Distant Voices
A/N: Here is a longer chapter ^_^ Yeah, I have no life :P
This one starts at Weathertop. Waaar. ^_^ I am Mithril, hear me waar! WAAAR!!!! ::blinks:: I think I scared away some readers.. darnit! Now I'm never gonna get reviews! ;_;
*****
The sun was dim and fading, as night began to show. Frodo sat on a ledge, the smooth red colored rocks cool to her skin. Strider had been gone for some time now, and she was beginning to doubt that he would return.
"I'm going to have a look around," He had said. "Stay here."
She held the short sword he had given her. It was sort of heavy, and very sharp. The dull metal glinted as the sun sank lower in the sky.
Behind her, Sam was preparing dinner over the fire, while Merry and Pippin fussed over what to eat. It felt like home, save for the cold wind.
Frodo tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling the long strands tangling to the breeze. Her light green skirt blew with the wind, chilling her legs as they dangled over the edge. The ground was far below, quiet an still. Setting the sword at her side wearily, Frodo yawned. She hadn't slept much the previous night, and it was starting to take it's toll on her.
The wind died down, and everything became unusually calm. Even Merry and Pippin had quieted themselves, awaiting Strider's return. With a tired yawn, Frodo lay down in her bedroll by the wall of the cliff. She was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the ground.
It was a dreamless sleep, with the feeling of just being, not doing. Nothing changed around her. Everything stayed dark. She felt nothing. But she heard voices.
She opened her eyes, realizing that the voices were coming from her friends and not from her dream. She had been sleeping for hours, but it had only felt like minutes. The sky had darkened, but there was a faint light behind her. She figured it was fine, until she realized that if the ring wraiths were looking, then the light would serve as a beacon.
"What are you doing?!" She cried in alarm, sitting straight up.
"We toasted up some nice crispy bacon," Merry said, his mouth full of food.
Sam held up a plate as Frodo stumbled out of her bedroll.
"We saved some for you Frodo."
Frodo ignored him, running to the fire and stomping it out.
"Put it out you fools, put it out!"
The fire didn't spread to her slippers as she stopmed it out, but the wood that had been burning stung her feet as well. She could hear Pippin complaining about the ash, and Merry moving away from her. As the light flickered and died, a loud screech filled the night. Running to to the edge of the ledge again, Frodo cried out.
Five ring wraiths approached through the thick fog. Frodo grasped her sword and turned to the others.
"Go!"
Not needing to be told twice, the four hobbits took off running up the stairs. The night was quiet, enabling them to hear any intruders. Sam, Merry, and Pippin had all gathered around Frodo, ready to protect her if need be. They all had their swords out, Frodo facing one way while the others faced another.
The fog drifted in, reaching much higher than it should have. Frodo stared at the steps as a shadowy figure came forward. Choked by her fear, she backed up, eyes fixed on the wraith. Merry and Sam looked at her questioningly as she stepped backwards past them, eyes wide with terror. They also turned to see the wraiths emerging, five of them all together. Each held a jagged edged sword in their armor-clad hands.
They continued to advance, as four terrified hobbits looked up at them. THen, with a sudden burst of heroism, Sam leapt forward, determined to protect Frodo.
"Back, you devils!"
The seemingly leader of the group swatted him aside easily, and continued to advance. Merry and Pippin moved close together in front of Frodo, trying to be brave, but were simply thrown aside.
All five of the wraiths concentrated on Frodo, who stood there shaking. The sword fell from her hands uselessly as she backed up. She was barely aware of the dull clank the sword made when it hit the ground below her.
The tiny holes in the ground that had filled with rainwater were easily seen, yet the one that caught the back of her foot managed to evade her vision. She hit the ground, sending a sharp pain through her back, but she hardly noticed. Her eyes were locked on the ring wraiths.
Then, as if it had never been there, here fear vanished. Instead, she was overwhelmed by a strong need to wear the One Ring.
Despite the fact that five ring wraiths stood before her, she pulled the ring from her pocket and looked at it.
It was as if she had pulled out a bright light, for everyone turned to look at it. Eyes widening in horror, Frodo backed away, still to weary to get up. When the corner of a stair slamed into her back, she was forced to look up at one of the Nazgul, who had followed her.
He drew his sword, which Frodo thought he had already taken out, and pulled it back. She tried to speak, but ll that came out was a choked sob. In a last move of desperation, she put the ring on her finger, hoping to escape her foes.
The world around her became bright and blurry. In place of the five wraiths, were now old men. Each man wore a crown, with sunken eyes and bony features. The one closest to her reached for the ring, and as if being commanded by some unknown force, her hand began to rise.
When his fingers were mere inches from the ring, Frod pulled it back to her with a cry, holding her hand to her chest. Taken aback by her sudden action, the wraith withdrew his hand, then plunged his blade deep into her left shoulder.
The pain she felt was almost to great to imagine. It was as if someone had started a fire inside of her shoulder, then let it burn through her veins. She let forth a scream of pure agony, that was to be stopped only by short of breath. White hot flashes of pain exploded in her mind. Her entire body tensed and arched to the pain.
Then, like an angel of mercy, Strider appeared, swinging a sword and a torch in either hand. The blade was pulled from her shoulder as her savior in black fended off her attackers. She was barely conscious now, feeling the great fiery pain spreading through her body. It took great effort for her to pull the ring from her finger.
The sudden movement made her scream again as the shapes jarred back normal.
"Frodo!" Sam cried.
Sam ran to her in panic, stroking her hair to try and sooth her.
"Oh, Sam..." She whimpered.
It was hard enough for her to breath, let alone speak aloud. She offered a faint smile to him as Merry and Pippin came over as well.
The screeching of the wring wraiths as well as the clanking of blade against blade could be heard.
Frodo cried out again suddenly, as her vision blurred. The fire in her viens suddenly turned to ice and twisted inside of her, rendering her speechless. She could only make small noises now, as the world around her began to grow dark.
She vaguely heard Sam cry out for Strider as the Wraiths retreated.
"Help her Strider!" Sam cried.
The shapes began to move together then break apart, changing from what she normally saw to what she saw when she put on the ring. She was missing the words spoken by Sam and Strider, but she was aware of their presence.
Strider picked her up, cradling her in his arms delicately so as not to hurt her more. When he had gone to look around, he had never expected something like this would happen.
"But we're six days from Rivendell!" Sam's anguished voice broke into his thoughts. "She'll never make it!"
That was not an option for Strider. She HAD to make it. He wouldn't let her die. He was supposed to protect her. She had trusted him, though he had terrified her at first. While he had thought she was fooling around, knowing not the importance of the ring she carried, he learned that she did indeed know, and was wise beyond her years.
He wouldn't let her die like this. She was only a child. It shouldn't have been her burden. but fate worked in mysterious ways.
"Gandalf...." Frodo whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Hold on Frodo," Strider whispered, trying to comfort her.
She was whimpering and crying, her hair matted to her head by sweat. Her eyes were shut tightly, and the ring was still clutched in her left hand, even as she held her shoulder.
"Gandalf!" She cried loudly, before drifting off into an unconscious state.
*****
Wow... I typed like crazy to get this out.. ::yawns:: I hope my readers are happy. This is a longer chapter than the last, but not by much -_-
Hey, I have stuff to do too. Like Homework and Work.. and ::yawns:: sleep... so R/R!
Luv Mithril C.o.L.
Aragorn's Luver, Arwen Elessar ^_~
SSJ_Sky@hotmail.com
ssjSky59
(*^_^*): R/R! The pigtailed girl has spoken! OBEY!! ::the pigtailed girl falls asleep typing::
(*-_-*)
A/N: Here is a longer chapter ^_^ Yeah, I have no life :P
This one starts at Weathertop. Waaar. ^_^ I am Mithril, hear me waar! WAAAR!!!! ::blinks:: I think I scared away some readers.. darnit! Now I'm never gonna get reviews! ;_;
*****
The sun was dim and fading, as night began to show. Frodo sat on a ledge, the smooth red colored rocks cool to her skin. Strider had been gone for some time now, and she was beginning to doubt that he would return.
"I'm going to have a look around," He had said. "Stay here."
She held the short sword he had given her. It was sort of heavy, and very sharp. The dull metal glinted as the sun sank lower in the sky.
Behind her, Sam was preparing dinner over the fire, while Merry and Pippin fussed over what to eat. It felt like home, save for the cold wind.
Frodo tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling the long strands tangling to the breeze. Her light green skirt blew with the wind, chilling her legs as they dangled over the edge. The ground was far below, quiet an still. Setting the sword at her side wearily, Frodo yawned. She hadn't slept much the previous night, and it was starting to take it's toll on her.
The wind died down, and everything became unusually calm. Even Merry and Pippin had quieted themselves, awaiting Strider's return. With a tired yawn, Frodo lay down in her bedroll by the wall of the cliff. She was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the ground.
It was a dreamless sleep, with the feeling of just being, not doing. Nothing changed around her. Everything stayed dark. She felt nothing. But she heard voices.
She opened her eyes, realizing that the voices were coming from her friends and not from her dream. She had been sleeping for hours, but it had only felt like minutes. The sky had darkened, but there was a faint light behind her. She figured it was fine, until she realized that if the ring wraiths were looking, then the light would serve as a beacon.
"What are you doing?!" She cried in alarm, sitting straight up.
"We toasted up some nice crispy bacon," Merry said, his mouth full of food.
Sam held up a plate as Frodo stumbled out of her bedroll.
"We saved some for you Frodo."
Frodo ignored him, running to the fire and stomping it out.
"Put it out you fools, put it out!"
The fire didn't spread to her slippers as she stopmed it out, but the wood that had been burning stung her feet as well. She could hear Pippin complaining about the ash, and Merry moving away from her. As the light flickered and died, a loud screech filled the night. Running to to the edge of the ledge again, Frodo cried out.
Five ring wraiths approached through the thick fog. Frodo grasped her sword and turned to the others.
"Go!"
Not needing to be told twice, the four hobbits took off running up the stairs. The night was quiet, enabling them to hear any intruders. Sam, Merry, and Pippin had all gathered around Frodo, ready to protect her if need be. They all had their swords out, Frodo facing one way while the others faced another.
The fog drifted in, reaching much higher than it should have. Frodo stared at the steps as a shadowy figure came forward. Choked by her fear, she backed up, eyes fixed on the wraith. Merry and Sam looked at her questioningly as she stepped backwards past them, eyes wide with terror. They also turned to see the wraiths emerging, five of them all together. Each held a jagged edged sword in their armor-clad hands.
They continued to advance, as four terrified hobbits looked up at them. THen, with a sudden burst of heroism, Sam leapt forward, determined to protect Frodo.
"Back, you devils!"
The seemingly leader of the group swatted him aside easily, and continued to advance. Merry and Pippin moved close together in front of Frodo, trying to be brave, but were simply thrown aside.
All five of the wraiths concentrated on Frodo, who stood there shaking. The sword fell from her hands uselessly as she backed up. She was barely aware of the dull clank the sword made when it hit the ground below her.
The tiny holes in the ground that had filled with rainwater were easily seen, yet the one that caught the back of her foot managed to evade her vision. She hit the ground, sending a sharp pain through her back, but she hardly noticed. Her eyes were locked on the ring wraiths.
Then, as if it had never been there, here fear vanished. Instead, she was overwhelmed by a strong need to wear the One Ring.
Despite the fact that five ring wraiths stood before her, she pulled the ring from her pocket and looked at it.
It was as if she had pulled out a bright light, for everyone turned to look at it. Eyes widening in horror, Frodo backed away, still to weary to get up. When the corner of a stair slamed into her back, she was forced to look up at one of the Nazgul, who had followed her.
He drew his sword, which Frodo thought he had already taken out, and pulled it back. She tried to speak, but ll that came out was a choked sob. In a last move of desperation, she put the ring on her finger, hoping to escape her foes.
The world around her became bright and blurry. In place of the five wraiths, were now old men. Each man wore a crown, with sunken eyes and bony features. The one closest to her reached for the ring, and as if being commanded by some unknown force, her hand began to rise.
When his fingers were mere inches from the ring, Frod pulled it back to her with a cry, holding her hand to her chest. Taken aback by her sudden action, the wraith withdrew his hand, then plunged his blade deep into her left shoulder.
The pain she felt was almost to great to imagine. It was as if someone had started a fire inside of her shoulder, then let it burn through her veins. She let forth a scream of pure agony, that was to be stopped only by short of breath. White hot flashes of pain exploded in her mind. Her entire body tensed and arched to the pain.
Then, like an angel of mercy, Strider appeared, swinging a sword and a torch in either hand. The blade was pulled from her shoulder as her savior in black fended off her attackers. She was barely conscious now, feeling the great fiery pain spreading through her body. It took great effort for her to pull the ring from her finger.
The sudden movement made her scream again as the shapes jarred back normal.
"Frodo!" Sam cried.
Sam ran to her in panic, stroking her hair to try and sooth her.
"Oh, Sam..." She whimpered.
It was hard enough for her to breath, let alone speak aloud. She offered a faint smile to him as Merry and Pippin came over as well.
The screeching of the wring wraiths as well as the clanking of blade against blade could be heard.
Frodo cried out again suddenly, as her vision blurred. The fire in her viens suddenly turned to ice and twisted inside of her, rendering her speechless. She could only make small noises now, as the world around her began to grow dark.
She vaguely heard Sam cry out for Strider as the Wraiths retreated.
"Help her Strider!" Sam cried.
The shapes began to move together then break apart, changing from what she normally saw to what she saw when she put on the ring. She was missing the words spoken by Sam and Strider, but she was aware of their presence.
Strider picked her up, cradling her in his arms delicately so as not to hurt her more. When he had gone to look around, he had never expected something like this would happen.
"But we're six days from Rivendell!" Sam's anguished voice broke into his thoughts. "She'll never make it!"
That was not an option for Strider. She HAD to make it. He wouldn't let her die. He was supposed to protect her. She had trusted him, though he had terrified her at first. While he had thought she was fooling around, knowing not the importance of the ring she carried, he learned that she did indeed know, and was wise beyond her years.
He wouldn't let her die like this. She was only a child. It shouldn't have been her burden. but fate worked in mysterious ways.
"Gandalf...." Frodo whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Hold on Frodo," Strider whispered, trying to comfort her.
She was whimpering and crying, her hair matted to her head by sweat. Her eyes were shut tightly, and the ring was still clutched in her left hand, even as she held her shoulder.
"Gandalf!" She cried loudly, before drifting off into an unconscious state.
*****
Wow... I typed like crazy to get this out.. ::yawns:: I hope my readers are happy. This is a longer chapter than the last, but not by much -_-
Hey, I have stuff to do too. Like Homework and Work.. and ::yawns:: sleep... so R/R!
Luv Mithril C.o.L.
Aragorn's Luver, Arwen Elessar ^_~
SSJ_Sky@hotmail.com
ssjSky59
(*^_^*): R/R! The pigtailed girl has spoken! OBEY!! ::the pigtailed girl falls asleep typing::
(*-_-*)
