Trapped In Lord of the Rings | Book 1 | (Currently Being Rewritten)

Strider

I followed silently up the stairs and stopped at the end of the hall where a door closed sharply. I waited for Sam, Merry, and Pip to come before showing them the door. Merry had a candlestick, while Pip was holding a chair. Sam busted in with nothing but his fists, shouting "Let him go! Or I'll have you, Longshanks!"

Strider had his sword out, and he sighed when he saw us. "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit," he said, sheathing it. "But that will not save you. You can no longer wait for your wizard, Frodo," he said as he looked at Frodo and took a few steps closer to him. "They're coming."

I suddenly saw the man at the gate. There was a snorting noise behind the door, and he went out to investigate. As soon as he opened the slider, the door was kicked in, crushing him, and the black riders came rushing in, crushing him even more. They rushed through the streets, coming into the Prancing Pony with their swords drawn. They came to a room with four, Hobbit-sized beds quietly. They each snuck around to a bed and raised their swords above it. After a few seconds, they began stabbing them cruelly. They paused after a moment, ripping the sheets away from the probably mangled bodies, and screeched when they saw that they were only pillows.

I jerked awake, sitting up quickly, covered, again, in sweat. Everyone was looking at me, and Frodo came to sit by me. "Jenakin?" he said worriedly. "Jenakin, are you alright?"

I looked around for a moment and nodded weakly. I noticed I was sitting on the floor with a pillow where my head had been.

"You just passed out," he said. "We didn't know what to do."

I sighed, remembering that we had tried to save Frodo. I nodded again, and he helped me up and onto the foot of the bed, which was occupied by Sam, Merry and Pippin. Strider was sitting on the window ledge, watching the Nine tear apart the bedroom in the dim light across the muddy yard.

"What are they?" Frodo asked him.

They screeched again.

"They were once Men," he explained. "Great Kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power. Blended by their greed, they took them without question. One by one, falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will."

I watched through the window as they got on their hoarses and galloped away.

Strider looked at him. "They are the Nazgûl. Ringwraiths. Neither living nor dead." He looked back outside and continued. "At all times they feel the presence of the Ring." I saw them galloping down a road as Strider continued. "Drawn to the power of the One." Then I saw them individually, all in different places.

"They will never stop hunting you," he finished.

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The sun was just over the horizon as we jogged uphill, now many miles from Bree. There was just enough space on the saddle of the horse Strider brought along for me to sit on. With much complaining from Merry and Pippin, I sat on the horse so I wouldn't fall behind. He guided the horse over hills and through woods, all the while I looked at the views Middle Earth offered. I got frequant visions of the wraiths galloping along some ways behind us or standing above ledges, all the whole looking for Frodo and the Ring.

"Where are you taking us?" Frodo inquired after a while.

"Into the Wild," Strider said in response.

"How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf?" I heard Merry ask as we trekked through another forest. I looked at him, and he was looking at Strider. I just rolled my eyes.

"We have no choice but to trust him," Frodo said in front of him.

"But where's he leading us?" Sam, who was now holding the reins, inquired.