Author's Note: I am so sorry for keeping you all waiting so long, but I do have some good news! For the foreseeable future, this story will be my sole focus. I need to get out of a rut, and this is currently the only story I'm having any ideas for. If you follow any of my other stories, I ask you to be patient. If you follow any of Marie's stories, don't worry; she'll have something up soon, I'm sure. Now, onward!

Chapter 2

A cool breeze, gentle sunlight, faint birdsong, and soft grass. Boromir sighed in contentment; it was so peaceful. He tried to relax, but he couldn't. Something was wrong. But what could possibly be wrong in such a happy place? Suddenly, as though someone had opened up the floodgates to a dam, it all came rushing back to him.

Boromir's eyes snapped open and he sat up, crying out. He looked around, confused. He did not recognize this forest; it was like nowhere he'd ever been before. Of course, if the Voice had done as it said, he was most likely somewhere in the Shire. For a moment, he smiled at the prospect of seeing his old friends again, but then he remembered. Thorin and his Company had embarked on their quest at nearly 80 years prior to the time he had just left.

He looked around, pleased to see that not only did he have his sword, but he also was in possession of his shield and the newly-repaired Horn of Gondor. Incredulously, Boromir placed a hand on his chest, feeling the spot where the arrow had been. It didn't even ache.

"Are you well, my son?" The Voice was back, but it had changed. It still radiated the same power and awe, but before, Boromir had not been able to discern a gender. Now, it was female, and more importantly, it was a voice he recognized.

He turned his head to the side and gasped. "Mother?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

She gave a gentle smile exactly like Finduilas would have, but her eyes were different. "I am afraid not. My true form is…difficult to comprehend, shall we say. I chose a shape that I thought would comfort you. Do you wish me to change it?"

Boromir let out a disappointed sigh. Of course; his mother was dead, had been for a long time. But still, it pleased him to at least be able to see her again, to hear her voice. "No, it is fine." He hesitated, worried that he would seem impertinent. "Forgive me, but…who exactly are you?"

The woman smiled at him with his mother's smile again. "I have many names. Eru, The One, Ilûvatar… You may even call me 'Mother' if you desire, but that name belongs to someone else."

Boromir looked around. "I gather we are somewhere in the Shire, then?"

Eru nodded. "Yes, at the edge of a forest called the Bindbale Wood. Bilbo Baggins lives a short way from here, around a half a day's walk. Once there, you must befriend our Hobbit and convince Thorin Oakenshield to let you join him in his quest. From there, it is up to you."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "And you can't help me at all?"

A musical laugh issued from her lips. "If I helped you, it wouldn't be much of a test, now would it?" She sobered and fixed him with a commanding stare. "I can occasionally offer advice, but your choices must be your own. I can neither influence your mind nor fight your battles." Eru gave him a sympathetic smile. "However, I would not send you into this without at least one gift to aid you."

Eru walked forward and placed two fingers on his forehead. There was a golden flash, and then her hand dropped back down by her side. "I cannot keep you from hearing the call of the Ring; however, you will now find it is much easier to ignore."

Boromir dropped his head. "I…words cannot describe the depth of my gratitude."

She smiled at him. "Now, you had best get moving if you want to reach Bilbo's home by tea time! And don't worry about dropping in unannounced; he'll be getting quite a few uninvited guests today." With that, she disappeared, with no trace of her having been there in the first place.

Boromir sheathed his sword, strapped his shield to his back, and made his way to the path. Luckily, it was easy to follow, and soon, he was on his way to Bag End.

As he journeyed further and further south, he began to meet more Hobbits on the road. Many of them gave him odd looks, but none stopped him to ask who he was or where he was from. This he had expected; from what Merry and Pippin had told him, Hobbits, though hospitable, were notoriously suspicious of outsiders.

He was forced to continue his walk through lunchtime because he had no provisions or any money to stop and buy something to eat. Boromir didn't really mind. He wasn't all that hungry, and he had missed a meal before. Besides, hopefully he would get something to eat at Bilbo's house.

He almost laughed to think of the eccentric old Hobbit he had met in Rivendell. To think he'd be meeting him again, and under such strange circumstances!

The sun was just starting to set when he arrived at the door of Bag End, which he had found after asking directions from a passing Hobbit. Boromir had been thinking of what to say to Bilbo the whole time, and he'd finally come up with a plausible, somewhat true story. So, taking a deep breath, Boromir rang the doorbell.

After a few moments, the green door opened to reveal a fairly young Hobbit with rich brown curly hair. He was obviously fully-grown and of age, but he was certainly a far cry from the Bilbo he'd met in Rivendell. Bilbo looked up at Boromir, confused.

Boromir gave Bilbo a respectful bow. "Good evening, sir. Boromir of Gondor, at your service. I am sorry to disturb you, but I am in need of assistance. I have lost my way traveling in the north. I have unfortunately used up all my provisions and have no money to get a room at an inn. Might I beg dinner and perhaps a bed for the night?"

Bilbo returned the bow. "Bilbo Baggins, at yours and your family's," he replied, then looked up at the Man with a smile. "Of course you may have dinner; I was just about to take tea myself. Pray come and have some with me."

He had to stoop to enter the hole, but once he did, Boromir had to smile. It was such a homey place. "You have a very comfortable home, Master Baggins," he complimented. He removed his sword and shield, leaning them against the wall by the door, and hung up his cloak on one of the pegs. His horn he kept on his belt.

Bilbo smiled at him again. "Why thank you, though I imagine it's a bit less comfortable for someone like you." Boromir let out a deep, rumbling laugh. "And of course, you are welcome to stay the night. I'm afraid I don't have any furniture fit for someone your size, though. Would you be amenable to a pallet in my sitting room?"

Boromir nodded once. "Of course. I have slept in far worse conditions, believe me." He followed Bilbo into the kitchen and sat on one of the sturdiest-looking chairs. Bilbo had just poured him a cup of tea and set a small seed cake in front of him when the bell rang at the door.

Immediately, Bilbo excused himself and scuttled off to answer it. "Must be Gandalf," he explained. A moment later, a voice issued down the hall. "Dwalin, at your service."

Boromir sipped his tea, smiling. And so it begins.