Thank you for reading, please leave a comment as it is helpful when I write more. I hope that you enjoy the story.

Disclaimer: I do not now, have not and unfortunately will not own Lord of the Rings. (I am a bit obsessed though)

7.

Strider moved so swiftly that the hobbits and I nearly had to jog in order to keep up, yet he never seemed to tire. At the speed that we traveled, it only took a few days before we reached a place which Strider called "Weathertop". It was an amazing sight. It was a hill, standing alone with the remains of a once great watch tower visible against the setting sun. As I gazed at the ruins of the tower I wondered how it was destroyed, what kind of people used to live here, and where did they go?

I had seen so many new and different things in the past few days, and I was continually in awe of everything that I saw. From the myriad of stars in the sky at night and the brightness of the moon, the warmth of the sun, the many different kinds of trees, the grass and flowers, the sounds of birds, even the rocks were different. The hobbits would give me strange looks whenever they noticed my near constant amazement at my surroundings, Strider however, was another matter. Whenever he noticed me looking around at everything, or touching different parts of nature; he would get a strange look on his face. His mouth would form a hard line, his eyes would become clouded with anger, and he would move forward at a swifter pace than before.

Though I was in awe of my surroundings, and wanted to see so much more of the world around me, I felt…lost. No one hit me anymore and while it was a nice change, I wasn't told to do anything either. When I attempted to do anything, Strider simply shook his head and told me to sit. I didn't know what my purpose was with Strider, he had taken me from Him, yet what did he want or even intend for me to do?

I had wandered away from the others, looking at the ruins in fascination and sadness, when I heard someone coming up behind me. Turning, I saw Strider standing with a torch and his hand on his sword. I dropped to my knees and waited for him to tell me what he wanted me to do. I was surprised to feel a hand grasp my upper arm and gently pull me upwards to stand in front of him. Strider's hand on my arm moved under my chin and lifted my face to make me look at him. His face was saddened by something, yet there was much kindness in his face as well and his voice was gentle when he spoke. It was as though he thought me a wild animal or a skittish horse that would bolt if startled.

"Do not kneel, I promised you that you would be safe. I know that this must be confusing for you, but please trust me when I say that the life you have previously known no longer exists. Whatever you were before, you are that no longer. " He extended a hand towards me and continued speaking in a calm voice, though I could hear the underlying sadness and I wished that I knew the cause of it. "Come with me. I need to scout the area around Weather Top before we can really make camp for the night."

I took his hand, my head reeling from what he had told me, and followed him as he moved down the hill to circle around and make sure that the area was secure. I looked back at Weathertop and noticed that the hobbits had started a fire—most likely to cook something that they had picked up along the way. I liked the hobbits, they were fun and had odd ways of encouraging each other to keep going.

Strider had bent down to study something on the ground, when a loud-high pitched shriek split the night—it sent chills down my spine and seemed to freeze the blood in my veins. It was more frightening than anything I had ever heard. Strider muttered something under his breath, sprang up and started running back towards Weathertop. I paused for only a moment before following him. I had no idea what made that noise and I didn't want to go anywhere near it. Yet, Strider seemed to think that it was headed for the hobbits, so I had to follow or else be left alone in the dark.

When I reached Weathertop, Strider was waving his torch at a figure in black. It sent a chill through the air, a chill of fear and despair permeated from it. The same chill emanated as well from the other identical figures that were fleeing from Strider's torch, and the flames which had begun to cover them. They let out unearthly shrieks as they burned. They turned and ran away into the night; then there was only one left and Strider's back was to it. I watched, terrified as the figure approached him. Then without warning, Strider turned and threw the torch into the hood of the being, lighting it on fire and sending it shrieking into the night.

The hobbits were crouching near a ruined pillar, watching Strider in a mixture of awe and apprehension and trying to do something for Frodo who was in obvious pain. There was blood running down his arm from his shoulder. Strider hurried over to him and picked up a sword which had fallen to the ground, when he picked it up it dissolved into dust as he spoke.

"He has been stabbed by a Morgul blade. This is beyond my skill to heal, he needs Elvish medicine."

Strider dropped the hilt of the sword as though it had burned him; he moved forward between the hobbits, picked up Frodo and put him on the horse. Frodo screamed as he was moved and placed on top of the horse, the wound in his shoulder aggravated by every movement.

Strider pushed us all even faster down from Weathertop and across the land. It was vital that we got to Rivendell as soon as possible. I did what I could to help him stay on the horse, walking at his side and giving him water when he needed it. Trying to do my part in keeping him alert and hopefully alive. I could only hope that we would make it to Rivendell in time.