DISCLAIMER: I own nothing to this date
Okay, just to get on with the story, I promise promise promise that the hobbits will be at Rivendell by the next chapter, so everyone just hang in there! I will explain everything when they get there—
Except me and my family are going on vacation next week so I won't be updating for a while, sorry ya'll!
:: The Dim Star on Weathertop::
"We do not stop until nightfall," the ranger told the hobbits when they had begun to unpack.
"What about breakfast?" Pippin asked.
Strider frowned, confused, "You already had it."
The hobbit nodded, "We've had one, yes, but what about second breakfast?"
I continued to help Frodo and Sam re-saddle Bill, the pony. My eyes continuously darted behind us and above to the skies; I was not liable to think that the Nazgul wouldn't be on our tail. No, the sinking feeling in my heart made sure of that.
The Nazgul were coming.
------
The hobbits plopped wearily onto the ground under an outcropping connected to Weathertop. Fog curled around earth below us and crickets chirped cautiously. Strider tossed a heavy bundle in our direction which clattered to the ground and several swords fell out onto the ground.
"These are for you," the ranger said, "I'm going to take a look around . . ."
The hobbits eyed the weapons in awe. Not only had they never handled a sword before, but they had rarely ever seen any weapons for that matter. Merry and Pippin had unsheathed theirs and swung them around for practice.
Strider strapped his own sword to his belt and headed back down the path towards the ground.
"You don't think we'll need these, do you?" Pippin asked warily.
"Don't be sure, Pip," Merry said while tossing his weapon next to his cloak, "You can never be too sure out here in the wild."
I noticed the hobbit pale slightly and forced a small smile. I reluctantly picked up one of the longer swords and swung it around a bit before heading towards the stair-like path heading up to the top of the hill.
"I'm going to take first watch up here," I told them as I headed up the path.
The wind whipped at my cloak as I reached the peak of Weathertop. The ancient runes that once shielded men as a fortress lay in crumbled stone. Weeds began to sprout between pillars and dirt had replaced the stone floor. As I stared up at the sky, clouds had begun to block out the full moon that should have lit up the bleak night.
I made my way towards one of the fallen pillars and wrapped my cloak tighter around my shoulders. I stared in disgust at the sword in my hand and threw it on the ground. Even as I stared at it, I could almost see the blood staining the steel metal.
The chilling feeling raced down my spine as I stared at the black abyss below. Mist curled around the base of Weathertop and hung in the air around me.
There was still the undying feeling that the Nazgul were somewhere out there; waiting for us to slip up in some way or another. I could almost see their jet black cloaks swirling around me; their hooded eyes staring at me with intolerable fury.
I shivered now. Oh, gods, I silently prayed, don't let them come here; don't let them find us! I could nearly feel their darkness swirling around my feet; waiting until they showed themselves to strike.
I stood and walked carefully out towards the edge of the fortress.
Nothing. That's what it was: nothing. There was nothing to be frightened of, because there was nothing there.
The wind had picked up again and the clouds above began to shift. I looked up and smiled sadly for there, faded by the night and mist, was a dime star lighting up the bleak darkness around me.
But something else picked up in the wind . . .
Smoke.
My eyes darted around frantically. There, below the staircase, a billow of gray cloud drifted into the sky, and with it, the sound of several voices.
Horrified, I raced back down the path towards my companions. I cam as Frodo was stomping out the flames frantically.
"Put it out you fools!" he cried, "Put it out--!"
But already—across the plains—the unearthly cry of the Nazgul raced to meet us.
We stood there frozen for but a moment before we all dashed up to the top of Weathertop. The place was as I had left it, all save for the fact that the five of us were racing towards the center.
Almost automatically, we surrounded Frodo in a protective circle and the four hobbits drew their swords.
Fear crawled through our flesh as the night began to darken. The earth itself had grown silent, but the beating of our hearts could not be tamed.
The Nazgul were here . . .
There were coming.
Then, nine shadows; nine reapers of the dead crept forth from within the shadows. Nine swords were drawn, and nine deathless warriors prepared for slaughter.
My knees locked and my breath was trapped within me. I could not move, nor could I feel a single ounce of warmth in my skin. It was as if the Nazgul had drawn out any sense within me; as if their very presence made me vulnerable.
I watched helplessly as the Nazgul approached us; their heavy metal boots digging into the earth. The hobbits around me shivered in fear.
The Riders grew steadily closer, first reaching Merry and Pippin. As if they were no threat, the Nazgul shoved them roughly aside, causing the two hobbits to strike their head against the stones along the ground.
Sam now brandished his sword before the demons.
"Back you beasts!" he cried furiously trying to build up his courage.
But he too was no opponent for the Riders and was thrown across the ground. Now it was Frodo and I that stood in the way of the Ring Wraiths.
My wits came back to me and almost immediately, I jumped in front of Frodo and held out my arms protectively.
"You will not harm him!" I told the beasts so fiercely that it surprised me, "You'll have to go through me first--!"
Suddenly, a cold, iron fist clasped around my throat and lifted me into the air. I was then robbed of air and was staring into the black face of the Nazgul, but from within, its ragged breath rattled around me.
"It would be my pleasure!"
The Nazgul's grip tightened around my neck; crushing my throat. I could feel the bones straining to stay together even as the iron glove clenched harder. I gasped for air and weakly raised my hand in front of his face.
"You will not harm him!" I gasped.
The Nazgul screeched in pain as Narulin blinded the Black Riders. Its grip loosened and I fell to the ground—
But the pain did not end there.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced quickly enough to just be able to see Frodo disappear into the world of the Ring Wraiths. I gasped for air as the horrible thumping in my chest started up again. The Nazgul had now turned their attention back to the hobbit as the arteries throughout my flesh pumped mercilessly. My head throbbed with pain and I clutched it painfully. Gods, make it stop!
One of the Riders was reaching out to the spot where Frodo had been. Was he still there?
Suddenly, the Nazgul drew back and took his sword in his hand. The Rider stabbed it through the air and even though I couldn't see him, Frodo's cry of pain sent my heart wrenching.
With my vision blurred, I stumbled blindly towards the hobbit. But one of the Black Riders stepped in front of me and kicked me to the ground. Their iron boot was shoved into my chest; forcing me to the earth.
Then, from above, I was able to make out a flaming torch and a man's cry. The glint of a sword flashed before my eyes as the Nazgul began to scatter around me. I caught a glimpse of Strider's cloak billowing behind his blurry figure.
Now freed, I dashed once more to the unseen hobbit's side. While the ranger battled on; I tended to Frodo's aid.
I could hear him wailing but the ring was still on his finger. I grappled for his shoulder or any part of him that I might have comforted.
"Frodo!" I gasped, "Frodo, please! Take off the Ring!" I could feel him moving to take it off, but his body was shaking so violently, it made it almost impossible to remove it.
Sam had now regained consciousness and sat on the other side of the hobbit.
"Come on, Mr. Frodo!" he urged.
Finally, the hobbit was able to remove the wretched ring and he reappeared before out eyes. The wound on his left shoulder was deep and the flesh beneath was tainted a hideous green. Frodo's complexion had turned drastically white and his blue eyes had been glazed over with pain.
I turned to call to the ranger just as the final Ring Wraith dashed over the edges of Weathertop.
"Strider!" I cried.
The man turned and his face fell when he saw Frodo lying in agony on the ground. Quickly, the ranger raced to his side as Merry and Pippin began to rise from their painful slumber. I had propped the hobbit's head in m y lap.
"Can you heal him, Strider?" Sam asked desperately.
He shook his head, "This is beyond my skill to heal . . ." he lifted the hobbit onto his shoulder and began to truck down the hillside. Together, the other hobbits and I followed him, "He needs elfish medicine!" he yelled over his shoulder.
Sam grabbed Bill's reins and followed in the rear as we raced across the plains, "But we're six days from Rivendell! He'll never make it!"
"We have to try!" I told the hobbit.
Oh, gods, we had to try . . .
-------
sorry it was so short, but I've been kinda busy lately and I probably won't update for another two weeks unless by some miracle i write a new chapter in the next two days (my family is going on vacation, so we'll be gone for a week or so) but I most definitely promise that they will be in Rivendell by the next chappie, so hang in there! Ja'ne!
Okay, just to get on with the story, I promise promise promise that the hobbits will be at Rivendell by the next chapter, so everyone just hang in there! I will explain everything when they get there—
Except me and my family are going on vacation next week so I won't be updating for a while, sorry ya'll!
:: The Dim Star on Weathertop::
"We do not stop until nightfall," the ranger told the hobbits when they had begun to unpack.
"What about breakfast?" Pippin asked.
Strider frowned, confused, "You already had it."
The hobbit nodded, "We've had one, yes, but what about second breakfast?"
I continued to help Frodo and Sam re-saddle Bill, the pony. My eyes continuously darted behind us and above to the skies; I was not liable to think that the Nazgul wouldn't be on our tail. No, the sinking feeling in my heart made sure of that.
The Nazgul were coming.
------
The hobbits plopped wearily onto the ground under an outcropping connected to Weathertop. Fog curled around earth below us and crickets chirped cautiously. Strider tossed a heavy bundle in our direction which clattered to the ground and several swords fell out onto the ground.
"These are for you," the ranger said, "I'm going to take a look around . . ."
The hobbits eyed the weapons in awe. Not only had they never handled a sword before, but they had rarely ever seen any weapons for that matter. Merry and Pippin had unsheathed theirs and swung them around for practice.
Strider strapped his own sword to his belt and headed back down the path towards the ground.
"You don't think we'll need these, do you?" Pippin asked warily.
"Don't be sure, Pip," Merry said while tossing his weapon next to his cloak, "You can never be too sure out here in the wild."
I noticed the hobbit pale slightly and forced a small smile. I reluctantly picked up one of the longer swords and swung it around a bit before heading towards the stair-like path heading up to the top of the hill.
"I'm going to take first watch up here," I told them as I headed up the path.
The wind whipped at my cloak as I reached the peak of Weathertop. The ancient runes that once shielded men as a fortress lay in crumbled stone. Weeds began to sprout between pillars and dirt had replaced the stone floor. As I stared up at the sky, clouds had begun to block out the full moon that should have lit up the bleak night.
I made my way towards one of the fallen pillars and wrapped my cloak tighter around my shoulders. I stared in disgust at the sword in my hand and threw it on the ground. Even as I stared at it, I could almost see the blood staining the steel metal.
The chilling feeling raced down my spine as I stared at the black abyss below. Mist curled around the base of Weathertop and hung in the air around me.
There was still the undying feeling that the Nazgul were somewhere out there; waiting for us to slip up in some way or another. I could almost see their jet black cloaks swirling around me; their hooded eyes staring at me with intolerable fury.
I shivered now. Oh, gods, I silently prayed, don't let them come here; don't let them find us! I could nearly feel their darkness swirling around my feet; waiting until they showed themselves to strike.
I stood and walked carefully out towards the edge of the fortress.
Nothing. That's what it was: nothing. There was nothing to be frightened of, because there was nothing there.
The wind had picked up again and the clouds above began to shift. I looked up and smiled sadly for there, faded by the night and mist, was a dime star lighting up the bleak darkness around me.
But something else picked up in the wind . . .
Smoke.
My eyes darted around frantically. There, below the staircase, a billow of gray cloud drifted into the sky, and with it, the sound of several voices.
Horrified, I raced back down the path towards my companions. I cam as Frodo was stomping out the flames frantically.
"Put it out you fools!" he cried, "Put it out--!"
But already—across the plains—the unearthly cry of the Nazgul raced to meet us.
We stood there frozen for but a moment before we all dashed up to the top of Weathertop. The place was as I had left it, all save for the fact that the five of us were racing towards the center.
Almost automatically, we surrounded Frodo in a protective circle and the four hobbits drew their swords.
Fear crawled through our flesh as the night began to darken. The earth itself had grown silent, but the beating of our hearts could not be tamed.
The Nazgul were here . . .
There were coming.
Then, nine shadows; nine reapers of the dead crept forth from within the shadows. Nine swords were drawn, and nine deathless warriors prepared for slaughter.
My knees locked and my breath was trapped within me. I could not move, nor could I feel a single ounce of warmth in my skin. It was as if the Nazgul had drawn out any sense within me; as if their very presence made me vulnerable.
I watched helplessly as the Nazgul approached us; their heavy metal boots digging into the earth. The hobbits around me shivered in fear.
The Riders grew steadily closer, first reaching Merry and Pippin. As if they were no threat, the Nazgul shoved them roughly aside, causing the two hobbits to strike their head against the stones along the ground.
Sam now brandished his sword before the demons.
"Back you beasts!" he cried furiously trying to build up his courage.
But he too was no opponent for the Riders and was thrown across the ground. Now it was Frodo and I that stood in the way of the Ring Wraiths.
My wits came back to me and almost immediately, I jumped in front of Frodo and held out my arms protectively.
"You will not harm him!" I told the beasts so fiercely that it surprised me, "You'll have to go through me first--!"
Suddenly, a cold, iron fist clasped around my throat and lifted me into the air. I was then robbed of air and was staring into the black face of the Nazgul, but from within, its ragged breath rattled around me.
"It would be my pleasure!"
The Nazgul's grip tightened around my neck; crushing my throat. I could feel the bones straining to stay together even as the iron glove clenched harder. I gasped for air and weakly raised my hand in front of his face.
"You will not harm him!" I gasped.
The Nazgul screeched in pain as Narulin blinded the Black Riders. Its grip loosened and I fell to the ground—
But the pain did not end there.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced quickly enough to just be able to see Frodo disappear into the world of the Ring Wraiths. I gasped for air as the horrible thumping in my chest started up again. The Nazgul had now turned their attention back to the hobbit as the arteries throughout my flesh pumped mercilessly. My head throbbed with pain and I clutched it painfully. Gods, make it stop!
One of the Riders was reaching out to the spot where Frodo had been. Was he still there?
Suddenly, the Nazgul drew back and took his sword in his hand. The Rider stabbed it through the air and even though I couldn't see him, Frodo's cry of pain sent my heart wrenching.
With my vision blurred, I stumbled blindly towards the hobbit. But one of the Black Riders stepped in front of me and kicked me to the ground. Their iron boot was shoved into my chest; forcing me to the earth.
Then, from above, I was able to make out a flaming torch and a man's cry. The glint of a sword flashed before my eyes as the Nazgul began to scatter around me. I caught a glimpse of Strider's cloak billowing behind his blurry figure.
Now freed, I dashed once more to the unseen hobbit's side. While the ranger battled on; I tended to Frodo's aid.
I could hear him wailing but the ring was still on his finger. I grappled for his shoulder or any part of him that I might have comforted.
"Frodo!" I gasped, "Frodo, please! Take off the Ring!" I could feel him moving to take it off, but his body was shaking so violently, it made it almost impossible to remove it.
Sam had now regained consciousness and sat on the other side of the hobbit.
"Come on, Mr. Frodo!" he urged.
Finally, the hobbit was able to remove the wretched ring and he reappeared before out eyes. The wound on his left shoulder was deep and the flesh beneath was tainted a hideous green. Frodo's complexion had turned drastically white and his blue eyes had been glazed over with pain.
I turned to call to the ranger just as the final Ring Wraith dashed over the edges of Weathertop.
"Strider!" I cried.
The man turned and his face fell when he saw Frodo lying in agony on the ground. Quickly, the ranger raced to his side as Merry and Pippin began to rise from their painful slumber. I had propped the hobbit's head in m y lap.
"Can you heal him, Strider?" Sam asked desperately.
He shook his head, "This is beyond my skill to heal . . ." he lifted the hobbit onto his shoulder and began to truck down the hillside. Together, the other hobbits and I followed him, "He needs elfish medicine!" he yelled over his shoulder.
Sam grabbed Bill's reins and followed in the rear as we raced across the plains, "But we're six days from Rivendell! He'll never make it!"
"We have to try!" I told the hobbit.
Oh, gods, we had to try . . .
-------
sorry it was so short, but I've been kinda busy lately and I probably won't update for another two weeks unless by some miracle i write a new chapter in the next two days (my family is going on vacation, so we'll be gone for a week or so) but I most definitely promise that they will be in Rivendell by the next chappie, so hang in there! Ja'ne!