The darkness of Weathertop defied all lingering of life. It's tall half dilapidated pillars standing merely on the brink of collapsing. Sunlight had neither been known or was of any use at it's high up altitude. Standing above the horizon showing almost eminence to all that surrounded it. A soft yet icy cold wisp of wind came in and swept Aragorn's long ratty dark hair away from his masterful features. Hazel green orbs perring out at the land far below as if staking out its prey. Always alert. Always ready. His weather-beaten hand slowly made its way to the hilt of his sword at his side. Frodo sat upon the cold hard ground that consisted of rocks from many ages ago. His dark curly strands of hair cascading upon the pale whitness of his worried features. As the hobbits around him bickered and argued over who got which sword. Aragorn turned quickly revealing his masculine lineament. The look upon his eyes was not one that Frodo nor the others had ever gazed at before. The look of terror. Frodo noticed this and spoke to him. His voice soft and restraint as if afrais of the answer. "What's wrong?" he said. Aragorn looked towards the ground and shook his head slightly with the notion of calmness and surity. This he had always shown. "Nothing Frodo. You should all get some sleep. The road ahead may proove to be easy but we are not always sure." His voice sounding deep and mellow. A trait that he always seemed to offer to them even at the worst of times. Walking towards Frodo he congregated the pack of swords on the ground before the hobbits' feet and picked them up with little difficulty. Swinging them over his shoulder. "Stay here. I will keep guard tonight. Do not wander. it is far too dangerous for foolish acts." he spoke. The hobbits nodded in unison looking quite like children in trouble. As soon as he took his leave, Sam laid down on the blanket that he had det up for himself. Merry and Pippin talked quietly for some time before deciding also to get some rest. Which they did. Frodo sat near the edge of the watch tower. His feet dangling off its side as he glanced down at the brown tawdry of dead land. Wondering what it was like before. In it's higher days when all was well and he himself did not know about the ring. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and when opening them , lifted his head towards the black night sky. Lit with a multitude of stars. Every one seeming to tell a diffrent story. Some shining brighter than others.. Longfully possesing the kowledge of goos and bad from gazing down at both in thier times. One day Frodo had hoped that he would be able to look up at those same stars in the one place that he had dreamt of returning to, the Shire.He let his hands brush the gravel beneath them. Fingertips getting dirty and rough. The smell of the dead dry air filled his nostrils and lungs as he took a breath in. He tried to stray away from any thoughts about where he was. Suddenly, the air filled with a diffrent scent. Cold hard metal upon the night noises rang out. The clitter-clatter of swords being unsheathed could be heard. Frodo's eyes grew filled with concern and anxiety. He rose from his sitting spot and went to rise the others. Shaking Sam, he awoke from his dream."Sam!..They're coming!" Sam's big brown eyes widened. He stood and ran to the edge to have a look for hismelf. While he did so Frodo awoke Merry and Pippin also. Informing them of what was happening. There all four hobbits stood leaderless and trembling. They each unsheathed thier swords. Holding them up high as the moonlight reflected off of thier metal blades. Pippin ran down the almost abolished staircase leading to a circle of pillars like a pinnacle. Scared out of his mind he shook with fear and awaited the other hobbits to come.