Harry slipped the glinting silver ring onto his finger. Unfortunately as he did so the world seemed to swim around him and his world faded to black.
When he woke, he found himself in a tumbling down dungeon like room that seemed to have an air of warmth…strangely and for an odd reason he hated the warmth. The hatred coiled in to his soul as if it was trying to strangle him inside out. In his stress and turmoil he failed to notice the rings emerald eyes glinting malevolently.
Finally his body gave out from the sheer pain and he fainted once again. Only to come to much later with a massive headache. When he opened his eyes however he found himself staring into a pair of silver ones that seemed grey in certain lights. As his eyes focused he found that the eyes of the person he was staring at belonged to a man in what looked to be a mere forty year body. He thought that forty seemed young for the man above him because his eyes showed so much wisdom…and disgustingly enough trust.
His face was weather beaten and he had shoulder length hair that was a deep mahogany brown. Harry would almost call him handsome if Harry himself were gay.
"Who may I have had the pleasure of rescuing from our dear dungeons?" the man asked in mirth that was as far as Harry could tell, genuine.
He frowned and replied shortly, "I don't really consider any dungeon dear."
The man laughed a deep and rich laugh. One that took all the wrinkles, and wear away from the man's face. Of course this actually had Harry considering for a moment that perhaps he actually was gay and didn't know it.
"Of course not! I was merely in question on how one so young, and not to mention the guards had no clue who that you were, got thrown into the dungeons." The man replied to Harry's sarcasm.
Harry smiled after a second, "well I really don't remember. All I can think of is that I put on this ring and…there I am," he said. A nagging pull at the back of his mind was warning him not to mention anything about technology…he didn't understand why but his hunches had always proved correct in the past so he went along with it…maybe the people here were Amish.
A girl bustled in and his mind died from shock. A girl that beautiful just couldn't be human. She just couldn't be. The girl smiled and moved beside the bed carrying a bowl of water that had a sweet and at the same time burning scent to it and laid it beside the man.
"Would my lord wish supper be brought to him and his patient as well?" she asked in a voice that felt like liquid sunlight.
"No, Liana, we will be fine until the midday." The man said again.
Harry was in shock again that day…this man was a lord?
"Yes. Milord Aragorn." " she said softly and bowed her way out of the room.
"You're a lord?" Harry asked, amazement was clear in his voice. Compared to this man he now felt as if he were a toddler.
Lord Aragorn smiled as he dipped a towel into the water. "Actually, melonin, I am the king of Gondor."