Anastasia and the plot are the only part of this which belongs to me. Everything else belongs to their respective owners; namely J.R.R. Tolkien.

Italics – Thoughts/Thinking

Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

Chapter 15: Inevitable Death

Anastasia

The next few days were spent in misery. It was cold and rainy soaking our clothing threw; but what was worse were the low provisions and the distance we had yet to travel. Both Frodo and I were feeling our wounds more than ever as the pain and coldness clawed its way through our bodies. It wouldn't have been so bad if we could keep the chill away, but at night no fire was lit because of the rain.

I could smell the worry coming off of Aragorn and the hobbits, as well as the fear; but I could no longer focus on the words they were saying. I was miserable, being cold, wet, in pain and hungry. I was worse off than Frodo, who need considerably much less food than I. I needed about 2 kg (~4.5lbs) of food a day, but it is nearly impossible to carry that much for a long journey and I was no longer able to hunt for my arm was now completely useless, hanging lifelessly beside me. With my strength waning faster than Frodo's, the poison spread more quickly through my body than his.

Travelling was difficult enough without having a trail to follow, but it got worse as we head up out of the ravine. Frodo had to climb since the pony could barely make it up, adding to his pain and misery. It was hard enough for Aragorn and the three uninjured hobbits to climb up, but for Frodo and I the task was much next to impossible without the use of one of our arms. That night we remained on the top of the steep hill, after Frodo collapsed onto the ground. I wasn't far behind him as my body reached its limits and was now trembling.

The next day, the other side was significantly easier to climb down for it was not a steep. Quickly we reached the bottom and shortly after we were on a trail. The trailed meandered its way through the trees as it became wider and more visible. After passing a cliff over hang, much fear emitted from the hobbits although they were brave and continued on.

As I continued to blindly follow one of the hobbits, for I could no longer tell which one was which, came running back to Aragorn. This lead to much laughter than lunch in a glade underneath the warming sun as it attempted to chase away the darkness that was closing in. Lunch lead to a song and I drifted in and out of consciousness as the hobbits enjoyed themselves a bit. Lying in the sun, I could no long feel my inner beast, for it usually enjoyed sunbathing for hours on end. I could not feel it presence or instincts trying to override my own judgement.

Eventually I was being shaken awake and helped to my feet. He smelt heavily of worry and continued to hold onto my arm. He smelt like a forest, dark and hidden so I assumed it was Strider, but I could not be certain. My head was spinning and the darkness had clouded my eye sight. My body was numb. No longer could I feel the pain and the cold, only a dull ache where my body should have been. I was dying, I knew that, and there was nothing I could do.

I was once in a similar situation where death seemed inevitable, but I survived and I will continue to do so. I didn't give up when the odds were against me and there appeared to be no way to escape. I did escape and I ran far from the monster who tried to destroy me like he had done to some many others. I made it to safety, bloody and broken, where once more I became healthy before he came after me again.

Frodo

The light faded, and the leaves on the bushes rustled softly. Clearer and nearer now the bells jingled, and clippety-clip came the quick trotting feet. Suddenly into view below came a white horse, gleaming in the shadows, running swiftly. In the dusk its headstall flickered and flashed, as if it were studded with gems like living stars. The rider's clock streamed behind him, and his hood was thrown back; his golden hair flowed shimmering in the wind of the speed. To Frodo it appeared that a white light was shining through the form and raiment of the rider, as if though a thin veil.

Strider sprang from hiding and dashed down towards the road, leaping with a cry through the heather; but even before he had moved or called, the rider had reined in his horse and halted, looking up towards the thicket were they stood. When he saw Strider, he dismounted and ran to meet him calling out: Ai ne vedui Dúnadan! Mae govannen! His speech and clear ringing voice left no doubt in their hearts: the rider was of the Elven-folk. No others that dewlt in the wide world had voices so fair to hear. But there seemed to be a note of haste or fear in his call, and they saw that he was now speaking quickly and urgently to Strider.1

Tolkien, J.R.R. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. London: Allen & Unwin, 1954. Print.

The quotes came from the chapters called Flight to the Ford1.

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