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My Collection of Drabbles   by Periantari

Merry

What had made me cower in fear and fall at the instant where Frodo had needed me most?

Tears gathered in my eyes as I rushed forward to see the prostrate form of Frodo lying facedown upon his broken sword.  I fell to my knees, anxiously looking at Frodo and at Sam who, amidst his tear-stained cheeks, was trying to revive Frodo.

Choked sobs made me turn to see Pippin, pale as Frodo, weeping quietly with his knees pulled up.  I gathered Pippin in my arms, drawing him near, trying to give and find comfort just enough to help us aid Frodo.

Pippin

Shadowy figures approached us slowly but I stood immobilized beside Merry.  They will not get to Frodo.  Even though my sword was unsheathed, a strong sense of cold fear seemed to freeze my soul

As I fell, the cry of Elvish, the clink of metal upon the ground, and the anguished cry of Frodo blanketed me with utter dread.  

Merry’s soft touch brought me back to the present as he held me close.

“Frodo?” I whispered.  Too scared to see how badly Frodo was injured, I knew then, that the hardest part of the journey was just about to begin.

Sam

With dread, I saw Merry and Pippin fall in fear, as the shapeless Black Riders came charging towards us.

Frodo trembled visibly, amidst a bitter struggle, as he reached for his pocket…Suddenly, he disappeared.

“No!”

The immobilizing, chilling fear passed only after Strider had chased away the wraiths; all feeling left me as I ran to see Frodo, unconscious and bleeding.

“Mr. Frodo!”

The trepidation of Frodo dead could only compare to the feeling of when I first found out that Ma had died.  Still, a pulse remained, hope rekindled, as I tried to be strong… for all of us.

Aragorn

The Ring-wraiths had come. A bitter struggle was necessary to fight and protect the hobbits.

They fled at the sight of fire but I realized immediately that I had been too late.

Huddled on the ground besides Frodo, the hobbits’ faces were aggrieved, cheeks tear-stained.  Frodo’s blood-stained tunic sapped them of hope.

But I could not give in.

“Get Frodo comfortable and lay him by the fire,” I commanded as I hastily went away once more.

I had promised Gandalf that I’ll see that Frodo would get to Rivendell.  And if life or death I would save him, I will.

Frodo

I stirred and forced my eyes open.  Blurrily, the anxious faces of Sam, Merry, and Pippin focused dimly before me.  Involuntarily I cried out,

What has happened?  Where is the pale king?***

The chill and pain was permeating my shoulder and side.  Weakly, I let the others tend to my hurts and answer to my questions on what had happened.

Dizzily, I tried to absorb the information that my friends were telling me but at that moment, I only felt guilt, a bone-numbing pain spreading, immobilizing me, further worrying me of how I was able to proceed along the journey.





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