This story incorporates pieces of the LotR book and movies so don't be confused by parts you may not recognize from the movie. I'd like to thank the author of the LotR epic "The Traveler" for giving me the inspiration and courage to finally post this (I've been writing this for quite some time). Enjoy, please review A LOT, and any advice would be greatly appreciated, but please don't be too mean, it's my first fanfic, and I'm hoping for it to be an epic. Read and Review please.
It's finally here, my Redo of the first chapter. Sorry this has taken so long, now that I have a bit more time I can make the beginning as detailed as I originally intended, review with your thoughts, and enjoy : )
It had been a hard day of college, reports piling up, and my finals next week; I thought I'd be crushed beneath my mountains of work.
I walked from my house to the library everyday, always running by the old sturdy oak tree in front of my house as I did. The old tree had been outside my house as long as I could remember; despite my parents desire to tear it down.
I had just arrived at the local library to study for my final I had in two hours on Nomenclature, when I found a pleasant surprise.
"Ben!" I shouted, seeing my old high school friend.
"Hey Derek," he replied, "What are you doing here?"
"Final studying, what are you doing here?"
"O a few friends decided to pay a visit to home before our second semester started," he chuckled softly to himself. "We got out a week ago."
I thought to myself what a lucky devil he was when what he had said finally donned on me. "Friends? Who else is with you?"
Ben laughed, knowing I would ask that, "Clark, Alex and Liz, they wanted to come here too, they'd all be happy to see you." He gave me a nudge and a wink; he knew that I had had the biggest crush on Liz during high school.
I rushed up to them; they were all hanging out in the fiction section, my personal favorite part of the library.
"Hi guys I said, shaking Clark and Alex's hands, and giving Liz a quick hug, it's so good to see you again."
"Hi Derek," said Liz, "it is nice to see you again," she giggled as she always did, I could feel myself blush. In high school I had always thought she had the cutest laugh. Clark and Alex were making fake kissing motions at me behind her as she spoke.
"Long time no see Derek," said Alex, I couldn't believe how huge he and Ben had gotten; their time in the army had done wonders. "We were just talking about you."
"Me?" I asked, "Why?"
"Because we found this," he revealed a strange edition of the Lord of the Rings by J.R.R Tolkien from behind his back. I had never seen it before, the words were in a green shimmering print and the pictures glowed a golden hue.
"Wow," I stepped forward, admiring the picture of the Shire adorning the front, seeing as how I had always been an avid Tolkien fan. I've never seen this copy, and I come here all the time," I turned to Clark. "Where did you find it?"
"Liz saw it glowing from the bookcase and we thought of you, since you bored us to death with this book back when we were in high school."
"I always found your lectures on the book interesting," Liz added. "But I was always a Shakespeare buff myself."
"Glad I never listened to you," Ben chuckled softly. "I could never read past the first ten pages, and those movies always put me to sleep."
"Thanks for finding these guys; if I ever have time after the finals I'll be sure to check this out." Unable to resist I opened to the first page, an act would change my life forever.
The ink seemed to run and merge together, at first I thought I had ruined it, until they began to swirl into the book, forming a tornado within the pages. I felt a strong force and pretty soon I was unable to hold my ground, losing my footing I fell forward…into the book. My last image before I blacked out was four outlines following me in.
As I woke up I realized the splitting pain in the back of my head, cradling my skull I rose to my feet, and almost fell down again at the sight which stood before me.
I stood before a massive forest upon an open grassy plain; a small town loomed on the horizon with smoke rising from old fashioned chimneys. I didn't know what to think of what had happened to me, curiosity grabbed me as I searched around me; there was no sign of the library or my friends anywhere in sight. Breathing heavily I made all speed towards the small town, hoping to find answers there.
A gate stood before the entrance to the town, a view port opened, allowing an old man to peek out, eyeing me with paranoid interest.
"Who are you? And what is your business here?" he asked in a gruff voice, I immediately didn't like the look of him, though he looked oddly familiar.
"Um," I couldn't think of what to say so I said the first thing that came to mind. "My name is Derek, and I don't see why my business should be any of yours."
"Okay okay," said the old man. "Everyone is so queer today, I meant no disrespect, you may pass."
As I passed through the opening door, I got a better view of the town. It was made up of a grouping of old wooden houses lined up, the people seemed to be shorter than the average person I knew but I paid it little mind. After walking for several moments I found a building with a sign hanging over the entrance, I nearly fell over again in shock.
I read it several times, quickly at first and slowly to be sure I was reading it correctly
"The Prancing Pony."
"No way," I whispered to myself. "No way." Was this the village of Bree? I had to know, taking a deep breath I entered the inn hesitantly.
"Well hello there young sir," I turned quickly, a rather tall portly man was standing behind the counter, "I'm afraid we have no rooms left to a gentleman of your size, but the tavern is always open to weary travelers from afar."
Looking down I realized he was probably referring to my T-shirt and blue jeans, which were covered with mud and quite wet from the heavy rain outside.
"Thank you Mr.? I expected the name, but had to be sure.
"Butterburs me name. Help yerself to some refreshments," he finished before picking up a tray of mugs and disappearing into the tavern.
I found my first seat and sat down, having finally proven to myself what had happened had happened. I had entered the Lord of the Rings…middle-earth.
So caught up in my troubles I didn't notice a tall cloaked man sitting in the corner, his eyes fell upon me for a half moment, then returned to the one he had been watching all night.
Usually this would be a dream come true for me, yet I didn't know what was going on. If this world followed the book or if I was stuck in here forever, I was afraid I may not find anyone who could help me. I was on the verge of screaming out in frustration, when the sound of nearby singing broke me from my madness.
There is an inn a merry old inn
Beneath an old grey hill
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill
I whipped around, to see none other than a small, little over four foot tall, man dancing on the tables singing, his hand resting in his coat pocket. Hope filled me again for I knew that that man was none other than Frodo Baggins, or at least I hoped so.
I rushed over to greet him, when he tripped and fell over; I saw a glimmer of gold over his head, before he vanished into thin air. Looking left and right for him I knew he would reappear in a few moments, and he did.
Deciding not to interrupt this I watched as the hobbit picked himself up. After apologizing to Mr. Butterbur for the hassle he made his way upstairs toward the rooms, the cloaked man subtly walked up the stairs shortly after, no doubt he was following Frodo, so I followed him.
The upper level was dark and almost devoid of light, however a lantern hanging from the stairwell quickly remedied my situation and I continued up, my heart pounding in my chest. I made my way to a door that appeared slightly ajar, summoning all my courage I leaned up against it and listened closely.
"Disappear entirely that is a rare gift…frightened?...not nearly frightened….what hunts you," was all I could make out.
Before I could hear anymore the door suddenly flew open, a hand reached out, grabbing me and pulling me in, throwing me onto the bed.
"Who are you?" asked the cloaked man, his face now fully revealed. He had black hair which ended a little past his shoulders; it was quite unruly, tangled and curly like he had never owned a comb. "Answer me," he yelled a little louder.
"M-my name is Derek," I stuttered. "Don't worry I'm a friend." As I finished three more hobbits rushed in, yelling at the stranger, just as I remembered. After knowing these three were no threat he returned his attention to me.
"What did you hear?"
"I know all about his task," I felt a little braver now with Sam, Merry, and Pippin present. "I also know that the Nazgul hunt him." My heart was pounding as I spoke, praying that he would believe me.
"How could you know that?" asked the cloaked man, who I knew was Aragorn, or Strider at this point. "Are you a servant of the enemy?"
"NO!" I shouted, fearful he may slay me in belief that I served Mordor. "I don't serve the dark lord Sauron."
"And how can we trust you?" Strider asked, inching closer threateningly.
"Um…um," I stuttered once more, thinking desperately of some piece of information I was aware of that could prove my allegiances. "You are Aragorn son of Arathorn…um, friend of Gandalf the Grey, the grey pilgrim who owns one of the three elven rings, he…"
Before I could say another word of near-senseless babble Strider quickly closed the gap between us, slapping his palm over my mouth.
"How could you possibly know the location of one of the three elven rings?" He whispered harshly."
"Does it matter? I'm here to help," I responded, prying his hand off my mouth. "Were I a servant of the enemy would I not have given that information to Sauron? The road ahead is filled with danger and you could use some help"
"Hmm," Strider grumbled. "Whether that story is true or not, with knowledge like that I can't simply leave you here to be discovered by the ringwraiths, you shall accompany us in our escape from Bree in the morning."
None of us slept well that night, as we were awoken by shrieks from the Prancing Pony, Strider had taken us to an old house across the town.
"What are they?" Frodo asked, for though he had fled from them he still did not know of their origins.
"Men…once," Strider responded. "Great kings of men, who in their greed accepted the nine rings of power, eventually becoming slaves to Sauron's will. They are the Nazgul, ringwraiths, neither living nor dead."
"Nazgul?" Sam asked, turning towards me. "Isn't that what you said to Mr. Strider? What you a ranger too?"
I chuckled at the thought before responding. "No Sam, I'm not, I just know a thing or two about them that's all. I've never seen one for real…"
"Rest now," Strider interrupted, wrapping his cloak about him. "For tomorrow we make for the wilderness, and good sleep seldom comes there."
I laid down as flat as I could in the dilapidated home, yet even those walls could give me no peace of mind that night.
The next day, after acquiring the old pony Bill we set out from Bree, though Strider didn't say where I knew perfectly well where we were going.
Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin, the four hobbits that Strider was escorting away from Bree seemed to trust Strider about as much as he trusted me, save for Frodo who truly believed he was a friend of Gandalf.
"Where do you think he's leading us off to?" asked Sam to Frodo.
"To Rivendell master Gamgee," I replied, unable to help myself. "To the house of Elrond." Strider gave me a slightly annoyed look.
We rested that night in the forest around Bree, there had been no sign of the ringwraiths, though I had yet to see one I knew that was what was chasing them. Strider approached me in the night as the hobbits slept, with a small bundle in his arms.
"Can you use a sword?" he asked me.
"Well enough," I responded, not knowing why I worded my response quite that way.
He unwrapped the bundle, revealing several long swords much like the sheath he carried, though he had never used it.
"Aside from myself, you are the only other who can wield a sword of this size; keep it close, we may need it."
I spent the remainder of the night practicing, using an unfortunate tree as my sparring partner, getting a feel for the sword. It was a lot heavier than the fencing foils I was used to, but I got slightly proficient with it, and only at the cost of several nights sleep as we journeyed across the land surrounding Bree.
Over the next few days of walking I practiced more and got to know the hobbits, it turns out Pippin was as thick in this world as he was in the movie. Merry would always scold Pippin when he spoke in his thick tone, it was obvious they were best of friends.
Perhaps the most unsavory part of the trek was when we passed through the bog surrounding Bree, it went on for miles. My own clothes were utterly ruined, the mucky bog water stained and tarnished my jeans, my shirt was ripped, and the cloak strider had given me barely kept the freezing water from splashing my face, I figured the rest of the hobbits were fairing about as well as I.
The bugs were even less wanted, as numerous creatures continuously bit, stung, and otherwise annoyed us throughout our passage across the bog. As expected Sam named them 'neeker breekers," due to the weird sound they made.
"What do they eat…when they can't get hobbit?" Sam asked, continuously swatting away swarms of the bugs.
"Too bad the ringwraiths watch the roads," I responded in hopes of raising spirits. "Were they to follow us in here even they would be eaten alive." Despite my attempt none among us laughed, coughing to cover up my embarrassment we continued walking.
Thankfully it didn't take too long to clear the bog, once again reaching the relative safety of nearby forests, where we made camp once more.
The campfire was kept low, to avoid being discovered, as the other hobbits slept I gazed up at the unfamiliar sky, contemplating the things around me.
This is almost a dream come true," I thought to myself. But how did I even get here, the book? And if so then would people get worried about me? No doubt people would notice I was missing and get worried, but how could…
For the second time since I landed in the fields outside Bree I was interrupted by a soft song, being sung by Strider, who was sitting on a nearby rock, still on guard.
Tinuviel Elvanui
Elleth alfirin ethelhael
O hon ring,
Finil fuinui, renc gelebrin thiliol…
"Who is she?" Came a question from the nearby darkness, I lurched a little in surprise, calming upon realizing it was only Frodo. "The woman you sing of?"
Strider barely tilted his head, answering softly. "It is the lady of Luthien, and elf-maiden who gave her love to Beren, a mortal man."
"Hey, I remember that story," I responded, sitting up slightly. "Though I didn't understand what you were saying in elvish. Did they not together take a simaril from the iron crown of Morgo…"
"Do not speak that name here so openly!" Strider whispered, intensity in his voice. "How you have such knowledge and yet remained unknown to the rangers is beyond my grasp at present, however I shall ask no more of the matter until we are safely within the home of Elrond."
"But…what happened to her, Luthien?" Frodo asked, still wishing to hear the end of the story.
"She died…get some sleep, both of you," with that he turned around, back to watching the surrounding landscape. Hesitantly I too laid my head down, dozing off into an uneasy peace.
Several nights later we came to a watch post which Strider described as Amon Sul, but I knew it as Weathertop. Knowing what was to come, I decided to sleep as much as possible before nightfall, and Strider went off to scout out the land.
A terrible shriek woke me, apparently in my weariness I had slept through the hobbit's cooking fire. In fear the hobbits were huddled together, their swords drawn, I quickly followed suit. Grabbing a nearby chunk of wood I lit it in the fire, creating a makeshift torch, though it revealed little of the enclosing darkness.
That's when I saw them, five black shapes derived from nightmares slowly inching their way towards us, I raised my sword in defense. They came simultaneously, walking side by side their swords unsheathed. A great fear I had never felt in my life struck me, though I knew what these things were, no matter what I told myself it seemed as if I had turned to ice on the inside. The inner cold made it difficult to breathe, as if the temperature around us had dropped drastically in the moments since the creatures appeared, I too backed up slowly with the hobbits.
At first I was prepared to drop my sword and run, but Sam's valiant yet futile charge at the lead wraith snapped me out of it. Mustering all my will to movie I jumped upon the closest wraith, tackling him to the ground.
Upon regaining my senses I swung the sword Strider had given me, yet he easily parried, its strength seemed unreal as it easily tossed me off it. It swung again, this time I parried, though I lost some footing as its sheer force knocked me back. As it came again I knew I could not win this way, so I threw my makeshift torch at the wraith as it came closer, the torch landed at its feet, setting the rim of its dark cloak aflame. Its screech seemed inhuman as it howled in pain, throwing itself from the tower.
Confident of myself I grabbed the torch and turned to the others, to find three more approaching me, the fourth was busy with Frodo. I rose my sword in a pathetic defense, knowing I stood no chance against three of them, I expected to die.
The three jumped back, the sight of dual torches setting them ablaze gave me hope, Strider had returned.
Unfortunately though they were defeated Frodo was still wounded by the Morgul blade, we made all haste for Rivendell.
After several days of constant travel we rested at the base of three solidified trolls, though I barely noticed them. In the night Strider approached me after tending to Frodo.
"That was no small amount of courage you displayed upon Amon Sul my friend, few can say they have bested one of the nine in battle."
"I only won because of the fire," I replied, not very proud of myself. "It was a far superior swordsman to me."
"Yet you were the more clever, I admit that I did not trust you completely when I first laid eyes on you at Bree, but I can assure you that that is no more," he bowed slightly. "It will be an honor to fight alongside you should it come to that again." He paused before asking his next questing. "You said your name was Derek did you not, where are you from?
"Yes I did," I replied hesitantly. I continued to explain to him everything that had happened since I opened the book, explaining that I came from another world with no way back.
"Derek," Strider repeated once I had finished, stroking his chin. "That is an odd name for these parts, the enemy may grow suspicious of your origins, you shall need a new one."
"What should I call myself?" I asked, unsure as to what names weren't odd for around here.
"I have many names," replied Strider with a hearty chuckle. "You may have one of mine, for now you shall be called: Dunedan, after my people the Dunedain rangers."
"Th-thank you," I stuttered as Strider bowed and returned to tending Frodo's wounds.
I laid back down on the ground, falling into a weary trance. "Dunedan," I repeated.
The sound of hoof beats interrupted my stupor; I prepared to draw my sword, until I realized it was not a ringwraith, but a tall rider upon a white horse. I could only guess that the rider was an elf, due to the pointed ears I saw protruding from his golden blonde hair. The elf spoke to Strider in a language I recognized as elvish from Strider's song the other night, before turning to me and speaking in English.
"I am Glorfindel sent by the Lord Elrond to guide you."
At least they didn't cut Glorfindel out this time, I thought to myself with a soft chuckle. (Yes I always hated how Glorfindel wasn't in the movie or animated movie)
Whew, been wanting to redo this chapter for some time, though the changes aren't too large I think the added detail is worth it. I sort of rushed it the first time I made it, I hope you enjoy it even more than the first draft, review with your thoughts, sorry for the delays :)
