Gleina na Agar: LOTR story (Reader)

Trollshaws

With a harsh wheeze escaping from your lungs, you collapsed to the soft earth and tried to regain your strength. Fighting away the fingers of darkness curling at your vision, you blinked multiple times and propped yourself against a great boulder. The back of your skull ached with every movement, the blood beginning to crust over in defense, though much less improvement graced your arm. Your wound was deep and icy, lashing out pain in great bursts and leaving your muscles little to work with. Thankfully the voice, or the urge to defy your friendship hadn't returned since Weathertop. With little food and sleep, your company had traversed the harsh land towards Rivendell in hopes to save Frodo who was gasping in pain.

Strider knew a break was in order when he saw you stumbling behind the group, trying to just keep your footing straight. Resting under a group of trees and giant stone trolls, he kept the torches lit and his sword close at the sounds of the distant Nazgul. None of you had slept in two days, and Strider gained no rest though he still had the strength to carry Frodo and defend you. It certainly was something to be admired in the man. His quiet courage and unwavering strength tended to your difficulties like a soothing balm to a wound. Sam quickly made up a fire and set Frodo down beside it who's face was pale and twisted.

Seeing your friend in such a bad way, you crawled over to his side to pull his head upon your lap. Frodo tried to scramble away from you with panic in his clouded blue eyes, letting out short gasps. You tried to reassure him, "Frodo, it's ok, it's me! ____! It's me. I'm not going to hurt you." Seeing the honesty behind your gaze, he slowly calmed in your embrace, letting you run your fingers through his dark curls. You knew why he was afraid of you. You sided with the Nazgul. You tried to take the ring from him, and couldn't defend him. Guilt plagued your mind at the thought, and you sighed deeply, "I'm so sorry Frodo... Everything is going to be alright. Please hold on." Knowing Frodo would try his hardest not to give in to the darkness, his skin started to chill beneath your touch. You began to panic a bit, crying out to Strider, "He's going cold!"

Taking a few glances into the wood, Strider knelt at your side to inspect Frodo's wound. You cringed at the sight as Strider bit his lip, "He's passing into the shadow world. He'll soon become a wraith like them."

You panicked at the thought, "W-What!?"

Strider stood and pulled Samwise aside, "Sam, do you know the athelas plant? Kingsfoil?"

Sam nodded, "Kingsfoil, yeah it's a weed!"

"It may help to slow the poison, hurry!" With no other exchange of words the two of them disappeared into the brush, scouring the earth for a sign of the weed and leaving you with Merry and Pippin. None of you felt like conversation was worth while. Too much was at stake in such a small amount of time. Your exhaustion started to creep into your limbs with the quiet of the forest and the crackling of flames. Your eyelids began to flutter, and soon closed in hopes of a bit of sleep. Though your head was heavy, a series of soft cracks and the whinny of a horse startled you.

To your surprise a young, fair woman with dark silky hair leapt down from her white steed to make her way over to you and Frodo. Your first instinct was to defend him, but the sight of Strider at her side calmed your mind.

As she knelt next to you to examine his wound, Pippin whispered the question everyone was thinking, "Who is she?"

"She's an elf." Sam mentioned in awe of the beauty of the maiden.

Falling silent and letting your questions hang in the back of your mind, you simply tried to comfort your friend while the elf shook her head, "He's fading..." You clenched your teeth in worry when Frodo wheezed in pain at the feeling of the athelas paste Strider pressed into his wound. The elf got to her feet, letting Strider take Frodo from your arms, "He's not going to last. We must take him to my father."