OK, here it is, the second chapter! I know that I re-ordered the way things
happened at Weathertop just a little, but I tried to stay as close to the
original way of things that I could. I hope that I am doing justice to
Tolkien's work; I am a huge fan. Speaking of that, I guess I should add
another disclaimer, even though I already had one at the beginning of the
fic…*Disclaimer* I don't own anything affiliated with Lord of the Rings.
There. Now that that's all done and over with, enjoy the story!
Frodo had barely heard that which had been said; he was feeling very close to again losing consciousness, and his eyes were beginning to roll back.
Sam came over to him now with the hot water with the plant in it, and Frodo could smell that the fragrance was fresh and sweet, and made him feel just a little stronger. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
Sam carefully unbuttoned the top of Frodo's shirt, pulling it to the side. He then dipped the cloth in the steaming water and applied it to the wound.
Frodo sucked in a sharp breath, his back arching, then quickly relaxed. After the initial shock of the pressure against the lesion, the pain seemed to lessen, and he felt less cold.
Sam continued to gently dab the cut with the hot, sweet-smelling water, and Frodo relaxed more and more.
"It seems to be doing something," Merry commented.
Sam nodded.
"Do you feel any better, Mr. Frodo?" he asked.
Frodo opened his eyes.
"Yes, I do," he said, somewhat surprised to even hear himself say so.
Just then, Strider returned.
"You look better, Frodo," he commented with a smile.
"It's your herbs," Frodo replied, "They make me feel stronger, and not so cold."
"That is good," said Aragorn. "Rest now; you shall be needing it."
"What is that?" Pippin asked, gesturing to the folded brown cloth that Strider had brought back with him.
"I believe it is the cloak of the Ringwraith," said Aragorn. "See the slash here, near the bottom? That is where Frodo struck him, I believe."
"You struck a Ringwraith?" Pippin asked in surprise.
Frodo gave a slight smile.
"Yes," he said. "But it didn't seem to do anything."
"No," said Strider, "More deadly to him was the name of Elberenth. But no more talk now, or any questions about how I know of what happened! Frodo must rest; and we should also as well. We have a long journey ahead of us."
If you got down this far, that means that you probably read my story. If so, then hit that long little button on the left hand side down there and review it! Unless you're a writer too, you don't understand how good it feels to have someone review your work. Even if you didn't like it, I want to know! Constructive criticism and even flames are welcome. Of course, nice reviews are always welcome too… ( Thanks to all of those who have reviewed so far! Does anyone want to hear more of this story? If there is any interest, I will continue.
Frodo had barely heard that which had been said; he was feeling very close to again losing consciousness, and his eyes were beginning to roll back.
Sam came over to him now with the hot water with the plant in it, and Frodo could smell that the fragrance was fresh and sweet, and made him feel just a little stronger. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
Sam carefully unbuttoned the top of Frodo's shirt, pulling it to the side. He then dipped the cloth in the steaming water and applied it to the wound.
Frodo sucked in a sharp breath, his back arching, then quickly relaxed. After the initial shock of the pressure against the lesion, the pain seemed to lessen, and he felt less cold.
Sam continued to gently dab the cut with the hot, sweet-smelling water, and Frodo relaxed more and more.
"It seems to be doing something," Merry commented.
Sam nodded.
"Do you feel any better, Mr. Frodo?" he asked.
Frodo opened his eyes.
"Yes, I do," he said, somewhat surprised to even hear himself say so.
Just then, Strider returned.
"You look better, Frodo," he commented with a smile.
"It's your herbs," Frodo replied, "They make me feel stronger, and not so cold."
"That is good," said Aragorn. "Rest now; you shall be needing it."
"What is that?" Pippin asked, gesturing to the folded brown cloth that Strider had brought back with him.
"I believe it is the cloak of the Ringwraith," said Aragorn. "See the slash here, near the bottom? That is where Frodo struck him, I believe."
"You struck a Ringwraith?" Pippin asked in surprise.
Frodo gave a slight smile.
"Yes," he said. "But it didn't seem to do anything."
"No," said Strider, "More deadly to him was the name of Elberenth. But no more talk now, or any questions about how I know of what happened! Frodo must rest; and we should also as well. We have a long journey ahead of us."
If you got down this far, that means that you probably read my story. If so, then hit that long little button on the left hand side down there and review it! Unless you're a writer too, you don't understand how good it feels to have someone review your work. Even if you didn't like it, I want to know! Constructive criticism and even flames are welcome. Of course, nice reviews are always welcome too… ( Thanks to all of those who have reviewed so far! Does anyone want to hear more of this story? If there is any interest, I will continue.