Chapter 18
The next day started off vying to be worse than the first. Instead of constantly slapping at the biting midges of the swamps, everyone was busy scratching at the bites, cursing as they found there was no relief from the itch. Strider led them silently throughout the day, stopping only to allow them a quick, cold meal, before heading out once more. Sooner than everyone expected, dusk fell, just as they were coming up to the large, solitary torr Strider seemed to have been aiming for all day.
"This was once the great watchtower of Amon Sul." Strider said, looking upon it with an unreadable expression on his face. "We will rest here tonight." he continued, trekking up to the side and around until he found a staircase leading up into the ruined fortress.
Up the staircase and along a corridor, Strider led them until they were in an exposed bowl on the side of the torr which gave them a view both East and West. Removing a heavy package from his pack, Strider unwrapped it to reveal four daggers, each long enough to serve a hobbit as a sword. Tossing one to Frodo, he laid the rest in front of the others.
"Keep these close." he instructed. "Stay here. We're going to have a look around."
Strider motioned fro Natasha to precede him into the corridor then led the way to the crown of the torr, where the main portion of the watchtower had once stood. Together they scouted the ruins, slowly circling outward until they stood below where they were camped. Cold suddenly screamed through Natasha's mind and she stumbled back against the rock face,
"They're here." she managed to hiss around the pain in her skull and Strider only hesitated a moment before dashing away to the staircase into Amon Sul.
A bloodcurdling shriek rang through the air and Natasha could hear Frodo shouting to the others. The pain in her head cleared and she focused her Gift on placing herself between Frodo and their attackers and instantly she was where she wanted to be, staring into the empty hood of a seven foot tall Black Rider.
"Holy Shit!" she exclaimed, reeling back as she raised her blazing hands.
"The Black Rider stepped back in fear, but only a single step as his attention became focused again on Frodo. Or at least where Frodo was supposed to be. Cursing as whirling wind blocked her hearing and a ghostly King of old stood over both her and Frodo, Natasha matched the Rider step for step until, finally impatient, he flung her out of the way and reached for Frodo. Frodo fought with everything he had not to give up the Ring which currently rested on his finger. Angry at being rebuked, the King struck out with the blade in his other hand, striking Frodo in the shoulder. Frodo screamed in pain, and Natasha unleashed a ball of fire at the Rider, just as Strider jumped in front of him brandishing his sword in one hand and a burning branch in the other.
"Take it off, Frodo!" Natasha shouted over the whirling wind as she reached the injured hobbit's side.
Suddenly the wind disappeared as did the ghostly figures of the Rider. Frodo lay crying out in pain as Sam joined his master, trying to give him comfort. Natasha's training had all ready kicked into high gear and she immediately began tending the wound, to the point of pushing Sam out of the way accidentally in order to get better access to the injury.
"He's been struck by a Morgul blade. He needs Elvish medicine." Strider said, hefting Frodo onto his shoulder and dashing out of Amon Sul, the displeased shrieks and wails of the Black Riders following them into the darkness.
"But we're six days from Rivendell!" Sam shouted, leading Bill, the pony as fast as hobbit legs could move. "He'll never make it."
"Oh yes he will." Natasha corrected determinedly, stopping Strider beneath some immense stones.
Focusing all her Gift on the task, Natasha sense her way deep into Frodo's wound, feeling a shard of the blade lodged within the shoulder and… moving towards the heart? Filing it away to ask about later, she wrapped her power around the shard, preventing it from moving any farther, sensing that if she tried to remove it as pressed as they were for time, either it would splinter or their pursuers would catch up and all would be lost.
"It's not much." Natasha sighed, sitting back heavily. "But at least that shard won't reach his heart before we have a chance to remove it. Now the only thing we need to worry about is the poison running through his veins."
Strider nodded, turning away in thought for a moment, spinning back as an idea popped into his head.
"Do you know the athelas plant?" he asked her.
Natasha's eyes widened in confused surprise as she dug into her pouch and removed some.
"What's athelas?" Sam asked.
"Kingsfoil." Strider replied distractedly, taking the herb and chewing it to a pulp.
"Ah, but that's a weed!" Sam protested as Strider pressed the pulverized plant into the wound.
"It may help to slow the poison." Strider sighed in relief as Frodo relaxed a little, though his breathing was still laboured.
The sound of hooves suddenly reached their ears and everyone ducked into the brush surrounding the small fire Sam had started when they first stopped. Natasha could see a white horse cantering along the trail from her position, just before its rider came into view. A magnificent golden haired elf, all dressed in white moved past them before Strider called out to the Rider.
"Glorfindel!" he cried, laughing in relief.
The rider turned his mount towards the call and a beautiful smile spread across his face as he replied.
"Ai na vedui Dunadan! Mae govannen!" he dismounted and embraced the ranger tightly. "I've been searching for you for two days, mellon-nin. There are five Wraiths behind you, where the other four are, I do not know."
"They will join in the chase before long, I shouldn't wonder." Strider replied, leading the elf back to the rest of the group. "Natasha has done what she can for this hobbit. Is there anything you can do, mellon?"
He showed Glorfindel the wound in Frodo's shoulder and the elf's face turned grim as he examined the hobbit briefly before finally shaking his head.
"This is beyond my skill to heal. Only Lord Elrond can save him now."
"Then let's move." Natasha said, grabbing her pack, the hobbits following suit.
Glorfindel scooped Frodo into his arms, carrying him as though he were as light as a feather, and gently sat him atop his horse.
"You are Mithrandir's apprentice, are you not?" he asked when Frodo was settled.
"Yes. I believe we met briefly when we passed through Imladris on our way to Bilbo's party." Natasha replied.
"Yes, though I would have liked to have spoken with you at length, had you had the time. It is said you are not from Arda."
"That is true. But perhaps when we reach Rivendell would be a better time to talk of such things." Natasha said, steadying Frodo and sending him a bit of strength.
"Of course, my lady." the elf agreed. "Perhaps it would be better if you rode Asfaloth behind the halfling. If there should be danger, Asfaloth will be able to keep him on his back but someone should be there to explain what has happened to Lord Elrond when he arrives.
Unable to find a flaw in this logic, Natasha mounted behind Frodo and wrapped her arm around him, using the other to take hold of the mane as there was no saddle horn to grab onto. Silence reigned as they walked through the forest and it wasn't until they'd left the tree line that any sound broke it. Then several things happened at once. A shriek split the air as cold slammed into Natasha's skull; pounding hooves approached rapidly from the rear of the group and Glorfindel shouted to Asfaloth:
"Noro lim, noro lim Asfaloth!"
And the horse bolted from the group, racing across the plain East, with all nine Riders in hot pursuit. Leaning down as far as she could across Asfaloth's neck, Natasha looked back, sending a fireball back at the leader catching him in the face and stopping him in his tracks for the time being. Repeating Glorfindel's words, Natasha urged Asfaloth faster, sending some of her energy both to the horse and Frodo.
Ahead, Natasha could see the river that marked the border of Imladris, the Bruinen. Casting a look back, she nearly screamed at how close the remaining Riders were, but swallowed the impulse and instead threw another fireball. Though this one didn't hit any of them, it did break them up and slow them down. Next thing she knew, Asfaloth was crossing the Ford and clambering up the opposite back. Frodo, regaining some of his senses, turned to look at their pursuers, shaking a hand at them.
"Go back to Mordor!" he shouted weakly.
"Come back! Come back! To Mordor we will take you!" they called back enticingly.
"The Dark Lord will never have me not the Ring! Go back!" Frodo persisted, almost falling had it not been for Natasha.
"You're going to get us both killed." Natasha hissed, moving Asfaloth away from the edge of the bank.
"Impudent halfling!" the new leader cursed, urging his horse into the water, the others following.
Suddenly, a roar came from upstream and the sound of rushing water. The Riders all looked and screamed in fear. The river had risen up, forming itself into frothy horses and riders carrying torches and boulders rushing towards them. They tried to run, but the flooding waters were too swift, catching them up and seeping them down river.
On the opposite bank, Natasha saw a glowing figure, sword raised high, Strider and the three other hobbits close behind waving flaming branches. Waving quickly, she nudged Asfaloth along the trail, urging him to hurry to the Last Homely House, were Lord Elrond and two attendants waited. Explaining quickly what had happened, Natasha raced alongside Lord Elrond as the attendants carried Frodo into the healing houses.
All through the night, Elrond and Natasha worked to get the poison out of Frodo's body and removing the shard, the attendants rushing to melt the shard down so it would be of no more harm. Finally, just as the sun began shining into Frodo's room, Elrond announced that they'd done everything they could. Frodo, breathing softly and unhindered, looked pale and a little worse for wear but definitely improved as compared to when he'd first arrived in Imladris. A very tired Lord of Rivendell and Istari apprentice left the healing houses, each seeking a quick meal and soft bed.
Natasha was glad of the support someone rendered her as they led her to her guest chambers. She'd spent the majority of her energy adding to Frodo's strength to get him through the night and now just keeping her eyes open was a difficult task without adding walking to the combination. Before her eyes finally slipped closed, she caught sight of a grey blur, speaking in a familiar voice of how proud he was of her. The last thing she remembered was feeling her forehead being tickled briefly as a soft kiss was placed there and then she remembered no more.