Thanks to everyone who reviewed! This chapter is dedicated to you guys! Oh,
btw, I wanted to say, I've decided that I'm going to hide fun stuff in each
of my stories. There is a reference to a musical in each chapter of all my
stories. Bonus points to anyone who names the musical in a review! I swear,
it isn't a gimmick to get you to review, I just love musicals!
Btw, I really would love a live journal, but I have no money. If anyone would be kind enough to help. Thank you! Enjoy this chapter!
I've thrown in a new element to my story. Irony. Try and find it.
Chapter 2
"I've waited long enough. Word travels fast, and there are words that a halfling carries a great treasure. And I want it."
The stranger paused to let his words sink in, as he knew they would. He could tell from the pained expressions on all of their faces that they would trade any treasure for the injured one. This plan couldn't fail. It had been so easy to track them from Weathertop. They were taking enough of a slow pace with the sick one. Even now, the halfling sat, staring up into space, never seeing, just sitting with this glazed look of pain. The stranger almost felt pity for the little one, it seemed he was not faring well. All he had was a flesh wound at his shoulder. Why would a small stab wound cause some much pain? But, he remembered his duty. He was happy this one had been injured; it had made his job so simple, except for the screaming. The Halfling had screamed louder and more gut wrenching then any injured soldier had ever. He had screamed so loud and long, the man's ears still rung. And almost as bad was the fat halfling, who had fought until the stranger had had to knock him with his sword. Still, the weakened state of his prisoner made his task simple. If he ever met who wounded the halfling, he'd kiss him.
"So, which is it? Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to figure it out on my own?"
Aragorn was almost feeling the same as the stranger. Frodo looked worse than when he had left. He was pale, and his left shoulder was saturated with blood. He could see the dark splotches in the firelight. Frodo didn't need this. Aragorn would have to think quickly. This man would obviously not be swayed unless he had the Ring. But, the man had never seen the Ring, he hadn't even called it the Ring, he had called it a treasure. Did Sam or Pippin have anything that could pass as very expensive? Aragorn had one option for the moment.
Bargaining.
"We carry nothing. I think you must be mistaken. Word travels fast, but rumors are often not true."
The stranger sneered. As Aragorn had thought, the man would not be swayed easy. Not without fighting.
"You hesitated. If you carried nothing, why would you wait so long to answer?"
Aragorn had to admit he was caught. He had hoped the man would be less intelligent than he appeared, but he now knew any hope of a dumb, gold- hungry attacker was gone.
"I'm not stupid. I've been in this business my whole life." The stranger paused to smile cruelly at Aragorn, before continuing. "I got a lot of what it takes to get along. Except for money. Now am I gonna have to start cutting him to get you to talk?"
Sam made a choking noise and grabbed on to Pippin, who had blanched, and was a pale white.
"There's no need for threat, we will make a deal. However, you harm that Halfling and you will never live to see a drop of his blood spilt," Aragorn growled through gritted teeth.
The man snorted at Aragorn's empty threat.
"You think you scare me? You got a lot of nerve if you think I wont hurt him. See, watch this." The man raised his sword, and held it over Frodo's right arm. Aragorn immediately drew his sword, but the man shook his head.
"Attack me and I'll slice his throat," the stranger said, barely over a whisper. Sam paled even further, and shook with rage, trying to hold himself back. Aragorn could see Sam was thinking. And then a thought struck him. What if Sam sacrificed himself for his master? What if Sam said he carried the treasure? He would have no way of warning Sam not to say anything without it appearing that Sam had the Ring.
"What's going on here? Don't think I'm not watching you, eh? Well, I've had enough of this. Which halfling carries the treasure?" the man shouted with frustration. He would have no more of this! He pinpointed a location below the Halfling's shoulder, and lowered his sword into the arm, and brought it up again.
Frodo let out a sharp intake of breath, his eyes flickered, and he came back to awareness. A pool of dark color appeared on his arm.
This time Sam could not control himself. He jumped up on his feet, stood tall, as tall as a Hobbit could, and shouted at the man.
"Hey! There's no need for that! You stop hurtin' my master!"
The stranger turned towards Sam.
"Your Master? Well, we wouldn't want to hurt your master. Which two of you carries that treasure?"
Aragorn glared at Sam. He tried motioning to Sam not to say anything. But, Sam was in his own little world now.
Sam gave one last determined look at his pale master, who was looking up at the sword above his arm with a terrified expression. Then he looked up at the man who held his master life in his hands.
"I carry it. I carry the treasure."
Btw, I really would love a live journal, but I have no money. If anyone would be kind enough to help. Thank you! Enjoy this chapter!
I've thrown in a new element to my story. Irony. Try and find it.
Chapter 2
"I've waited long enough. Word travels fast, and there are words that a halfling carries a great treasure. And I want it."
The stranger paused to let his words sink in, as he knew they would. He could tell from the pained expressions on all of their faces that they would trade any treasure for the injured one. This plan couldn't fail. It had been so easy to track them from Weathertop. They were taking enough of a slow pace with the sick one. Even now, the halfling sat, staring up into space, never seeing, just sitting with this glazed look of pain. The stranger almost felt pity for the little one, it seemed he was not faring well. All he had was a flesh wound at his shoulder. Why would a small stab wound cause some much pain? But, he remembered his duty. He was happy this one had been injured; it had made his job so simple, except for the screaming. The Halfling had screamed louder and more gut wrenching then any injured soldier had ever. He had screamed so loud and long, the man's ears still rung. And almost as bad was the fat halfling, who had fought until the stranger had had to knock him with his sword. Still, the weakened state of his prisoner made his task simple. If he ever met who wounded the halfling, he'd kiss him.
"So, which is it? Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to figure it out on my own?"
Aragorn was almost feeling the same as the stranger. Frodo looked worse than when he had left. He was pale, and his left shoulder was saturated with blood. He could see the dark splotches in the firelight. Frodo didn't need this. Aragorn would have to think quickly. This man would obviously not be swayed unless he had the Ring. But, the man had never seen the Ring, he hadn't even called it the Ring, he had called it a treasure. Did Sam or Pippin have anything that could pass as very expensive? Aragorn had one option for the moment.
Bargaining.
"We carry nothing. I think you must be mistaken. Word travels fast, but rumors are often not true."
The stranger sneered. As Aragorn had thought, the man would not be swayed easy. Not without fighting.
"You hesitated. If you carried nothing, why would you wait so long to answer?"
Aragorn had to admit he was caught. He had hoped the man would be less intelligent than he appeared, but he now knew any hope of a dumb, gold- hungry attacker was gone.
"I'm not stupid. I've been in this business my whole life." The stranger paused to smile cruelly at Aragorn, before continuing. "I got a lot of what it takes to get along. Except for money. Now am I gonna have to start cutting him to get you to talk?"
Sam made a choking noise and grabbed on to Pippin, who had blanched, and was a pale white.
"There's no need for threat, we will make a deal. However, you harm that Halfling and you will never live to see a drop of his blood spilt," Aragorn growled through gritted teeth.
The man snorted at Aragorn's empty threat.
"You think you scare me? You got a lot of nerve if you think I wont hurt him. See, watch this." The man raised his sword, and held it over Frodo's right arm. Aragorn immediately drew his sword, but the man shook his head.
"Attack me and I'll slice his throat," the stranger said, barely over a whisper. Sam paled even further, and shook with rage, trying to hold himself back. Aragorn could see Sam was thinking. And then a thought struck him. What if Sam sacrificed himself for his master? What if Sam said he carried the treasure? He would have no way of warning Sam not to say anything without it appearing that Sam had the Ring.
"What's going on here? Don't think I'm not watching you, eh? Well, I've had enough of this. Which halfling carries the treasure?" the man shouted with frustration. He would have no more of this! He pinpointed a location below the Halfling's shoulder, and lowered his sword into the arm, and brought it up again.
Frodo let out a sharp intake of breath, his eyes flickered, and he came back to awareness. A pool of dark color appeared on his arm.
This time Sam could not control himself. He jumped up on his feet, stood tall, as tall as a Hobbit could, and shouted at the man.
"Hey! There's no need for that! You stop hurtin' my master!"
The stranger turned towards Sam.
"Your Master? Well, we wouldn't want to hurt your master. Which two of you carries that treasure?"
Aragorn glared at Sam. He tried motioning to Sam not to say anything. But, Sam was in his own little world now.
Sam gave one last determined look at his pale master, who was looking up at the sword above his arm with a terrified expression. Then he looked up at the man who held his master life in his hands.
"I carry it. I carry the treasure."
