The Journey Alone: Chapter 12
May 19-21, 3002 (T.A.) 1402 (S.R.)
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Back in the Shire, days earlier, Gaffer Gamgee was surprised to hear a knock at his door. He shuffled over to the round door of his hole and squinted at the knocker. He couldn't quite make out who it was through his failing vision, but he could tell it was one of the "Big Folk."
"Yes? How may I help you?" he asked politely, even as an unexplainable shudder went through him.
"Where is Baggins?" a hissing voice asked.
"Baggins? He's disappeared, along with his wife Pearl and my son. No doubt he's off on an adventure just like Old Bilbo, bless him," the Gaffer said.
"Baggins has a wife?" the voice said.
"Yes, he does. Been married since last autumn. Nice lady hobbit, Pearl is. How do you know him? And why didn't you just go up to Bag End?" the Gaffer asked, getting suspicious. But the cloaked figure disappeared.
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Pearl's POV
When we met Strider later that night, I was agreeing more with Sam than with Frodo. Strider seemed to be like all the highwaymen in stories, and I didn't want to trust him. Something seemed to be not what it looked like with him. I did not think that being a Ranger and rugged like he appeared to be was his natural tendency. I was quite right, but I didn't know at the time that he was really the rightful king of Gondor. In the Shire, "until the king comes back" was a common enough saying, but I didn't quite believe that it would come to pass, at least in my lifetime.
After the horrific night of terror, listening to the Black Riders scream and Strider's explanation, the nature of the hooded creatures was a little bit clearer in my mind, but still vague. Until I heard the full story, I was still not quite sure what to make of them. Of course, I was completely terrified of them, and wished to have no further experience of them. They struck a fear within me that I didn't know I had. The seemed so intrinsically evil that it was impossible not to be scared of them.
So we found ourselves travelling in the Wild, with no idea where we were or really where our destination was with a complete stranger. Not the best of situations at all. Frodo continued to doggedly trust him, and Pippin and Merry, young innocents that they were, trusted Frodo and so trusted Strider. I tended to be a bit more wary, even if I was a born Took and married to Frodo Baggins, the relative of the infamous Bilbo Baggins. Strider never did anything that was out rightly evil or bad, but I guess it was just his appearance and demeanor that made me untrusting.
Somehow it did not surprise me that he had never heard of second breakfast.
After a couple days of travelling, we were finally in sight of Weathertop, or Amon Sul, as Strider called it. It seemed to be infinitely old, and somehow sad and noble, as it stood in the desolate area, alone as it had once been conquered and abandoned. It was a depressing place, especially since we had arrived there when it was cloudy and verging on night.
Finally, we made it to a suitable camping place at Weathertop and shrugged off our heavy packs. To my surprise, as well as the other hobbits, Strider tossed daggers to us. At least, they were daggers for Strider. For us hobbits, they were swords. I was even more surprised when Strider handed one to me, a lady hobbit. I raised my eyebrow, and looked at Strider, puzzled.
"Yes, Pearl, you will need a sword too. If you should become separated from the rest of us, or the others are incapable of defending you, you will need a way to protect yourself," he said. The look on Frodo's face was murderous.
"Why would Pearl need to defend herself? We have you, Strider. I would imagine that you are a more than capable warrior," Frodo said, obviously concerned at the thought of a lady hobbit needing to defend herself.
"It is best to be prepared," Strider said. "I am going to look around and see what I can found out about the movements of the Nazgul." And then he was gone.
Eventually, I ended up asleep. The constant walking had tired me out, and I could have slept anywhere, I was so tired. Apparently, Frodo thought the same thing because I felt him lay down next to me while I was still half asleep. I woke up to Frodo yelling at the other hobbits.
"What are you doing?!" he screamed at them.
"We made some nice crispy bacon and tomatoes," Pippin said, unfazed by Frodo's tone.
"We saved you some, Mr. Frodo," Sam said.
'Put it out you fools! Put it out!" Frodo said frantically, stomping on the low fire. Suddenly, we heard the chilling but familiar screech of the Black Riders. We froze and the other hobbits realized what they had done. Quickly, they gathered up the remaining food and put out the fire.
"Run!" Someone yelled. We drew out swords and ran up the slope of Weathertop to the peak of the former watchtower. We made a circle with our backs facing each other and kept our eyes peeled for the Black Riders. Suddenly, Frodo backed up into me, his eyes focused on an emerging cloaked figure, his sword drawn and ready for attack. Sam and Merry and Pippin moved in front of Frodo and me, the fear evident in their eyes.
The Black Rider threw Sam to the side, and he landed painfully, with his head bashing against the stone. Merry and Pippin slunk together, and briefly fought the Black Rider, but they, too, were knocked aside. When the Black Rider reached me, I desperately tried to stab at the cloak, but not knowing at all how to use the sword, I was helpless defending myself. However, the Black Rider seemed to regard my attempts at attacking it to be a distraction. Suddenly, I fell on the ground and everything felt cold. I blacked out.
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Frodo's POV
"Pearl!" I watched in horror as my wife fell to the ground and fell unconscious. Once she was out, the Black Rider turned to me. I, too, fell to the ground. My terror was swallowed up in a sudden urge to put on the Ring. I drew out the Ring and looked at It. I knew that Gandalf and Gildor had told me not to put it on, but I wanted to disregard all their warnings and satisfy the urge to put it on. Slowly, I put the Ring on my finger.
Immediately, the world around me was transformed into a fuzzy haze. Before me, the Nazgul were glowing white, ethereal, and altogether evil. One of them, obviously the leader, drew closer and unsheathed his sword. Horrified, I realized what was about to happen a split second before it did. The blade pierced my shoulder, and it was enveloped in agony. I cried out and the blade was pulled out just as swiftly as it came in.
Realizing what I must do, I pulled the Ring off my finger and lay back, trying to control my screams. Sam, Merry and Pippin rushed to my side a soon as I reappeared. They seemed at a loss for what to do, but they tried to comfort me as best as they were able. I barely noticed Strider leaping out with a yell, wielding his sword and a flaming branch. He successfully drove the Black Riders away, and ran to my side.
"What happened?' Sam asked, frantic because he was unable to help his master.
"His shoulder was pierced by a Morgul blade. We can do nothing for him here. We must go to Rivendell," Strider said. He started to pick me up, but I stopped him.
"Pearl," I managed to choke out, "she's hurt." Strider turned and saw Pearl still motionless on the ground. He hurried to her side and turned her over gingerly. Just then, Pearl yelled out something unintelligible.
"The Black Breath," he said. "We must get some athelas, or I can do nothing." He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. "Get Frodo on the pony. I cannot carry them both. But watch to make sure he does not fall off," Aragorn said.
As Aragorn began walking, my pain grew, and my shoulder became more numb and cold. I could not prevent myself from screaming any longer, and I whimpered and groaned whenever Strider unintentionally jarred me. Eventually, I stopped being aware of what was going on, though I was not unconscious or asleep. I was half in the wraith world, and it was frightening.
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Pearl's POV
When I woke finally, I was on my back, and I took a deep breath of the surprisingly refreshing air around me. I opened my eyes to see Strider leaning over me, and Sam, Merry, and Pippin hovering near as well. A strange but beautiful woman was also near. She was murmuring something to Aragorn, and I realized that she was an elf. I was too worn out to question anything yet, so I laid back and allowed Pippin to hold my hand.
I was not allowed to rest long because I noticed that Strider and the elf were leaning over the prone body of my husband.
"Frodo!" I yelled, concerned that he was hurt. Strider turned to me.
"Lay back Pearl. Frodo will be alright in time," he said. Not satisfied, but realizing that Strider was right, I laid back and began questioning Pippin.
"What happened to Frodo?" I asked.
"One of the Black Riders stabbed him in the shoulder," Pippin said.
"Is it bad?" I asked, my concern growing. I feared that Frodo would die or that he would be maimed for life.
"No, it was just a small wound, but something is wrong with it. Something was evil with the knife used to stab him," Pippin said.
"Will he be alright? And why is that elf here?" I asked.
"I don't know if he'll be alright. Strider says that our best chance for him is to get to Rivendell as soon as possible. The elf just showed up here. I think she knows Strider, but they've been speaking in Elvish, so I don't know what they've been staying," Pippin explained. I glanced at Frodo, and I saw that Strider had picked up Frodo's limp form and was setting him on the elf's horse.
"What are you doing? Those wraiths are still out there!" Sam yelled in frustration.
"Frodo!" I yelled. Frodo sat on the horse, still unaware of anything and looking as weak as a kitten. The elf swung onto the horse behind Frodo and wrapped her arms around him.
"Noro lim, Asfaloth!" she said, and the horse galloped away. Strider watched her leave with a sadness and fear in his eyes.
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Frodo's POV
I recall little from the long journey with Arwen to the Ford, but I vaguely remember the movement of the horse beneath me, and the urgings of Arwen to the horse.
I also remember a Black Rider right near my face, but the memory is misty somehow, as if I had been seeing it through a fog.
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Pearl's POV
Once we got to Rivendell I was completely recovered from the "Black Breath", as strider called it. I was really worried about Frodo, and I rushed into his room as soon as we got there. Frodo looked paler than normal, and he was almost completely still. I seize his hand and sat there with him for a long time.
Finally, I noticed that there was someone else in the room with us. Gandalf was sitting by the window smoking his pipe, and he had said nothing to me the whole time. He continued to calmly smoke his pipe and watch me. Finally, I got the courage to speak.
"Gandalf!" I said. "When did you get here? Why weren't you at the Prancing Pony?"
"Oh Pearl! I am sorry that I put you through that. But I was delayed. I could not come because the wizard Saruman captured me," he said. He told me the most of the story of what happened to him, and I totally forgave him for not meeting us at the Prancing Pony. "You will be invited to attend Elrond's council after Frodo is completely recovered," he said.
"When will Frodo be better?" I asked. Just then, I felt Frodo's hand move.
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TBC
