Ringwraiths Appear

"Robbers! Bandits! Scum! Bastards! What do you want?"

On each of the two horses, two Hobbits were laid across, their hands tied behind their backs and their feet firmly bound, cursing loudly as they lay on the horses' backs.

Hobbits are peaceful, hospitable, and kind-hearted. Compared to other races in Middle-earth, they are undoubtedly much kinder, so their insults are not fancy and they just repeat the same few words over and over.

"Russell, isn't this... a bit inappropriate?"

Aragorn glanced back, feeling a bit distraught. Now he didn't have to worry about causing misunderstandings, because no matter what he said, the four Hobbits wouldn't believe a word he said.

"It is a bit noisy!" Russell nodded, walked to the horses, tore the blanket into shreds, and stuffed a piece into each horse's mouth.

Now, it was completely quiet!

Aragorn was even more distraught. "That's not what I meant. I'm friends with Gandalf, and I'll be friends with them too. We... we should take the four of them to Rivendell in a gentler way, not like this, do you understand what I mean?"

"I understand! But understanding won't help; you have to talk to them and see if they understand!"

Who do you think caused this?

Aragorn "..."

"Aragorn, I understand what you're saying, but that's not important. Once we get to Rivendell, all misunderstandings will be cleared up, and we'll all be good friends again." Russell clapped his hands, indicating that it was no big deal.

"Can..."

"There's no 'but' about it. Men should be decisive. We're being chased, time is of the essence, we can't afford to dawdle."

"Sigh, I remember you weren't like this before!"

"There's nothing I can do, I've lost my memory!"

Russell knew that it would be more reasonable for Aragorn to gain their trust first, but the Ringwraiths had been following the four Hobbits, and the hotel was a dangerous place, leaving no time for them to bond.

As Russell said, all misunderstandings will be cleared up in Rivendell. Since that's the case, what's the point of fighting the Ringwraiths to the death? It's best to avoid them if possible.

"Russell, you need to be mentally prepared, it will be very dangerous for us on this journey."

"It's alright! The weak can't beat me, so there's no need to be afraid. As for the strong, I can't beat them, so being afraid won't help..."

Russell's words made a lot of sense. Aragorn was speechless, feeling that something was wrong, but he didn't know how to refute it, and his brows furrowed even more.

The group left the territory of Buri, traversed high mountains and forests, and traveled through a vast grassland.

It was still a long way to Rivendell, a journey that would take at least ten days by horseback, let alone with four Hobbits. Moreover, without the cover of the forest, their movement across the open plains would be extremely conspicuous, increasing the likelihood of being caught by the Ringwraiths.

The four Hobbits are named Frodo, Sam, Pippin, and Merry. Frodo is the Frodo of the group, Sam is his Gardener and childhood friend, and the other two are his distant cousins.

After spending a few days together, Frodo and his companions were freed from their ropes and gradually became familiar with Russell and Aragorn, realizing that the latter had no intention of harming them.

With the One Ring within reach, Russell and Aragorn never made any move to touch it. In addition, Aragorn told stories about his relationship with Gandalf, which quickly brought them closer and earned the initial trust of the four.

After traversing the plains, the terrain gradually rises, and the group arrives at a rolling hilly area. On the distant hills, an abandoned tower can be vaguely seen, gazing into the distance like a watchtower, bathed in sunlight, shining like a crown.

"That's Windy Peak, also known as the famous Amon Sul!"

Aragorn's expression was complicated. The one who built the tower was his ancestor Isildur, a name full of glory, but those who came after him had tarnished that glory, and he had been running away from it, feeling unworthy of it.

Aragorn was overwhelmed with thoughts, as if a huge boulder was pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. He wanted to vent but didn't know who to confide in.

"Russell, do you know, I..."

He stopped mid-sentence, as Russell and the Frodo three had already walked away.

As night deepened, dark clouds shrouded the sky, and the wind carried a dampness, suggesting that rain was likely. After discussing it, Aragorn and Russell decided to spend the night in the tower.

"Russell, we'll take turns keeping watch at night, you'll be in charge of the second half."

Aragorn said dejectedly, "I finally mustered up the courage to talk to someone about my stress, but before I could get into a real conversation, the person I was supposed to talk to ran away. I almost choked on my own blood."

A deep darkness enveloped the land, and the distant woods swayed in the wind, their rustling sounds like the cold laughter of ghosts, sending shivers down one's spine.

"Russell, tell us a story!" The four Hobbits a chill run down their spines and were wide awake.

Compared to the serious Aragorn, Russell was more popular among the four. His short stories were profound and full of meaning, making them irresistible.

"I have to work the night shift, so I can only tell you one story. After you hear it, go to sleep quietly."

"Alright then, one is fine, it's better than none."

As Aragorn was about to leave, he saw Russell was about to tell a story, so he instinctively stopped and listened intently.

Russell cleared his throat; storytelling was his forte. "In the dark and deep Rivendell, a young man Aragorn slept soundly in the grass. To fully immerse himself in nature, he shed the clamor of the world..."

"What does 'the clamor of the mortal world' mean?" This was a rather profound question, Frodo and the others didn't quite understand it.

"It's clothes!"

Aragorn: "..."

Suddenly becoming the protagonist of the story, and being naked, he knew that what followed would be anything but pleasant, but he still refrained from interrupting and wanted to continue listening.

Just then, a little mushroom-picking sprite passed by, counting as he picked mushrooms. 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4...

"After the little elf left, another one came, also collecting and counting. 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 4... 5, 6, 7, 8..."

Frodo and his companions were completely bewildered. Aragorn was at his wit's end, but he couldn't admit that he understood. He coughed lightly and said, "Russell, I must remind you, the elves have magic, and they might be listening to your story too."

"Really? Are elves that bored?" Russell exclaimed in surprise, then shrugged and said nonchalantly, "Elves are a long-lived race. They've seen all sorts of things. It's just a bedtime story. They probably won't take it to heart."

"That's not necessarily true..."

Aragorn muttered to himself, "Elves are all petty. Ever since I started dating Arwen, her father Elrond has been giving me the cold shoulder and finding fault with everything I do. In the end, he even kicked me out of Rivendell."

Just then, the sound of horses' hooves, sometimes near and sometimes far, suddenly rang out. In the darkness, the muffled roars grew closer and closer.

Accompanied by the whispers of death, five black shadows appeared, moving at high speed across the gray hillside. They were shrouded in black robes, riding demonic horses, and arrived at the foot of Windy Peak in the blink of an eye.

"The people who were chasing us!" Frodo exclaimed.

Aragorn looked down and met a pair of scarlet eyes. "Are they Ringwraiths? Or have they caught up with us?"

"What should we do? Should we run away?"

"There's no escape. They've blocked our retreat. We have no choice but to fight." Aragorn shook his head.

"Let's go up there, it's going to thunder..." Russell looked up at the sky. The clouds were thick, it would be a waste not to use them.