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.
