There- And Back Again?

A/N: Yes, yes, I know. Crappy self-insertion. To quote the immortal Dorothy Parker, 'Lord, give me my chocolate and my alcohol, and any other guilty pleasure that comes along; then, and only then, will my life make sense.' Well, let's hope it won't become a Mary-Sue then. Otay? Tell me if it is one.

I yawned again, and stretched. I was about to roll over and get back to sleep, when I realized that something was very wrong. There was a rock poking into my back, and grass tickling my feet. I gingerly cracked my eye open, expecting to see my little sisters grinning down at me, having carried me downstairs into the yard, or something.

Of all the things in the world to see, the last one I expected was a field of long grass- certainly not the short kind that grew all around my house- and a tiny stream full of rocks flowing inches away from my feet. I opened both eyes, considerably shocked at the sight, and looked around. There was no sign of…anything, actually. I tried to think.

All I remembered was drifting off to sleep in my room. Then I considered something else- it had been sunny and cold in Stratford, with a fall breeze that put a nip into the air and made the leaves' colors seems crisper, sharper. But here-wherever I was-the sun was shining brightly, and it was very warm indeed. So warm, in fact, that my heavy brown school sweater was becoming uncomfortable. There was no point in being lost, bewildered and hot, so I drew it over my head.

Tying the sweater around my waist, I took a good look around. Past the small brook that babbled at my feet, the field of long grass seemed to go on…and on…and on…as far as the eye could see. I sighed, and sat on the ground in perplexity. The reality that I had no idea where I was finally hit me.

Had I been kidnapped? It was feasible, but not very; my parents weren't rich, and we lived in one of the safest places in the country. Besides, who would want to kidnap me? I wasn't worth any money, as far as I knew.

My father had been working at home today, I remembered; anyone who had broken into the house would have had to get past him, and my room was in the hayloft. Besides, no one that wasn't in my family except Grace knew where I slept; in fact, my room was very hard to find unless you knew what you were looking for. Also, if I had been kidnapped, where were my kidnappers? Why was I unbound?

The only other possibility I could think of was that my dad or mum had decided to play some kind of joke on me. I knew my parents had a wacky sense of humour, but it wasn't this strange. If my parents had decided to pull a prank and drive me out to some random field somewhere while I was asleep, they would have showed themselves by now; I knew them. And where, within drivable distance, could you go that was in the depth of summer when Stratford was in the middle of autumn?

My musing was interrupted by a distant rumbling. With my luck, that's my kidnappers, I thought, all traces of my former terrific mood having disappeared. Frantically, I wondered how long it would take for my parents to realise I was gone.

My mother, being the organised one, would probably take a day or so; while my father could immerse himself in work for weeks, completely oblivious to anything outside. It was tough trying to get him to eat sometimes. I smiled ruefully, remembering the chemistry set he'd gotten me for my birthday one year. Despite his hopes, I would never be a scientist to follow in his footsteps; I was a writer through and through.

The rumbling came closer, and this time I could see what caused it. My jaw dropped. A troop of riders were galloping up to me, getting closer by the second. Ku Klux Klan…? I thought vaguely, remembering some kind of movie we'd seen in history class. The thought was quickly banished; I didn't see any white hoods anywhere, and besides, the KKK lived in Alabama, or Georgia, was it? It would probably be this warm in Alabama, though…

The riders were now far to my left. In fact, they didn't seem to notice me. I was confused- if they weren't my captors, who were?

One of the riders, on a large bay horse, appeared to notice me. I couldn't see that well, they were too far off, but they all seemed to be wheeling around, and…and…

They were all galloping towards me.

I gasped, and decided to run. My feet suddenly became determined to stick to the ground, however, and I couldn't move. They were coming closer. I could see that they were blond- all of them. There wasn't a brunette among the group. Like the Riders of Rohan, I thought, and then kicked myself. Trust me to think about Lord of the Rings at a time like this, when my life or death hung in the balance.

The sun glinted on their armor, reflecting off their spears…wait a minute. Armor? Spears? Had I fallen into the Renaissance Faire?

Those spears didn't look fake. Neither did the armor. Or the helmets. Or the looks of grim determination on each of their faces as they surrounded me.

"You there, maiden!" said the tallest one. I immediately guessed that he was the leader. Brilliant, no?

"Er…yes?" I answered awkwardly, trying not to quail under the hostile stares of the warriors- because these were warriors, what kind I didn't know. Maybe I had…hell, I gave up trying to rationalize. I must be dreaming. And then it lit up in my head like the light bulb in those Bugs Bunny cartoons- I was dreaming! What an utterly bizarre dream.

"What do you here in the Riddermark?" His voice was gruff and deep.

Good grief, it's…Rohan, I thought. It's always LotR, isn't it, even when I'm dreaming…

I didn't answer fast enough, I suppose, because one of them poked me with his spear- gently, I guess. It hurt. I felt it. I felt it.

This was no dream. It couldn't be, it was too real, maybe there were some hallucinatory drugs involved-

"Speak, or we will take you before Thengel King!"

And that was when I fainted.