The days wore on, and still Frodo did not improve. Aragorn had known he
would not, but the other hobbits did not understand. At least, Merry and
Pippin did not. Aragorn was willing to bet that Sam did. The hobbit was
constantly casting worried glances at his master, going out of his way to
assist him whenever possible.
Aragorn furrowed his brow as he Frodo moaned and slouched in the saddle, breathing heavily. He swiftly strode closer to the pony, supporting Frodo as he swayed.
"You must keep on, little one," Strider crooned softly, wiping the hobbit's brow with his sleeve.
Frodo glanced up weakly, his eyes glazed over.
Suddenly, the sound of galloping horses' hooves broke the silence of the woods about them. Hand at the hilt of his sward, Aragorn rushed forward to greet the intruder of their peace, whether it be friend- or foe.
Then, out of the trees from another path, a pure white horse appeared, and atop it, a tall, blonde elf.
"Glorfindel!" cried the Ranger despite himself. He laughed loudly. The hobbits gazed up, wide-eyed, both surprised at the stranger, looking amazing in his pure-white clothing atop his stunning mount, and at their leader, the rugged Ranger, laughing aloud and rushing forward to greet him. "I was sent to find you," the stranger-elf said, eyes glistening.
"You have come just in time," Strider replied gravely, the merry twinkle in his eyes suddenly going out. "A member of our party has become ill- the Ring-bearer Frodo Baggins. He has been stabbed by a Morgul blade."
The stranger became suddenly serious.
"We must get him to Rivendell immediately," he said.
"Yes," agreed the Ranger, "and here- I have saved the hilt."
At this the Ranger drew the hilt of the knife, and handed it to the elf.
Glorfindel's eyes grew dark.
"Evil things are written on this," said he, "though they may not be visible to you. Touch it as little as possible, but save it until we reach Rivendell! It may be of help to Elrond in healing him."
Strider nodded and re-sheathed the sward.
Aragorn furrowed his brow as he Frodo moaned and slouched in the saddle, breathing heavily. He swiftly strode closer to the pony, supporting Frodo as he swayed.
"You must keep on, little one," Strider crooned softly, wiping the hobbit's brow with his sleeve.
Frodo glanced up weakly, his eyes glazed over.
Suddenly, the sound of galloping horses' hooves broke the silence of the woods about them. Hand at the hilt of his sward, Aragorn rushed forward to greet the intruder of their peace, whether it be friend- or foe.
Then, out of the trees from another path, a pure white horse appeared, and atop it, a tall, blonde elf.
"Glorfindel!" cried the Ranger despite himself. He laughed loudly. The hobbits gazed up, wide-eyed, both surprised at the stranger, looking amazing in his pure-white clothing atop his stunning mount, and at their leader, the rugged Ranger, laughing aloud and rushing forward to greet him. "I was sent to find you," the stranger-elf said, eyes glistening.
"You have come just in time," Strider replied gravely, the merry twinkle in his eyes suddenly going out. "A member of our party has become ill- the Ring-bearer Frodo Baggins. He has been stabbed by a Morgul blade."
The stranger became suddenly serious.
"We must get him to Rivendell immediately," he said.
"Yes," agreed the Ranger, "and here- I have saved the hilt."
At this the Ranger drew the hilt of the knife, and handed it to the elf.
Glorfindel's eyes grew dark.
"Evil things are written on this," said he, "though they may not be visible to you. Touch it as little as possible, but save it until we reach Rivendell! It may be of help to Elrond in healing him."
Strider nodded and re-sheathed the sward.