Niklas, a young hobbit of fifteen dragged his feet along the river Lune's banks for what seemed like the thousandth time. He was carrying an empty bucket and a long, sharp pole. For the first time in what was said to be since the last Middle Earth war, or the War of Evil Unmatched, the hobbits called it, a famine had come over Hobbiton. Of course they knew incredibly little about this war other than what the Four Heroes had taught them and that the "Beasts" that had enslaved them were Saurons minions. But this was enough to tell them that famine was not the worst thing that could have happened. It was also enough to make a very disturbing superstition that a famine signals the rebirth of a dark force as powerful as Sauron. Niklas shook his head, a smirk on his face, as if he believed in such things!
He bent down and waited, staring into the rivers rushing water, watching for an un-knowing fish to swim by so that he could catch it on his make-shift spear. Suddenly there it was, a small, round, and plump fish. Niklas licked his lips, this would do nicely, he could already hear the sizzling and smell the aroma of that fish on the stove as he thrust his spear a little too hard, a little too late.
Before he knew it Niklas was in the river, its cold, strong current pulling him away from the bank at an alarmingly fast rate. He strained his arms past their limit, struggling to get out of the immense rivers center, but it was no use, the bank was more than five yards away and he was struggling too hard to stay above water as it was. Just then something hit his head, hard, and he swirled away into the dark abyss that lay before him.
The next thing Niklas knew was the color gray, and a damp scent. Fog, he thought vaguely, I'm in a cloud. Niklas next realized that he was not in water anymore, he was on something hard. He squinted through the mist and saw what looked like the ruins of a boat floating around him. It seemed that he was on a piece of the hull. Niklas sighed in relief; he wasn't dead! But where was he?
Off in the distance he heard a sound, it had been a scream. Niklas spun around, or at least as around as he could get on a piece of floating wood, but it was impossible to tell where it had come from, here in the middle of nothingness. There was nothing to do but wait as the raft drifted aimlessly in the foggy waters. Then, finally, he saw something, a green-grassed island. He squinted hard to make out the details; it seemed to be a lush green valley with beautiful trees and animals unlike anything Niklas had ever seen before. But there was something strange about the image. It was almost like a flickering. As though it were a slide being played on one of those wizards' moving pictures they called movies. It must be the fog, Niklas thought, a trick of the fog.
But as the raft drew nearer the island became more and more blurry, until it started shaking, the image dancing around. And behind it, Niklas saw something he would never forget. The island was there, yes, just not the same. There was no lush green grass, no beautiful trees, no exotic animals, just barren wasteland with ogres and demon-creatures patrolling the shores. Niklas had seen enough; he closed his eyes and prayed for it to be over. It's just a nightmare, he thought, just a nightmare…but when he re-opened his eyes, the scene was still there, only closer. Frantically, Niklas jumped off the raft and began to swim the opposite way, pushing his piece of boat along with him. Time seemed to pass as it never had before; it seemed his whole life Niklas had been swimming in this dark, gray world until, finally, he caught a current. Niklas climbed back onto his raft and collapsed, exhausted.
Next thing he knew, he was back in daylight, near Mithlond, the grey haven. His limbs ached from the swimming last night, or this morning, or whenever that had been, and all he wanted was to get back on land. Slowly, the raft floated to shore and Niklas stumbled off, exhausted. Just then Niklas remembered the nightmarish scene he had witnessed earlier. Where had I been? He thought, it couldn't have been far, only a couple miles, at the most. Niklas decided he'd look it up when he got home.
Home, luckily for him, was only a few blocks away and he was there in only a couple minutes. When he opened the door he was welcomed by a loud squeal of delight and a shout. "Niklas is home mommy!, He's home!!" it was his little sister, Narii. His mom then came rushing into the hallway, "Niklas!" she exclaimed, "We thought you had drowned!"
"I nearly did." Niklas said. "I fell into the river while trying to catch a fish and was swept along the river for what seemed like forever until…." Niklas trailed off. He didn't want to tell his family about the island until he was sure it wasn't a dream. "Until I floated back to the riverbank." I ended.
After quite a few more questions and answers he went to the living room to warm up by the fire and to look up the Lune river. He opened up the encyclopedia to page 45 and there it was, the thing I had most feared.
The Lune river is a legendary river not only for the fact that it holds the largest size in all of Hobbiton but also because it is said that the haven that the elves retreated to long ago, Valinor, can be found past the grey mists.
It had been Valinor then, Niklas thought. But what happened to the peaceful haven I've read about?