"Do you remember when they took us to Bree? Butterbur’s dogs?" Faro asked his cousin.

"Oh, yes! I remember…the big wolfhound and the little terriers," Theo answered.

"It’s just like that, isn’t it?" Faro asked.

"Exactly so, I’d say," replied Theo.

They watched the so-called adults roll about in the yard, making a mess of themselves in the process. The lads had never seen their fathers behave in such a manner before, and they were agog. Agog, aghast, and very amused. The, ahem, adults’ shouts of laughter had never been louder or more heartfelt, and it seemed the two lads saw years roll away from the faces and forms of their respective fathers.

"You know, Faro, if we did that, they would tell us to act our age,” Theo noted.

"Yes, I know! Amazing, is it not, Theo?" Faro replied.

It looked as though this display was about to subside, but just when it seemed to settle itself, the shouts and the hugs and the rolling about started all over again. The two lads shook their heads in wonder. The three, er, adults in question had finally begun to calm themselves and had sat up. They had exchanged looks with smiling faces, and then suddenly Pippin burst into tears. The big man looked distressed. Merry handed Pippin a handkerchief, commenting that Pippin never seemed to carry one. The big man hugged Pippin tightly and playfully planted a big, noisy kiss on top of Pippin’s head. After a bit, Pippin managed to contain himself, then stood, and, planting his hands on his hips, looked sternly at the big man.

"Oh, dear, I know that look,” commented Faro.

"Yes, and so do I. Here it comes, now! Ssh! Listen!" Theo said.

"You!" Pippin wagged a finger under the big man’s nose. "Where on earth have you been? What on earth have you been doing? All these years, and we thought you were dead! Dead! How did this come to be? You have a great heap of questions to answer, sir! You have some explaining to do!"

"Yes, Pippin, I do, and it will take a long while,” answered the big man. "And in the meantime, I propose to serve you two and your sons luncheon. I shall be most put out if you refuse."

"Well," said Merry dryly, "then we shall not refuse. I know what you are like when you are put out."

The two lads watched the big Man kneel and brush off the two fathers, who, in turn, were brushing off the big Man.

"They shall never finish the job like that,” commented the younger Took.

"Oh, I shouldn’t worry too much; that smell, whatever it is, is too tempting,” replied young Mr. Brandybuck, rubbing his hands together.

"Rabbit, Theo, it has to be rabbit! I’d know that smell anywhere,” answered Faro.

"Yes, I suppose you do... it’s your favorite,” Theo said.

"And everything is your favorite,” replied Faro.

The big Man had risen, gone into the cabin and brought out a good-sized pot, from which the savory smell of rabbit stew had been creeping out to tickle appetites of man and hobbit alike. He vanished back into the cabin, then returned with a small keg of ale and a loaf of bread. Again he vanished, returning this time with cheese, wine and mushrooms. Lots of mushrooms. Enough for an army, it seemed to the two lads. It was all the invitation the two growing lads needed, and they made a straight line for the humble table in the yard. It wasn’t fancy, but the two young ones had been taught not to be prigs. All was meticulously done and this was obviously a sincere gesture that came from the heart, plain for any Took or Brandybuck to see. Besides which, it would be rude to turn down such an offer.

With the hobbits now seated comfortably on the rough benches, Boromir served them himself, smiling gently as he did so. The two lads had a hundred questions to ask the big man, starting with "Are you really him?"

“Am I really he," Boromir gently corrected. “Indeed, I am." The man bowed low to the young hobbits. "Boromir, former soldier of Gondor, at your service, and your families’.”

"But how is it that you are not dead, and why has no one heard from you?" asked Faro.

"That’s a long story, and a complicated one, and one I would tell your fathers first,” Boromir answered gently, patting the young Took’s shoulder. "So like your father. I knew who you were the moment I saw you."

Pippin smiled to himself, remembering how Boromir had been with a fool of a Took, himself, those many years ago. Almost as if he were an older brother had Boromir been to both him and to Merry. Pippin had often thought that Boromir would have made a wonderful father, and one of the saddest things of all, when he thought of Boromir as dead, was that Pippin would never get to see any little soldiers being dandled on the big Man’s knee.

Little is dearer to a hobbit than family and friends, for they are the very stuff of life, given to wealthy and poor alike, and they are riches that cannot be measured. When he had thought of Boromir dead, it had been as though a thing of immeasurable price had been taken. It was that which, as long as one has it, one is never truly bereft: brotherhood. Had it not been for Merry, his dearest friend, cousin and brother of the heart, Pippin might have despaired far more. Good old Merry. There was never anyone like him: for Pippin there never would be anyone like Merry. More rare and precious than mithril is the friendship that lasts through every stage of life, and Pippin had always known somehow that the bond between himself and Merry was just that.

But for the time being, Pippin was consumed with curiosity as to what had happened to Boromir. Merry could see it written all over his cousin, could tell that an empty spot in the conversation would drive Pippin to distraction with curiosity.

And so Merry steered the conversation in the direction of himself and Pippin, filling the time with stories about the days of reconstruction in the Shire. Stories were told of engagements, weddings, first children and new responsibilities. Faro and Theo had been crestfallen at the prospect of not hearing this Man regale them with tales of his adventures, which surely must have been many, varied and wondrous. Sitting and listening to their fathers talk small hobbity small-talk had a most soporific effect on the hobbit lads and they were soon nodding at the table. At last the two boys laid their young heads on the table and soon were sleeping. Boromir carried each lad into his little cabin, and tucked them into his bed. While for a Man it was narrow, it was plenty roomy enough for two hobbit lads.

The afternoon was golden, the air fine and clean and filled with the fragrance of wildflowers. With stomachs full and pipes now filled, the three old friends sat in silence for a bit, simply enjoying the time and the quiet together. It was the comfortable silence of old and dear friends, and there is no thing anywhere like it, for in saying nothing at all, everything was said.

At last, the time had come, though, and Boromir knew he had to make a start, sooner or later. He might as well get it over with.

"As you said," Boromir began, "I have some explaining to do."