Hello again everyone Nuin Griffondor again. So this chapter will take us to the end of the first book/movie, I hope all of you will enjoy it, and in case you didn't know, today January the third is JRR Tolkien's Birthday, which is what this chapter is in honor of. So without further Adieu.
We all kept moving over the next couple days, eager to hurry southwards, but my mind was troubled. Many of the company wished get off on the west bank and to head to Minas Tirith, to gather an army to head out to Mordor, on the other hand I wished for the ring to go to the east bank, keep our company secret, and out of the ever watchful gaze of Sauron, which is what I believe Gandalf wanted for us. But the only ones who agree with my path are Elladan and Sam. Aragorn seems conflicted on which path we should take, and everyone seemed to want to wait and make the decision later.
Most nights Elladan, Demos, and I sleep a short distance away from the others, unable to tolerate the unfriendly, and mistrustful glares any longer. The days I spent in silence, the other two no longer speaking with me. Once or twice upon the river, I thought I saw the lamp like eyes of Gollum. But when I looked back it was only a log. I narrowed my eyes, when I saw him, knowing that he had probably followed us from Moria. Aragorn and I had been discussing him since the first night of our traveling, and attempting to catch him, but have had no success doing so.
The fourth night of our journey we told the rest of the company of the presence of Gollum, in hopes of catching him. But we had no luck there, either. Leaving us with no option other than keeping a watchful eye.
The next day the country on either side began to change rapidly. The banks began to rise and grow stony. Soon they were passing through a hilly rocky land, and on both shores there were steep slopes buried in deep brakes of thorn and sloe, tangled with brambles and creepers. Behind them stood low crumbling cliffs, and chimneys of grey weathered stone dark with ivy; and beyond these again there rose high ridges crowned with wind-writhen firs. We are drawing near to the grey hill-country of the Emyn Muil, the southern march of Wilderland.
There were many birds about the cliffs and the rock-chimneys, and all day high in the air flocks of birds had been circling, black against the pale sky. Which troubled me, Saruman most likely knew of our position, for these birds and the look of the fell Crebian of Dunland. Aragorn shared my concern of these bird.
"We will not have much time when we reach Amon Hen," He tells me that night.
"I know, what decision we make we must make either before we get there, or right as we do so. The enemy will give us no time to do otherwise." I respond to him, and from behind us Boromir gets up.
"For my choice I would caution against going to Minas Tirith-" I begin as Boromir comes over, and interrupts me.
"Why would you fear the white city if you are truly against Sauron, the white city is a stronghold against the power of mordor." He says, his voice loud enough to attract everyone else's attention.
"If you must know, I do not trust that the Men of Gondor will be able to resist the ring's temptation, and I certainly don't trust your father, his mind may be strong enough to wield a palantir, but it is weak enough to wish to wield the ring." I say to him my voice hissing angrily, as Boromir breaths in angrily.
"You have no right to call my people weak, morgul spawn, you know nothing of the war we fight, you have only known the north's of middle earth." He said and took a breath to continue, but I cut him off.
"I have every right, I know well the struggles you face, you are not alone here in being a person who has seen war. I fought in the war against Angmar, I am over three thousand years old, I have seen how strong men have fallen Boromir son of Denethor, son of Ecthelion, and if I have it my way I would not have the ring within a hundred leagues of your city, yes the men of Gondor are weak, in their minds."
Boromir throws a fist towards my faces, sending me flying into an outcropping of rock nearby. I slam against it and fall to the ground, Demos growls at Boromir, tensing his body up, ready to pounce if necessary. Elladan shouts in anger, I see him going for his blade as I attempt to get up. I feel blood running down the side of my face from a cut that I got from hitting the rock.
"Ms. Wraith," I hear Sam's worried voice say coming closer as I fell to the ground, to dizzy to remain upright. Aragorn managed to calm everyone down to the point that everyones hand were off of their weapons. Demos comes over to me, growling profuse profanities pointed against Boromir.
"I'm fine Demos and Sam," I say, as I get up my head ringing, and my vision rather blurry. Elladan comes over and helps me move away from the others. Even though he didn't look it, I could tell that he was fuming at what Boromir had done.
"I'm going to kill him," Elladan says angrily as he wipes blood from the side of my face.
"No, just leave him be, It isn't him speaking, the ring is influencing all of us, driving us apart." I say to him, putting my hand on his shoulder, "Boromir feels it stronger than most, he sees the ring as a tool that can help gondor win."
"I-" He begins but I cut him off, by planting my lips upon his, effectively stopping his potential rant. I lay down and just stared at the stars.
When eighth night of our journey came. It was silent and windless; the grey east wind had passed away. The thin crescent of the Moon had fallen early into the pale sunset, but the sky was clear above, and though far away in the South there were great ranges of cloud that still shone faintly, in the West stars glinted bright.
"Come!" Aragorn says. "We will venture one more journey by night. We are coming to reaches of the River that I do not know well; for I have never journeyed by water in these parts before, not between here and the rapids of Sarn Gebir. But if I am right in my reckoning, those are still many miles ahead. Still there are dangerous places even before we come there: rocks and stony eyots in the stream. We must keep a sharp watch and not try to paddle swiftly."
"Hoy there, Aragorn!" Boromir shouts, as his boat bumped into the lead boat. "This is madness! We cannot dare the Rapids by night! But no boat can live in Sarn Gebir, be it night or day."
"Back, back!" Aragorn cries. "Turn! Turn if you can!" He drove his paddle into the water, trying to hold the boat and bring it round.
"I knew it, I knew we were going to die, boats are a cursed evil." Demos says glaring at me
With great efforts they checked the boats and slowly brought them about; but at first they could make only small headway against the current, and all the time they were carried nearer and nearer to the eastern bank. Now dark and ominous it loomed up in the night.
"All together, paddle!" shouts Boromir. "Paddle! Or we shall be driven on the shoals."
At that moment there was a twang of bowstrings: several arrows whistled over them, and some fell among them. One smote Frodo between the shoulders and he lurched forward with a cry, letting go his paddle: but the arrow fell back, foiled by his hidden coat of mail. Another passed through Aragorn's hood; and a third stood fast in the gunwale of the second boat, close by Merry's hand. Through the shadows I could see black figures running to and fro upon the long shingle-banks that lay under the eastern shore.
"Orcs," Legolas calls, readying his longbow
"Orcs!" Gimli cries out as well.
Everyone leans forward straining at the paddles: except for Demos, who dived under the baggage. Every moment I feared to feel the bite of black-feathered arrows. Many whined overhead or struck the water nearby; but there were no more hits. It was dark, but not too dark for the night-eyes of Orcs, and in the star-glimmer we must offer our cunning foes some easy marks.
Stroke by stroke we all laboured on. Slowly the swirl of the water grew less, and the shadow of the eastern bank faded back into the night. At last, as far as we could judge, we had reached the middle of the stream again and had driven our boats back some distance above the jutting rocks. Then half turning the Tauriel, Durhil, and I thrust our oars with all our strength towards the western shore. Under the shadow of bushes leaning out over the water we halted and drew breath.
Legolas laid down his paddle and took up the bow that he had brought from Lórien. Then he sprang ashore and climbed a few paces up the bank. Stringing the bow and fitting an arrow he turned, peering back over the River into the darkness. Across the water there were shrill cries, but nothing could be seen.
Suddenly, I felt an all to familiar chill go down the back of my spine, which signaled the coming of a Nazgûl.
"Nazgûl," I say to the others, and everyone begins getting out of the boats and onto the shore. Everyone looked around, but my gaze was upwards to the, the great clouds advanced from the South, sending out dark outriders into the starry fields, as I did so, a dark shape, like a cloud and yet not a cloud, for it moved far more swiftly, came out of that fell blackness in the South, and sped towards us, blotting out all light as it approached. Soon it appeared as a great winged creature, blacker than the pits in the night. Fierce voices rose up to greet it from across the water, as they did, a fell sheik came from the beast, signaling that upon its back, was a Nazgûl. A great terror fell upon the others of the company, from that terrible shriek, reacting on pure instinct, I drew Áramacil and shouted, "Cala!"
As though the sun had suddenly sprung upon my blade, light lanced through the night, causing a shriek of agony from the Nazgûl, his steed, and the orcs across the river.
"Elbereth Gilthoniel!" Legolas cried, as the great bow of Lórien sang. Shrill went the arrow from the elven-string. The steed of the Nazgûl swerved, losing a harsh croaking scream, as it fell out of the air, vanishing down into the gloom of the eastern shore. As though the steed had never been there, the sky cleared again. There was a tumult of many voices far away, cursing and wailing in the darkness, and then silence. Neither shaft nor cry came again from the east that night.
I sheathed my blade, causing the great light to fade away, I turned to see the rest of the company staring in awe.
"We should move no more tonight, one of them aragorn and I can handle, but who knows how many more are going to be behind or in front of us." I say to Aragorn, who nods, then says "Yet where they are, and how many, and what they will do next, we do not know. This night we must all be sleepless! Dark hides us now. But what the day will show who can tell? Have your weapons close to hand!"
For the next several days, all was quiet, but a fear began growing in the back of my mind, something bad was about to happen, when we finally reached Amon Hen, I was getting very nervous, we were finished eating, Aragorn called the Company together.
"The day has come at last," he says "The day of choice which we have long delayed. What shall now become of our Company that has travelled so far in fellowship? Shall we turn west with Boromir and go to the wars of Gondor; or turn east to the Fear and Shadow; or shall we break our fellowship and go this way and that as each may choose? Whatever we do must be done soon. We cannot long halt here. The enemy is on the eastern shore, we know; but I fear that the Orcs may already be on this side of the water."
There was a long silence in which no one spoke or moved.
"Well, Frodo," Aragorn says at last, and I look to the nervous young hobbit. "I fear that the burden is laid upon you. You are the Bearer appointed by the Council. Your own way you alone can choose. In this matter I cannot advise you. I am not Gandalf, and though I have tried to bear his part, I do not know what design or hope he had for this hour, if indeed he had any. Most likely it seems that if he were here now the choice would still wait on you. Such is your fate."
Frodo was quiet for some time, as if in thought. Then he spoke slowly. "I know that haste is needed, yet I cannot choose. The burden is heavy. Give me an hour longer, and I will speak. Let me be alone!"
Aragorn looks at him with kindly pity. "Very well, Frodo son of Drogo, you shall have an hour, and you shall be alone. We will stay here for a while. But do not stray far or out of call."
I lay down, and closed my eyes, but the feeling in my gut was still there, about thirty minutes later I opened my eyes and looked to where Boromir had been sitting, but then noticed that he was not there. Quietly, I stood and left the company unnoticed, and followed followed my instincts up to the top of the hill, leaving Demos behind, asleepl, where I saw Frodo fall from the top of Amon Hen. I rush over to him.
"Frodo?" I ask, and he turns his face towards me, fear evident in his eyes.
"It has taken Boromir." He says, and I immediately begin to feel fear flow through my body.
"Where is the ring?" I ask, keeping the fear in my voice back.
"Stay away," He says, fearful, and flees behind a pillar
"Frodo," I say following him as he stops, "I swore to protect you."
"Can you protect me from yourself?" He says, and I realize what must have happened, Boromir attempted to steal the ring from him, and he is now questioning it the rest of the company is feeling the pull as well. Frodo slowly opens his hand revealing the ring, I hear it begin whispering to me, of all the power, and the greatness that it could bring to me.
"Would you destroy it?" He asks me and I walk towards him, and kneel down in front of him, and in that second I see his plans, he is leaving the company to save them from the power of the ring.
"Arindil." I hear the ring whisper as I do so, I reach for his hand, and close it.
"I would have followed you to the end Frodo, to the fire abyss of Mordor, and the deepest dungeons of Barad Dur." I tell him, tears forming in my eyes.
"I know," He tells me, "Look after the others, especially Sam, he will not understand."
I nod to him, and look down, and notice a bright blue coming from Frodo's scabbard.
"Run Frodo," I tell him, drawing Áramacil, and he looks confused, and follows my gaze to his blade, and draws it enough to see that it is bright blue. He looks at me, and I give him a sad look. "Run, RUN."
He begins running as I go to the other side of Amon Hen, and see a great many large black Uruks, in broad daylight. I draw the second blade of mine, the one I picked up in Lothlorien, and begin walking towards them as they charge me. I duck under a slash from one of the Uruks, and cut the beast in half, and then begin fighting them, drawing them up into Amon Hen, killing a great many of them.
I hear one, far bigger than the others shout out to his fellows, "FIND THE HALFLINGS, GO FIND THE HALFLINGS."
I knock one of the monsters off the top, stopping three from running past Amon Hen, and jump into a crowd of these Uruks.
"MANWË," I shout as I jump, knock many of the Uruks down, I stab both my blades upwards as two of the Uruks attack me, sinking both of them into their chests. I hear the twang of Bowstrings as four orcs fall to the ground dead, and running up the hill comes Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, Tauriel, Arzaroth, Aragorn, and Gimli. I slash and hack my way through the Orcs, trying to stop them from going down hill, but there were just too many of them to stop. When the Orcs at the top started to thin out, I heard a horn blast from down him.
"The horn of Gondor," Legolas says
"Boromir and Durhil," Aragorn says, and we all begin running down the hill killing the Uruks as we went by. Aragorn went ahead as we killed Orcs. As we caught up to him, we found a clearing with many dead orcs, Durhil and Boromir both lying on the ground, and arrow in each of their chests, both still alive.
"Bring them closer together I say running over to them."
"Why, so you can-" Arzaroth says, but I cut her off.
"I am going to try and save them." I say to her, Meeting her gaze. The others brought the two of them closer together, and I kneel down next to them.
"I am not going to let you die just yet, Elladan, Aragorn, at my signal, pull the arrows out, slowly." I tell them and they nod their heads and kneel down next to our two injured companions.
I close my eyes and send healing magic into the two and nod to the others, and as the arrows were pulled out, the flesh slowly began knitting back together. When the two were fully healed I fell backwards, exhausted, the strain of healing the two of them and the battle previously taking its toll. The other two get up at the same time that I did.
"They took Merry and Pippin, I don't know where Frodo and Sam are at." Durhil says to the others.
"With any luck, Frodo has already begun his Journey to Mordor, I engaged the Orcs to give him time to run, I let him go." I say, and everyone looks at me with varying degrees of shock, Boromir walked over to me slowly.
"Then you did what I could not, I tried to take the ring from him." He says
"I know, he told me, which is why, he could not stay with us, he had to forge his own path, the ring was driving us apart and he could see it." We arrived at the boats and see, across the river, one of the boats. Demos sat there sadly.
"Sam went with Frodo," He says to me, and I nod.
"Sam went with Frodo, he won't be alone." I say looking around to the others.
"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands." Aragorn says to the others
"Then it has all been in vain, the fellowship has failed," Gilmi says despairingly
"No not if we stay true, We cannot abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death, we leave all that can be spared behind, lets hunt some Orcs." Aragron say
"Yes," I say happily
With that we take what we will need, and begin running after the Orcs.
There we go the end of The Fellowship of the ring, I worked really hard to get this to you guys today, so please, Review. As Always, Nuin Griffondor Out.