See the first chapter for the complete Author's Note. Please read and review!
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Tolkien's world.
The air was cool, and a light breeze rustled the leafy tops of the great trees. In the forest clearing, eight sleepers were beginning to stir. A tall man, wrapped in a cloak against the early-morning chill, bent over a rough circle of stones in the centre of the clearing to feed twigs onto the smoky beginnings of a fire. He had kept watch over his companions for most of the night, and now moved away from the fire to wake them.
As he moved among the recumbent forms, rousing those who were not already stirring, his eye was drawn to a greyish shape at the edge of the clearing. It had been there when they made camp late last night, and he had assumed it was a rock. By the time Aragorn had roused him to stand watch in the small hours of the morning, he had forgotten about it. But now, as the sun climbed higher and more light filtered into the clearing, he could see that it more closely resembled a bundle of cloth. In fact, it looked almost like a curled-up, sleeping hobbit, except for the size. As he watched, Boromir seemed to see the object move slightly. Glancing back over his shoulder to check that the rest of the Fellowship was accounted for, he advanced towards the mysterious object with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
He knelt next to the form, which was indeed covered in grey-green woven cloth, and had a faint, somewhat fishy odour. Suddenly it stirred; a human-looking hand emerged and lifted one of the folds of cloth, and Boromir found himself facing a dark-haired maiden in a hooded cloak, who was staring at him with a look of shock in her eyes.
