Chapter Two: Weathertop

A few evenings after Frodo's questioning, the party arrived at a crumbling structure.

Pippin was leading Whisper's mare while Same held tight to Strider's steed. The two Rangers stood side by side, sorrow and regret written on their faces as they gazed at it.

"This was the great watchtower of Amon Sul," Strider said just loud enough for the Hobbits to hear. He turned to them. "We shall rest here tonight."

It took them nearly two hours to climb to the top, and by the time they reached it, it was full nightfall.

"Whisper and I will go gather food for the rest of the journey," Strider said. "Stay here and keep a close watch." He unwrapped four small swords and handed one to each as they shed their packs in the small alcove they were using as shelter. "These are for you. Keep them close." He began his decent slowly.

"Stay here," Whisper said before following. It took the two less than half the time to reach the bottom.

Strider turned to her. "The air feels different," he said vaguely. "Something is going to happen." He glanced at their surroundings. "I want you to stay here and signal if anything happens."

Whisper nodded, finding a secluded yet easily maneuverable place for her to keep watch as Strider left, his cloak pulled tight against the wind. Whisper stretched her arms, legs, and back, her long limbs tightening then relaxing. She lowered her head, and a long, thick golden-red braid fell past her waist. She tucked a few loose strands behind her slightly pointed ears to keep them from tickling her.

Hours passed, and the night grew darker. She heard an echo from above her. "Put it out, you fools, put it out!"

"Frodo!' she hissed, moving so she could look up. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the flicker of a fire being stomped out.

"Oh, that's nice!" Pippin yelled, and the echo reached Whisper. "Ash on my tomatoes!"

Praying silently, Whisper hoped nothing heard the commotion. But the piercing scream told her otherwise. She turned and saw a faction of the Nine riding for Weathertop at full gallop.

Knowing that Strider heard the Nazgul's scream, she began her climb, hurrying.

"Damn," she swore as stone broke away under her hand, forcing her to stretch farther for a handhold. Finally, she made it to the top, just as the Wraiths did. She saw Sam bravely attack the Witch King, and she leapt forward, her sword drawn. Two of the others began fighting, swinging their dark blades while the Witch King continued.

She stabbed one just as she heard Frodo scream. "No!" she growled, fighting more vigorously.

"Here!" came Strider's yell as he lept at the Witch King, fighting him away from Frodo. He had a lit torch in one hand, his sword in the other. He threw the flame at one Wraith, and it caught fire instantly.

The Rangers drove the rest over the edge, fighting, striking killing blows. When they had finally gone, the two hurried to Frodo.

Whisper quickly pulled aside the Hobbit's shirt to look at the wound while Strider picked up the dagger.

"Help him," Sam begged as Frodo continued to moan in agony.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade," Strider hissed, glaring at it. Suddenly, is disintegrated, and Strider tossed the hilt aside.

Whisper looked at him. "This is beyond my skill to heal," she said. "He needs Elvish medicine."

Strider quickly lifted Frodo, and they began at a renewed haste.

"We're six days from Rivendell," Sam said as he led Strider's stud. "He'll never make it!"

Whisper, furious with herself for not being able to do more, sent a silent prayer. "Hold on, Frodo," she whispered.

Three days later, the group stopped for a short break. Sam pressed his hand to Frodo's forehead.

"He's going cold!" he exclaimed, looking to Whisper. Strider held a torch, looking at the underbrush.

Pippin knelt beside Whisper, who was wrapping Frodo in a blanket. "Is he going to die?"

Whisper didn't answer, her brow furrowed.

"He's passing into the Shadow World. He'll soon become a Wraith like them," Strider said, his voice expressionless.

Frodo made a choking moan, cold sweat covering him, his eyes glazing over. Strider called Sam to him. "Do you know the Athelas plant?"

"Athelas?" Sam sounded confused.

"Kingsfoil!" Strider hissed.

"Aye, it's a weed!" His face showed disgust.

Strider put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "It may help to slow the poison. Hurry!"

The two hurried off in the underbrush, leaving Whisper, Merry, and Pippin to care for Frodo.

"What can we do?" Merry asked.

"I don't know!" hissed Whisper, frustrated at herself. When the two looked at her, she immediately regretted it. "I apologize. I'm just…"

"Look!" Sam hissed as he came back into the clearing.

They turned, and Whisper saw Arwen, the daughter of Lord Elrond.

"She's and Elf!" whispered Sam, awestruck.

Arwen knelt next to Whisper, leaning over Frodo as Strider put pieces of ground Athelas into the wound, causing Frodo to gasp.

"He's fading," Arwen whispered, glancing at Strider. "He's not going to last. We must get him to my Father." Strider scooped the injured and delirious Hobbit into his arms. "I've been looking for you for two days."

The other Hobbits gathered around Whisper, who was still kneeling. "Where are you taking him?" demanded Merry.

Arwen lead Strider to her horse and she mounted. "There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know."

Strider and Arwen switched from the Spoken Language to Elvish, and Whisper tried not to eavesdrop. She knew of their deep love for each other. He slowly put Frodo into the saddle with her.

"What are they saying?" Pippin asked, staring.

"I do not fear them," Arwen insisted quietly to Strider.

He gently took her hand. "Arwen," he began softly. "Ride hard. Don't look back."

She gave him a swift smile and urged her horse forward in the Elf tongue. The horse took off like an arrow loosed from a bow.

"What are you doing?!" Sam yelled. "Those Wraiths are still out there!" His glare settled on Strider, who was staring after the Elf he loved.

Whisper took Sam's hand and he looked into her brilliant eyes, his own brimmed with tears. "She is Arwen, daughter of Elrond, the lord of Rivendell," she explained to him swiftly. "she is taking him to safety, to Rivendell, faster than we ever could."

Sam looked away as if he were embarrassed. When he turned back, the tears he had been trying to withhold were spilling down his rosy cheeks. "But I promised…" he said. "I promised Master Gandalf…I wouldn't leave him, and now I have…"

His tears and his words touched Whisper, and she gently folded her arms around the sobbing Hobbit. His loyalty to Frodo greatly resembled her loyalty to Strider. She held him until he stopped his tears.

Author's Note:

Happy Friday! I hope you all are enjoying the story thus far! This has been one of my favorite stories to write, and I hope to see some reviews for it soon. Thanks for the favorites and the follows!