Mo Ghile Mear

Terror At Minas Morgul

***Sera's POV***

Gollum shook both me and Sam awake. We found an old statue and slept inside of it while the evil beast had taken watch.

"Yes, sleepies," said Gollum as he got in my face. I could smell his putrid breath. "We must go at once."

I yawned and stretched before glancing over at Frodo. The poor thing looked even more tired than before. He had dark circles under his eyes, and the whites around his once-vibrant blue orbs were tinged lightly with red and none of his usual liveliness shone in them. I hated to see him act this way. The Ring was taking a definite toll on him, ever since he'd almost revealed himself to the Witch-King.

"Haven't you gotten any sleep, Mr. Frodo?" I asked as I continued to watch him. He tiredly shook his head. I didn't blame him. I, however, began to blame myself. I had gotten a nice nap, and so did Sam. But not Frodo. He needs all the rest he can get.

"I've gone and had too much," Sam grumbled. "I'll bet that it's evening already."

"No, it isn't," Frodo answered in a weak voice. "It isn't mid-day yet. The days seemed to be growing darker."

A rumbling shook the earth, signalling that Mount Doom was growing stronger than before, the closer and closer we got to Mordor. Gollum was getting frantic. He was more in a hurry than we are. I was just worried about Frodo's safety. He can't go on like this! He'll need all the help and support he can get.

"We must go!" said Gollum in an impatient voice. "No time!"

"Not until Mr. Frodo's had something to eat," I snapped back in reply. Gollum said something else, but I was barely listening. The stupid creature had no idea what the Ring was doing to Frodo. Sure, he might have been corrupted by the Ring, but that only made him stronger. Frodo only got weaker the closer and closer we got to Mordor. I sat back down and began to sift through whatever we had left. Luckily, we had a good amount of Lembas bread left. But I had rationed it so that we can have some on the way home back to the Shire. I picked out the best piece we had and handed it to Frodo. "Here."

Frodo looked at the bread before taking it into his hands. He began to unwrap it eagerly. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Frodo must have noticed that I wasn't eating anything and he spoke up.

"What about you, Sera?"

I had to think up a quick lie, even though Frodo would most likely not buy it.

"I-I'm not hungry. Besides, it's your health that's more important."

Frodo did not buy my white lie.

"Sera," he insisted.

I sighed, giving in. In truth, I was hungry. But not nearly as hungry as Frodo is at the moment. Even though he barely eats, I make sure that he has something every great once and a while.

"Alright," I finally grumbled before speaking in a normal voice. "We don't have that much left. I figured that I'd split it up and save it."

Frodo looked confused.

"For what?"

I gave him a sad look. The thought of probably never returning home again devastated me. It would devastate Frodo as well.

"The journey home."

***

What felt like days later, we managed to reach the Dark Tower. Frodo needed a shoulder to lean on, so I was willing to give that to him. I kept an arm around his waist, pulling him close to me. His eyes were heavy with sleep, but I knew that he wouldn't dare let them close.

"There they are," Gollum hissed. An unpleasant shiver ran up my spine at the evilness in his voice. "The Great Stairs of Cirith Ungol. We must climb quickly."

Sam and I glanced at each other, defeated. If we wanted a safer place to get to Mordor without being seen, I suppose that this is the only way.

"I do not like this, at all," I murmured to myself before getting a good hold on one of the thin staircases. I was about to climb up but Frodo was suddenly gone. I looked over my shoulder to see that he was slowly being pulled towards the Black City.

"FRODO!" Sam and I screamed.

"It's calling for me," Frodo answered in a weak voice. We restrained him, pulling the poor hobbit back towards the stairs. Just as we did, a green light burst from the top of the city. We managed to hide in time before the Witch-King of Angmar came out, riding on top of a Fell Beast.

I managed to hold Frodo close to me, protecting him with all that I had. I wrapped both of my arms protectively around his frail, fragile frame. A shrieking noise filled the air. It was so loud that we had to put our hands over our ears. I made sure to protect Frodo even further, placing my own hands over his ears. I winced at the intense shrieking. Finally, Frodo managed to give a scream of his own, clutching at the wound he'd received on Weathertop. He leaned into me and I held onto his hand, now that the shrieking had lessened, and the Nazgul had flown away.

"I can feel his blade," Frodo whimpered as I gripped his hand for comfort. He gave one more yell of pain before sinking into my arms.

"You're okay," I murmured softly, rubbing his arm in an attempt to comfort him. "YOu're okay. You're gonna be okay."

He sank into my embrace, his entire body trembling.

"We must go," Gollum insisted, sounding impatient. "We have no time."

"Can't you just let him rest for a little bit?" I asked, irritated, as I pulled Frodo's body limply into my arms. "He's tired. He can't handle too much at a time."

"We have no time," Gollum insisted.

So I knew that we had no choice but to climb up the steep stairs. I got to my feet. Frodo still laid on the ground, his back pressed against the large boulder that hid us. He still clutched at the wound on his chest, his body trembling. I smiled sadly at him before offering him a hand. I helped him to the stairs, and we began to climb the stairs of Cirith Ungol.