Daughter of the Dark (War of the Rings: Books 1-3)

Weathertop

Lyraelle's POV

It was approaching late afternoon when I finally managed to convince Strider to let the hobbits stop for a brief break. I watched as they flopped down on the ground, feeling sorry for them. Strider and I were used to lengthy periods of walking in the wilderness, but I'd bet my share of dragon treasure that these hobbits were used to brisk mid-day walks at best.

We ate a quick meal and set off again and didn't stop till nightfall. I helped set up camp and demanded that Strider go to sleep while I stayed up with my sword on my lap.

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It was about a fortnight and a half later when I finally caught sight of our destination. Weathertop. I sighed in relief as the ground beneath my feet began to feel more solid. We had just spent the last few days trudging through the marshlands and were all covered in mud.

It was nice to enjoy silence as I kept watch that night. The Neekerbreekers that made their home in the marshland were anything but quiet! I noticed Strider watching me carefully as I perched on a nearby rock. He kept trying to  take over the watch each night and while I appreciated the gesture, there was no point. My link with my father made it impossible for me to rest. My body just didn't need it. Though I still hadn't figured out a way to tell Strider this...or who I really was - he would find out sooner or later, but I wanted to enjoy the time remaining that I had while it lasted. It had been unbelievably nice to pretend for just a little while that I was simply a barmaid at the local tavern; or just a friend of Gandalf's sent to help these men on their journey; not the daughter of a vile and malicious monster!

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We reached Weathertop the next day just as the sun was setting. We searched the area and when we reached the top and I gasped in shock. The place was completely scorched. I caught something out of the corner of my eye and reached down to pick up the pristine rock; which had somehow managed to stay untouched by flame. It was a message from Gandalf, who must have reached Weathertop before us. I felt a sense of fear wash over me as I realized he must have been attacked by the Nazgul. I hoped he was alright!

We set the hobbits up in a small cave that we found tucked away in the side of the hill. Strider then handed them his smaller knives for protection before the two of us set off to go look around and make sure the surrounding area was safe.

Barely an hour had passed before I saw a bright orange flame off in the direction of the hobbits. What are those fools up to now! I thought as Strider and I ran back towards them. The foolish hobbits were going to give away our location!

Sure enough, Strider and I had barely started on the climb back to the top of Weathertop when a shrill scream pierced the night. Strider stooped down and grabbed a branch and hurriedly worked on making a fire to light his branch - I, on the other hand continued to run to the top of Weathertop, where I could just make out the hobbits huddled with their backs against one another.

All around them, I could see the Nazgul creeping slowly up to the hill and towards the hobbits. I sped up, thanking the Valar for gracing me with the gift of speed and managed to reached Frodo and the others just as the Nazgul started to approach them. I was just about to jump in and distract the Nazgul, when a glint of gold caught my attention.

"No, Frodo!" I cried out...but it was too late...the One was out...and on Frodo's finger. I immediately felt myself get drawn alongside Frodo into the Spirit Realm.

I fought against the blinding pain in my head as I struggled to get to Frodo in time. But every step seemed to bring me further away from my destination. I gritted my teeth, knowing it was all just mind games. But battling my father was almost impossible; as several dead foes would attest to.