to love someone else

Chapter 6: Practise

The days dragged on. After one particularly tough training session, Merry commented to Aragorn, "Why do we never see you practice?"

"I do," Aragorn reassured him. "When?" Pippin piped up. Sam was sure that he'd never seen anyone look quite so cornered as he saw the Ranger look now. "Later," Aragorn said. "We never see you," Frodo said, a smile lurking on his face. Sam was relieved; Frodo hadn't smiled like that in days. "You're not spending your time on watch training when you're supposed to be watching, are you laddie?" Gimli called from the other side of the campfire.

Aragorn looked offended. "Of course not."

"So when?" Legolas asked innocently. Aragorn shot him an irritated look but the Elf smiled blandly. He threw a quick glance at Gandalf, seeming to hope that the wizard would offer some help, but was disappointed to see him chuckling merrily.

Turning back to Merry, Aragorn began to talk his way through an excuse. Quicker than anyone could see, Aerin lobbed a small stone at him. Caught off his guard, the stone waked him square on the head. Aragorn whirled around to face the Elleth.

"Tsk, tsk," Aerin admonished, shaking her head. "Getting slow in your old age."

"I'm not getting slow," Aragorn said through gritted teeth. "And here I thought I taught you better than that," Aerin continued loudly, speaking over him. Merry and Pippin giggled gleefully. "You didn't teach me anything," Aragorn pointed out. Aerin scoffed. "I am the only reason you can shoot a bow. If it weren't for me, my father would still be gathering up pieces of broken pottery." The snickers from the Hobbits turned into full-bellied laughs.

"Come on, old man," Legolas urged joining in. Aragorn slowly climbed to his feet, muttering Elven curses under his breath. He retrieved his sword from his bedroll and settled into a fighting stance. Aerin began to call out various stances and positions: "Taracu!" "Alasaila!" "Angbor!" Aragorn moved through the paces fluidly. Merry and Pippin stopped laughing, watching the master swordsman.

"That, Merry and Pippin, is what you should aspire to be," Boromir said gently. However, Legolas did not seem impressed. "Sloppy," he called, voice no longer teasing. "Mind your feet." He circled around Aragorn until he was behind him.

"Watch your back," he added. "A skilled warrior could do this-" He flicked his wrist and a throwing knife no one even knew he had flipped forward to land hilt-first against Aragorn's back. Aragorn stumbled, off balance. Legolas' short sword slithered out of its sheath and rested against the Ranger's neck. "Dead," he commented. Aragorn's mouth twisted, clearly disappointed in himself. "I thought Aragorn was really good," Sam said quietly. "He is," Gandalf assured him. "One of the best. There are few people who would know to exploit that weakness, all on our side."

"Again," Legolas commanded. "Better, this time." Aragorn's practice began anew.

.....

The days turned into weeks. Almost without realising it, the Fellowship was turning into a brotherhood. It was true that Legolas and Gimli still danced around each other. It was true that Frodo still withdrew from the others at times. It was true that both Aragorn, Aerin and Gandalf still watched Boromir for signs of corruption from the Ring. Aerin also became a mother like figure to the other Hobbits, especially Merry and Pippin. But they were forming bonds of friendship and love.

Merry and Pippin never failed to make Boromir laugh. Legolas spent many long hours telling the Hobbits about how he'd helped raise Aragorn and the mischief the young Man had gotten into. Gandalf occasionally set off a few of his smaller fireworks, mere sparkles really, as a surprise. Gimli regaled them with Dwarven fairytales, which everyone enjoyed even though they all seemed to have a moral attached to them. Aerin always tried to out do Gimli's stories about growing up in the Elvish Kingdom of Rivendell which made all the rest laugh at her competitiveness.

It wasn't long before the long marches were punctuated with conversation and laughter. Gandalf now led the way, knowing more about the way to Mordor than Frodo did. He seemed pleased to see that the Fellowship was getting along so splendidly.

Oftentimes, he would send Legolas or Aerin or both ahead to scout the way. They would both come back with good reports, stating that there was little ahead of them, although Legolas seemed more concerned than was warranted about a dark cloud amassing far to the South.

"Gandalf," Sam said during a lunch break one day. "How are we getting to Mordor?" He'd been wondering this for some time. Mordor lay to the east but their current course had them going straight south. "We must hold to this course west of the Misty Mountains for forty days," Gandalf replied. "If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us. There our road turns east to Mordor." Sam nodded, satisfied.

He finished cooking up the sausages he was preparing and brought them over to Frodo. Before them, Merry and Pippin were practicing once again with Boromir. He liked this routine, he thought to himself, the traveling and the practices and the camping. As he settled down next to Frodo, he hoped it would never change.