Source: FotR – ish!
Disclaimer: Those works are Tokien’s... this work is Kortirion’s
Pippin had a perfectly open-faced charm, which Boromir was learning to suspect often covered some devious plan ‘...they were hatching something...’
At supper the newly-formed Fellowship shared a table in Rivendell’s dining-hall. Courteously, the younger hobbits served them dishes of braised meat.
“Try this – it’s very good.”
Pippin had that ‘look’... Boromir made a performance of breaking and buttering some bread... Gimli took a mouthful... he sucked in air... and turned purple.
“OooOooo... you whippersnappers have laced it with my dragon’s pepper!” He roared between gulps of ale.
Boromir smiled ‘...they weren’t going to pull the wool over his eyes!’
After the trials of Moria, the dreaming woods of Lothlórien let them reflect and gather their strength. Time moved to a different rhythm here; Boromir found himself calmed, relaxed... watching the wind twist the leaves on the boughs, and gazing at the myriad shades of lush greenness.
The elves had murmured that perhaps the travellers would care to borrow some light, woollen tunics... while their own travel-stained garments were cleaned. A hint they were not as fragrant as they might be!
This time... strong hands pulling the wool over his eyes... as they removed his borrowed tunic... made Boromir smile...
Time slowed to a stumbling shambles, each of the Fellowship fought his own demons, those of the heart, of the spirit... those marked with Saruman’s white hand. They crashed through the undergrowth, crushing the greensward beneath iron-shod feet.
Boromir tried to defend the little ones – it was the least he could do after his terrible lapse of judgement... he was so sure he’d been right... Then ghastly reality forced the glorious vision of Gondor rampant from him.
Afterwards, they set him adrift, his face open to the sky; Aragorn would not let them pull Lórien’s grey wool over his eyes...