Disclaimer: I don't own the lord of the rings, Tolkien …something does .
Derion ran through the streets, it was kind of dark, but not like black dark, more like grey. It was always like that so Derion didn't notice.
Rohan wasn't the land it once was anymore. It was 150 years since Sauron got the ring during the bloody fight against the free people of Middle-earth, the fight it weren't allowed to talk about, but everybody did anyway, grandparents told their grandchildren tales about it, and the children told each other about it and played that they were fighting for Middle-earth. Derion was one of those who loved the stories his grandfather used to tell him, used to; he would never tell Derion about the battle again, he would never tell anyone anything again. Derion would never hear his laughter again, never sit on his lap again, never tell him about his days again, no him grandfather was dead, gone forever. Derion kept running, it was late, this was anither thing that weren't allowed, to be out this late, but Derion didn't care, he was going to do worse things soon, but first he had something more important to do, he was 13; all boys at 13 were sent to Mordor to serve the Lord of the Ring for a year, he didn't want to go. He wanted to hang out with the boys, show them what he had found in the old castle…
Derion rounded the corner in the end of his street, to men dressed I black were standing outside his house.
It knocked on the door, Derions mum went to open.
"Yes?" she said, the she noticed who it was. Two men dressed in black, you couldn't see their faces; not that anyone wanted to see them.
"I'm so sorry" she said, "I didn't know who it was" One of the men made a growling sound
"Your son" the other one said.
"Eh…" she said, "he…"
"He what?" the man said impatient.
"He…" at the same moment Derion came jogging up to them.
"Good evening" he said. "Can I help you?" They grabbed his arms.
"What!" Derion screamed, "Let me go!"
"You're 13." The shortest man said "and out after 8" Derion tried to get free.
"Let me go!" he yelled, "I won't go with you! I…" the tallest man hit him in the face. Then Derion looked at him mum.
"Maybe I should just go," he said sad, "gramp's not here anymore." His eyes filled with tears; if he left he couldn't see his mum again. The man who had hit him grabbed his arm again, they pulled him away.
"What the hell was that for?" Derion asked when they had got into the forest, "You weren't supposed to hit me!"
The tall one took of his hood, and the face of Derion's friend Jorgi was to be seen.
"It had to look real you know. Your mum had to believe it." He said, and Derion sighed, he knew Jorgi was right, his mum had to believe that the dark knights had been there and taken him.
"He's right Derion" the other one said and took his hood of, Derion turned towards him, and looked at his other friend Trevor, who was about 1.55 meters high and had a smile that could cheer up anyone.
"Yeah I know, " he said "I just…"
"I know it's hard, but you did the right thing. If you hadn't they would've taken you."
"I know, but…" Derion said "no, you're right, there was no other choice"
"Come on now boy, let's go." Jorgi smiled and walked on, and Derion followed.
"Here it is" Jorgi said, and pushed away some plants so that a cave opening was to be seen. They all got inside and Jorgi found a candle.
"Guys, I've found something I the ruins of the castle." Derion got their attention "A book" He pulled it out from his jacket and opened it "There and back again, a hobbit tale by Bilbo Baggins. …what is a hobbit?" The other two shaked their heads.
"No idea" Trevor said.
"Me neither." Jorgi said.
They sat in silence a while, and Derion read in the book. Sometimes he said things like "guys look at this" or "This is really cool"
A week or so later, they sat in the cave and Derion read some lines that he had found in the book,
"Guys, listen: All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong, does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost, from the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadow shall spring; renewed shall be the blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king."
"Yeah, so?" Jorgi asked uninterested.
"Bilbo, the hobbit wrote it about his friend, Dúnadan."
"Ok?" This time it was Trevor.
"Don't you see it? Who does we know about that fought with a sword that had been broken? Who was the crownless king?"
"But, his name was Ellesar…" Trevor was obviously confused.
"He had many names, Bilbo knew him as Dúnedan, his nephew knew him as Strider, or Aragorn. It's the same person."
"Our hobbit knew Ellesar?" Jorgi was as shocked as Derion, who just nodded.
Sorry it took a long time, I hope it was worth it. And You will see some HP stuff in the next chapter.