Matchless

For Stewart…my favorite grumpy ol' bear…never let me babysit. Why? Because I'd do this.

Surely it could not have been as bad as he's making it out to be, thought Peregrin Took. Pippin observed his large friend's countenance and decided that maybe, just maybe, it was as bad as he was making it out to be, after all.

Diamond and Estella had set out to find a mate for Boromir, and since then his life had become a series of nightmarish evenings spent with girls he either had nothing in common with, or that could scare the paint right off the wall. This last one, though, was the last straw. He couldn't take it any more.

"You've got to make them stop!" Boromir said grimly. Merry and Pippin looked at each other and sighed.

"Boromir, I've tried to talk to them, we both have. It's done no good at all," said Pippin. "In fact, I think it's only made them more determined than ever!"

"Pippin, I swear, this last one, the poulterer's daughter, you'll recall…well, it's just too much. I can hardly be expected to be charmed by a girl with a better mustache than my own!"

"We'll speak to them," Merry said, "but don't expect them to listen. I can tell you right now they won't."

"Well, at least I'll have a little respite while you four are off in Longcleeve. Faro and Borry will be fine here with me. In fact, I'm looking forward to spending time with them."

Boromir loved his new home, loved being back with his two best hobbit friends anywhere, loved their wives and children, but he was a Man at the end of his rope. Time and experience had cooled his temper and made him a more thoughtful Man, but as we shall see, this can have some unexpected results, Boromir, after all, being Boromir, a Man who hated to be out-done, even by two lovely hobbit ladies. Merry and Pippin did their best to placate him, and he knew in his heart they were helpless and blameless in the matter. He was also quite sure they secretly found a great deal of humor in the matter, and he was right. He could tell now by the way that the two looked at each other when they thought he wasn't looking. Very well, then, he'd just take matters into his own, very capable hands. Always had done, always would.

The two hobbit lads arrived a few days later on their ponies, bags stuffed with clothing and fishing gear. They loved to go fishing with Uncle Bom. He took the two Little Ones to his very favorite creek, where they camped for the evening. As they sat around the fire, Boromir waited patiently. He knew it was but a matter of time. Soon, he got what he was been waiting for.

"Tell us a story, Uncle Bom?" Faro asked. The expectant look on his face reminded Boromir so much of Pippin in his days of the Fellowship. He couldn't help reaching out and ruffling Faro's golden-brown curls… so like his father's.

"Yes, do!" added Borry, his namesake. "Tell us, how did you get to be so strong?"

It was then the idea hatched in Boromir's mind. How splendid! He could not have asked for a better way to get his revenge.

"Well, it's a secret." He said. He waited patiently.

After about two or three minutes, the Little Ones said as one, "Tell us! Please? Please?"

"Well, you mustn't tell, you know. It's an old soldier's secret."

"We won't tell, will we, Faro?" Borry said, leaning closer in that way that made him look so much like his father.

"Very well, if you promise." Boromir said, knowing hobbits take promises very seriously. He regarded the two, wondering if what he was doing was right, then he shrugged internally, thinking, this is, after all, war…

"We promise!" Faro said, his green eyes sparkling.

"Yes, yes! Now tell us!" added Borry.

"All right," Boromir agreed solemnly. "Don't bathe."

"Don't bathe?" Borry looked puzzled.

"Don't bathe," Boromir said again. "It makes you weak."

It was two weeks later when Pippin and Merry showed up, only a day after Boromir had sent their sons home. Boromir could read their faces as they approached. They knew his schedule by now and intended to catch him just as he finished his market day work. They knew. Oh, yes, they knew. He began to laugh out loud. Pippin and Merry approached him, scowling.

"Boromir," Pippin said crossly, "You have to straighten this out! They smell like wet rats!"

"Not 'til you call your wives off." Boromir said firmly.

Pippin looked furious. He crossed his arms. Boromir looked right back at him. He very consciously crossed his own considerable arms. Green eyes locked with green eyes. Boromir meant to win this contest of wills, and waited until he saw Pippin first begin to flag, then altogether wilt.

"I knew it!" Merry crowed. "I win! You owe me a beer!"

"Oh, be quiet, Merry! This isn't funny."

"Well, actually it is, you're just not ready to laugh yet."

"Oh, Merry! Hush! You aren't helping."

"Well, I don't blame him. Have you seen the poulterer's daughter?"

Pippin sagged. "Yes," he muttered, shuddering.

A month later, the boys came to see him yet again. They wanted to help him on market day, as he was going to Bree. They had been angry with Uncle Bom at first for telling them such a big windy, but couldn't stay angry if they tried.

Life was now very good for Boromir. There had been no more matches. He now had everything he needed: a home, good friends, plenty of money and the companionship of these two young ones. Yes, life was…matchless.