GWENDOLYN BAGGINS HAS BEEN AN OUTSIDER HER ENTIRE LIFE, so when Bilbo Baggins told her she was adopted, it didn't really come as a surprise. To be honest, her height, length and shape of her ears were a dead giveaway.
When the time comes that her b...
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CHAPTER THREE ━ to the rescue
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"FIRE," STRIDER BREATHED, AS THEY CLIMBED THE STAIRS. "We need fire."
Gwendolyn reached for a branch and put it on fire, not caring if the ranger saw it. Saving her brother was more important than hiding her own identity.
"Here," she said, handing him the branch. The dark haired half-blood ran faster, not bothering to see his astonished expression.
Gwendolyn reached the top of the hill and unsheathed her sword. She lunged towards the first Nazgûl, their swords clashing loudly as they started their duel. Gwen knew she couldn't beat him, the black rider was far too skilled for her, but she had to keep him away from the hobbits.
Strider rushed onto the scene almost immediately after she did, scaring the Ringwraith's away with his torch. Knowing a sword would be of little help, Gwen sheathed it back before firing off fireballs. It didn't take long for the two of them to chase the Nazgûl away and Gwen's eyes widened upon seeing her brother. He laid on the ground, clinging onto his shoulder.
"Frodo!" Gwendolyn exclaimed, running towards her brother and kneeling beside him. "Are you alright?"
Frodo removed his hand and Gwen gasped upon seeing the wound. It didn't look good, not good at all.
"Strider!" she called, binding a piece of cloth around Frodo's shoulder to stop the bleeding. "Strider, what—" She ended mid sentence as she saw the look on his face as he was staring at her. During the fight, the hood of her cloak had fallen off, revealing her slightly pointed ears. "Strider!"
Strider snapped out of his thoughts, kneeled down beside her and examined the wound.
"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade," he said. "This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs elvish medicine."
Strider took Frodo and carried him over his shoulder, making his way down Weathertop.
"Hurry!" the ranger exclaimed, not bothering to look back.
"We are six days from Rivendell," Sam yelled. "He'll never make it!"
"Gandalf," Frodo whispered, his eyes half open. He seemed to be in some sort of trance.
"Hold on, Frodo," Gwen said, looking quite terrified. A shiver running down her spine as Strider put Frodo down. "They're close," she informed the ranger quietly, her eyes flashing around, looking for any movement.
