Author's Notes: Here we have it, the prologue of the second story in the Champions series. I believed that Boromir's arrival in his new home deserved a story of its own, especially since he would be celebrating his first Christmas in this story. You'll be meeting far more residents of Campbell, and 'seeing' more of the town itself.

On a personal note, I learned this afternoon that my nineteen month old niece Sabrina is now talking! It's just a few words, mainly 'mommy' and 'da,' but she knows Daddy's voice when she talks to him on the phone.

Disclaimer: Boromir of Gondor, Legolas, Haldir, and other such denizens of Middle-earth and/or Valinor do not belong to me. They belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien, and to a degree, New Line Cinemas. On the other hand, the denizens of Campbell, North Carolina, especially the Rafferty and Gutierrez families, do belong to me. I have no objection to you borrowing them. . .just ask first and return them to me intact.

Champions: A Whole New World

Prologue: Welcome Home

It was a strange, strange world. Many days previous, he awoke in a strange place of healing, with no memories at all. Since his awakening, he began to learn the languages of this new place. . .very slowly. His understanding was still limited, as he learned only a small number of words. But it kept him occupied while he was awake, and he was at least learning something. At the same time, he was learning about his new companions. There was Kristin, who had been here from the beginning; Kristin's sister Maygun and her boon companion, Aylayna, was at the place of healing nearly every day, almost always accompanied by their hound, whom they called Neeco. While he could understand none of what was actually said, the man currently called 'Mikal' could read facial expressions and body languages. And what he learned was that Maygun was grieving for someone or something. Many times, Mikal saw her with Ronan, her eyes red-rimmed from weeping. Aylayna was also grieving, but not as sharply. She was, however, worried about Maygun (also called Meg), but did not hover. It was becoming evident to Mikal that the two older women were warriors. He did not believe he ever encountered female warriors, but this world was just strange enough for such a thing to be possible. At the very least, they were guardians. . .protectors.

And now, he was leaving with them. While he was not fully recovered, he was strong enough to leave. He was settled in a wheeled chair, attired in loose fitting trousers and a warm top. Neeco was parked at his side, his head resting in Mikal's lap. The man absently stroked the hound, scratching behind his ears ever so often. Much to his surprise, Mikal heard the hound growl. He looked up, nearly groaning as he beheld the reason for Neeco's anger. While Mikal had no issue with the man now approaching. . .after all, he provided Mikal's new clothing. . .the woman was another story entirely. She had a pretty face and intelligent eyes, but she wore a sneer that seemed permanent, rendering her singularly unattractive. In addition, he did not like the way she treated Kristin, Meg and Aylayna. . .as if they were less than she. As ever, her lower lip was curled disdainfully when she looked at Meg and Aylayna, who were now studying papers, as if she smelled something especially foul. Mikal could not imagine what that something would be.

Meg said something and turned to face the newcomers more fully, resting a protective hand on Mikal's shoulder. She was, he quickly came to realize, a very affectionate, demonstrative person. When she came to his chambers over the last several days, she would rest a hand on his forearm or his brow when she first entered, before sitting down beside him. The morning after he first met them, Mikal became aware that something was different about both Meg and Aylayna. . .something was different about Kristin as well. The two guardians seemed calm and determined. Kristin, on the other hand, just seemed. . .she seemed happier. His command of the new language was pitiful, but based on Ronan's motions, Mikal concluded that he would be leaving with the guardians. That was, in all likelihood, also the reason why they spent so much time with him since. Not that he was complaining. Aylayna brought pictures with her, pictures of the children in her family. From what he could gather, they were the children of her brothers and sisters, given that she would gesture to Meg and Kristin, before indicating a small child. Either way, though he knew very little of children, the little ones were beautiful indeed.

Meg said very little when she sat with him. Sometimes, she would bring a book or a pamphlet, which Ronan called a 'mag-a-zeen,' and read to him from them. He understood none of the words, but that mattered not. Even when she was reading, it gave him a focus, other than his injuries, his weakness, and his frustration with his inability to communicate with them. Further, it gave him an opportunity to study her. Usually allowing her younger sister or Aylayna to do the talking, Meg observed others. That made them the same. She behaved in such a manner for her own reasons. . .while he had no other choice. He used hand motions, body language, facial expressions, and tone to figure out what was going on around him. Still, it was common ground for him, and right now, Mikal accepted anything in common, and accepted it gratefully. While she was shorter than Aylayna, she was no less protective of her, and of Kristin. It was not as blatant. . .but for anyone paying attention, it was there.

As for Kristin, she continued her daily visits. Mikal rarely understood anything she said, picking out a word here and there, but she brightened his day with her arrival, sometimes literally. By now, he learned that the object she sometimes held while talking to him contained information about his recovery. Once again, he wished he could learn to read this new language, but he had other things to concern him. Such as the jolt of pain which shot through him now, interrupting his thoughts. A quick glance told him that he was moving, thanks to Meg pushing his chair. The older guardian pulled the blonde woman out of the way, saying something to her rather sharply. She moved, reluctantly, and Mikal looked over his shoulder as Meg smiled sweetly. Kristin and Aylayna followed, Aylayna putting her arm around the young healer's shoulders. A half second after that, Ronan followed as well. So began his new life. . .so began the end of his time in this specific place.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Dr. Ronan Daly followed the small group as the Rafferty sisters and Detective Elena Gutierrez wheeled Boromir (currently called Michael) to the elevator which would take them to the lobby of the hospital. Kristin just finished her finals, and would be returning with the others for her winter break. She would be back in a month, for the beginning of the new term (with the mini-van he was loaning to them for this trip). He would look forward to that, and in the meantime, he would think seriously about making trips of his own to Campbell when he had a few days off.

It wasn't that Gimli's reincarnation distrusted the three young women who would be looking after Boromir. If that was the case, he would have found a way to keep Boromir here in Raleigh, regardless of what the demi-goddess Pelagia wanted. But after all these eons, all these lives, of searching for Boromir and never finding him. . .Ronan was not about to let him simply walk out of his life. Not that he was walking anywhere right now. Ronan suppressed a smile, remembering the look on his friend's face when Megan Rafferty began wheeling him out of his room. Boromir gripped the sides of the wheelchair, his face tightening with surprise and with pain, but relaxed after a moment.

Now, as they began the descent to the lobby, he actually seemed to be enjoying himself. However, Ronan noticed, his head was twisting this way and that, trying to take in his new surroundings. This was the furthest he had been from his room since he awakened, nearly two weeks earlier. He was taking short walks, around his room first, then up and down the corridor, slowly regaining his strength. Everything was so new to him, and sometimes, Ronan found himself looking at his world through Boromir's eyes. He noticed nearly everything, it seemed. He noticed when Megan's small hands tightened around the handles of his wheelchair, and the tension around her mouth. In all likelihood, Boromir didn't understand the reason for it, but he did know she was afraid of something. Ronan had no way of explaining to his friend that Megan hated being in enclosed spaces. Ronan put his hand on her shoulder, and Boromir smiled at him gratefully. While he was healing quickly, Boromir still could not turn easily without aggravating the wound to his abdomen. . .or his chest.

And even without his memories of Gondor, and his father the Steward, Boromir was still very proud, particularly when it came to dealing with private body functions. He hated people seeing him like that, even those few whom he trusted. Ronan helped, when those times came. He raised a few eyebrows, when people noticed, but Ronan simply explained that 'Michael' reminded him of an old friend, who died many years earlier. He was known for being a bit. . . unusual anyhow, so the explanation was accepted. Besides, the look of absolute gratitude in Boromir's eyes was worth it. Once he was strong enough to walk to the adjoining bathroom, Ronan taught him what he needed to know. . .then stepped back. However, he never went so far that he couldn't catch Boromir when his legs gave out.

Ronan couldn't do anything about his pride. . .he just made things as easy as possible on the poor lad. It seemed that was the most he could do, anyhow. Ever since Boromir's arrival, it seemed like he was doing a lot of things he didn't normally do. Not that Ronan held it against the lad. . .by the Valar, not at all! He was entirely too happy to have Boromir back in his life, after all these ages. But Ronan was brutally honest, with himself, if nothing else. Things were definitely far more complicated now, and it was unlike that would change. Shortly after Boromir was found (and the Campbell girls arrived), the other doctors realized they could do very little for the police. For one thing, Boromir should have died, given the amount of blood he lost. In addition, the report came back on the splinters they dug out of Boromir's body. . .while the information was kicked upstairs, the splinters came from trees not known to the scientific community. His colleagues weren't stupid. They realized that there was something very strange about this patient. . .they also knew what would happen if word got out. The hospital, and Raleigh itself, would turn into a media circus. Their job was to take care of the sick and the injured. To say that they covered things up was an unpleasant way of putting it. They simply. . .didn't share everything they knew. There was a slight difference.

"We'll take care of him. . .I promise," Megan said softly, drawing his attention. Ronan smiled. He knew that. . .more than that, he had absolute faith in all three, after getting to know them. Megan added with a hint of a smile, "And I promise, I'll take very good care of your van as well." Ronan nearly laughed aloud, but controlled his mirth. After they left the hospital, their next stop would be the airport, where they were picking up Megan and Kristin's parents and their cousin Gavin. Their parents, Francis and Ailsa, were returning from a cruise. Gavin flew down to Miami to meet them. It was for that reason that Ronan was loaning his mini-van to them. He generally only used it on his days off, after all. Megan would drive it home, while Elena would follow in her Saturn with Nico. The German Shepherd wouldn't be happy about being separated from his new friend, but Elena needed the company. He wondered if he should suggest to Kristin that she ride with Elena. . .thanks to the interference of their cousin, Megan had things she needed to discuss with their parents. After a moment, however, he decided against it. They would work this out for themselves.

They reached the lobby, much to Boromir's relief, it seemed. Ronan noted with amusement that he was starting to fidget in the wheelchair. The elevator dinged as it opened, and Megan wheeled Boromir out. Ronan would accompany them to the mini-van, now waiting in the front of the building, and help get Boromir inside. . .it was something with which he had a great deal of experience. He informed security that it was there, and one of the guards was in the mini-van, keeping it running and preventing it from being towed. That was Elena's suggestion, and he kicked himself for not thinking of it himself. As she steered Boromir toward the sliding doors, Megan said softly, "I can't begin to thank you for everything you've done over the last few weeks. I know that you're a doctor, and it's your job, but. . .thank you." Ronan merely smiled again and patted her shoulder. He couldn't tell her the real reason why he was doing this for them, for Boromir. She wasn't ready to know the whole truth, and even if she was, she wasn't ready for the fallout. He wished he could tell her that her life was about to get far more complicated. . .but that would lead to more questions that he couldn't answer.

"You can thank me best by takin' good care of this young man," he answered as they reached the van. He knew from Pelagia that the Elf was on his way. . . but it would take Legolas time to figure where Boromir was, and then to reach North Carolina. The night before, he dreamed of his last days of Gimli, those days he spent in Valinor as the constant companion of the prince of Mirkwood. Thanks to those dreams, he remembered Sindarin. It wasn't enough to carry on a conversation. . .but it was enough to get across what he wanted said. Elena slid open the rear passenger door, and Ronan asked Megan, "Might I have a few moments alone wi' him, while you're gettin' his seat ready?" Megan, to her credit, hesitated. . .but after a moment, she smiled and nodded, moving to assist Elena. Kristin, in the meantime, was transferring Megan's bags to the back of the mini-van, and Nico parked himself beside Boromir's wheelchair. Ronan circled around and knelt in front of Boromir, smiling a little at the clothes he was wearing. A far cry from the clothes in which he was found. . .a far cry from his attire during the quest. . .but the sweats he wore would keep him warm and were loose enough not to aggravate his wounds further.

"You understand very little right now, my friend," he murmured in Sindarin, "but the next time we meet, you'll be speaking English beautifully. I have absolute faith in you. So, until we meet again. . .welcome home." Boromir's green eyes lit up, affirming what Ronan believed. Boromir might not remember his name or his past, but he did remember the Sindarin he learned as the eldest son of the Steward. Ronan smiled at him and pressed a tender, platonic kiss to his forehead. Aragorn, he thought, I don't know where you are. . .but I don't think you'd mind me taking your place.

Welcome home, son of Gondor. Welcome home.