A Risk And What It Brings

Oaths Fulfilled

The ghost army charged.
The fight was slowly turning in favor of the White City.
Legolas and Aragorn ran in and met with Gandalf and Gimli, who were carrying Pippin to the Houses of Healing.
Gandalf was a maiar, and was barely affected when he stabbed the Witch-King.
The same could not be said of Pippin, who was in excruciating pain.
When at last the battle ended, the Oliphants lay slain, and the remaining Orcs fled in fear of the ghost army.

Those who remained gathered in the Houses of Healing, where Pippin was laid to rest.
Boromir ran in with Faramir over his shoulder, and laid him gently on a bed.
Faramir had received an ugly cut to the chest and an arrow to the leg.
Aragorn saw the commotion and turned to leave, but the King of the Dead stood in his way.
"Set us free. You gave us your word!"
Aragorn looked at the transparent figure.
"I hold your oaths fulfilled. Go now. And be at peace."
The army of dead disappeared.
"Pity. They're handy in a tight spot," remarked Gimli.

When night fell, Aragorn snuck in with some Athelas, and healed Pippin and Faramir of their wounds. He helped various others, and he was unaware that Denethor stood, watching him the whole time.
"So," he thought to himself. "This is the man who lusts the throne of Gondor. I'll keep an eye on him. He has swayed the minds of the others, but I won't fall prey to his ranger tricks."
He left, and the sun rose the next day.
A council was held as to what was to be done of Mordor.
"Ten thousand Orcs now lay between Frodo and Sam," said Aragorn.
"Then we are doomed," muttered Theoden.
"Not if we do something of it," replied Eomer.
"We must rally what army we have left and March against the army of Mordor," said Gandalf.
"Our army could give Frodo and Sam a chance to get through Mordor unseen," said Aragorn.
"A diversion," said Legolas.
Denethor finally spoke.
"And why should I trust my men with a mere ranger? A man who knows nothing of Gondor?"
"Father, he is no mere ranger," said Boromir.
"He is the lost son of the Dunedain. He must take his place upon the throne."
"Madness! He has turned my own son against me!"
"The only madness is the kind that spews from your tongue. See reason, Denethor. You are not the king," said Gandalf.
With Denethor's disapproval, the army set out.
The few Ents left to go check up on Fangorn, and Gandalf knew in his heart that they may have been marching to their doom.

Frodo and Sam walked among a passage, unaware of the glossy eyes that followed them.
Shelob had indeed been following them, awaiting to kill them.
Shelob sensed a great power to Frodo, and this was in fact the Ring calling out.
She would kill him first. Then the fat one. She'd throw put their carcasses, and Gollum could have the Ring for all she cared.
The spider crept among the shadows, waiting to attack.
Then at once, she leapt onto Frodo and stung him in his back, causing him to grunt and foam at the mouth.
She began to weave him in a web, and Sam screamed in horror.
"Let him go!" he shouted, drawing his sword.
He also grabbed his cooking pan, brandishing it wildly.
"Let him go, filth! You won't touch him again! Come on, come and finish it!"
Shelob, intrigued by the hobbit's bravery, set Frodo's limp body aside.
She ran at him, and Sam swung down hard on her leg, casing her to stumble. Little damage was made.
She pinned him against the wall and attempted to bite him, but Sam kicked at her face and climbed on top of her and stabbed at her back, attempting to impale her.
The hide of Shelob was so thick, no blade could have penetrated it.
Indeed it was her eyes that were vulnerable.
Shelob spun wildly, knocking him off her back.
Sam landed on his back with a grunt, and grabbed the phial, raising it.
A light shone so bright from it that Shelob jumped and squealed in terror.
"Ha! Back!" yelled Sam.
The spider did no such thing.
She indeed leapt at him, and attempted to crush him with her enormous body.
Sam merely lifted his sword and impaled her on it.
Shelob screeched in the utmost pain, and pulled off the blade.
She stumbled and ran away to the caverns, likely never to be seen again.
Sam made sure she was gone, and ran to Frodo's body.
"Mr Frodo?"
He pulled the webs from his eyes, and saw the limp and lifeless face of his friend.
A tear ran down his cheek.
"Mr Frodo... wake up," he said as his voice cracked.
"Mr Frodo, don't you go where I can't follow."
Sam wept, bowing his head for Frodo.
"Not alive," he sniffled. "Dead."
He sat his head against Frodo's limp chest and sobbed.
He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Sting's blade shined a blue shade.
Orcs were near.