Ch. 35
Frodo sat next to Sam, having just wandered in. In his shock at hearing that Sam was dead, he'd left Bag-End, no destination in mind. While out, he'd sat under a tree. The tree was the one he'd been reading under when Gandalf returned to the Shire for Bilbo's eventful eleventy-first birthday. Long ago, he'd claimed it as HIS tree.
Upon returning, Merry informed him of Sam being alive. In his filthy, torn clothes, he somehow managed his way over to Sam, where he'd been for the past half hour. He arrived shortly after Pippin's speech.
Pippin walked over to Frodo. Noticing the state of his friend, he asked, "What happened to you?"
"Uh?" Frodo was functioning so slowly that nothing seemed to register.
Pippin was the first to notice the blood- if that's what it was. It was the location that brought fear into his heart. Eyes widening, he quickly yelled for anyone and everyone to come over. "Help! Rosie, Aragorn, Arwen, Galadriel!"
Everyone capable came running.
Elrond, Arwen, and Aragorn were in unison when the said, "Ai, Elbereth."
"What is it, Pipp. . ." Gandalf began exasperatedly, but he stopped breathing for several moments, in which everyone gathered.
Merry and Bilbo were the only others who knew the significance of this wound. Everyone else, however, could sense the awful feeling that spread amongst the crowd.
"I thought you. . ." began Arwen, staring at her father, avoiding looking at the green that was oozing over Frodo's shirt.
"No," said Elrond, shaking his head. "It couldn't."
Legolas exchanged thoughts with Arwen, and Tarien was relayed the information from her husband.
Pippin felt an invading presence in his mind. Galadriel was trying to find the information about this particular reopening cut.
"What is it?" asked Gimli, impatience taking over.
Everyone turned to face him.
Gandalf spoke first. "The Nazgul."
Frodo sat next to Sam, having just wandered in. In his shock at hearing that Sam was dead, he'd left Bag-End, no destination in mind. While out, he'd sat under a tree. The tree was the one he'd been reading under when Gandalf returned to the Shire for Bilbo's eventful eleventy-first birthday. Long ago, he'd claimed it as HIS tree.
Upon returning, Merry informed him of Sam being alive. In his filthy, torn clothes, he somehow managed his way over to Sam, where he'd been for the past half hour. He arrived shortly after Pippin's speech.
Pippin walked over to Frodo. Noticing the state of his friend, he asked, "What happened to you?"
"Uh?" Frodo was functioning so slowly that nothing seemed to register.
Pippin was the first to notice the blood- if that's what it was. It was the location that brought fear into his heart. Eyes widening, he quickly yelled for anyone and everyone to come over. "Help! Rosie, Aragorn, Arwen, Galadriel!"
Everyone capable came running.
Elrond, Arwen, and Aragorn were in unison when the said, "Ai, Elbereth."
"What is it, Pipp. . ." Gandalf began exasperatedly, but he stopped breathing for several moments, in which everyone gathered.
Merry and Bilbo were the only others who knew the significance of this wound. Everyone else, however, could sense the awful feeling that spread amongst the crowd.
"I thought you. . ." began Arwen, staring at her father, avoiding looking at the green that was oozing over Frodo's shirt.
"No," said Elrond, shaking his head. "It couldn't."
Legolas exchanged thoughts with Arwen, and Tarien was relayed the information from her husband.
Pippin felt an invading presence in his mind. Galadriel was trying to find the information about this particular reopening cut.
"What is it?" asked Gimli, impatience taking over.
Everyone turned to face him.
Gandalf spoke first. "The Nazgul."
