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datatime: 2022-07-02 13:51:41 Author:Three Gorges media network

A tiro nin, Fanuilos

Sam had fallen to his knees by Frodos head, his senses reeling in the foul stench, his two hands still gripping the hilt of the sword Through the mist before his eyes he was aware dimly of Frodos face and stubbornly he fought to master himself and to drag himself out of the swoon that was upon him Slowly he raised his head and saw her, only a few paces away, eyeing him, her beak drabbling a spittle of venom, and a green ooze trickling from below her wounded eye There she crouched, her shuddering belly splayed upon the ground, the great bows of her legs quivering, as she gathered herself for another spring this time to crush and sting to death: no little bite of poison to still the struggling of her meat this time to slay and then to rend

A Elbereth Gilthoniel

A Elbereth Gilthoniel

A tiro nin, Fanuilos

Even as Sam himself crouched, looking at her, seeing his death in her eyes, a thought came to him, as if some remote voice had spoken and he fumbled in his breast with his left hand, and found what he sought: cold and hard and solid it seemed to his touch in a phantom world of horror, the Phial of Galadriel

But Shelob was not as dragons are, no softer spot had she save only her eyes Knobbed and pitted with corruption was her age old hide, but ever thickened from within with layer on layer of evil growth The blade scored it with a dreadful gash, but those hideous folds could not be pierced by any strength of men, not though Elf or Dwarf should forge the steel or the hand of Beren or of Tin wield it She yielded to the stroke, and then heaved up the great bag of her belly high above Sams head Poison frothed and bubbled from the wound Now splaying her legs she drove her huge bulk down on him again Too soon For Sam still stood upon his feet, and dropping his own sword, with both hands he held the elven blade point upwards, fending off that ghastly roof and so Shelob, with the driving force of her own cruel will, with strength greater than any warriors hand, thrust herself upon a bitter spike Deep, deep it pricked, as Sam was crushed slowly to the ground

Galadriel the crying of the Elves as they walked under the stars in the beloved shadows of the Shire, and the music of the Elves as it came through his sleep in the Hall of Fire in the house of Elrond

Sam clicked his tongue, but restrained himself

O very well, said Sam, have it your own way I dont suppose its so far from the truth And now wed better all be sneaking along together Whats the time? Is it today or tomorrow?

On the near side of him lay, gleaming on the ground, his elven blade, where it had fallen useless from his grasp Sam did not wait to wonder what was to be done, or whether he was brave, or loyal, or filled with rage He sprang forward with a yell, and seized his masters sword in his left hand Then he charged No onslaught more fierce was ever seen in the savage world of beasts where some desperate small creature armed with little teeth alone, will spring upon a tower of horn and hide that stands above its fallen mate

Gollum withdrew himself, and a green glint flickered under his heavy lids Almost spider like he looked now, crouched back on his bent limbs, with his protruding eyes The fleeting moment had passed, beyond recall Sneaking, sneaking Smjagol brings them up secret ways that nobody else could find Tired he is, thirsty he is, yes thirsty and he guides them and he searches for paths, and they say sneak, sneak Very nice friends, O yes my precious, very nice

Its tomorrow, said Gollum, or this was tomorrow when hobbits went to sleep Very foolish, very dangerous if poor Smjagol wasnt sneaking about to watch I think we shall get tired of that word soon, said Sam But never mind Ill wake master up Gently he smoothed the hair back from Frodos brow, and bending down spoke softly to him Wake up, Mr Frodo

Gollum withdrew himself, and a green glint flickered under his heavy lids Almost spider like he looked now, crouched back on his bent limbs, with his protruding eyes The fleeting moment had passed, beyond recall Sneaking, sneaking Smjagol brings them up secret ways that nobody else could find Tired he is, thirsty he is, yes thirsty and he guides them and he searches for paths, and they say sneak, sneak Very nice friends, O yes my precious, very nice

Even as Sam himself crouched, looking at her, seeing his death in her eyes, a thought came to him, as if some remote voice had spoken and he fumbled in his breast with his left hand, and found what he sought: cold and hard and solid it seemed to his touch in a phantom world of horror, the Phial of Galadriel

And with that he staggered to his feet and was Samwise the hobbit, Hamfasts son, again Now come, you filth

And with that he staggered to his feet and was Samwise the hobbit, Hamfasts son, again Now come, you filth

Sam came on He was reeling like a drunken man, but he came on And Shelob cowed at last, shrunken in defeat, jerked and quivered as she tried to hasten from him She reached the hole, and squeezing down, leaving a trail of green yellow slime, she slipped in, even as Sam hewed a last stroke at her dragging legs Then he fell to the ground

Frodo drew a deep breath and sat up The last lap Found any food? Have you had any rest? No food, no rest, nothing for Smjagol, said Gollum Hes a sneak

Galadriel the crying of the Elves as they walked under the stars in the beloved shadows of the Shire, and the music of the Elves as it came through his sleep in the Hall of Fire in the house of Elrond

Sam had fallen to his knees by Frodos head, his senses reeling in the foul stench, his two hands still gripping the hilt of the sword Through the mist before his eyes he was aware dimly of Frodos face and stubbornly he fought to master himself and to drag himself out of the swoon that was upon him Slowly he raised his head and saw her, only a few paces away, eyeing him, her beak drabbling a spittle of venom, and a green ooze trickling from below her wounded eye There she crouched, her shuddering belly splayed upon the ground, the great bows of her legs quivering, as she gathered herself for another spring this time to crush and sting to death: no little bite of poison to still the struggling of her meat this time to slay and then to rend

Frodo drew a deep breath and sat up The last lap Found any food? Have you had any rest? No food, no rest, nothing for Smjagol, said Gollum Hes a sneak

A tiro nin, Fanuilos

o menel palan diriel,

As if his indomitable spirit had set its potency in motion, the glass blazed suddenly like a white torch in his hand It flamed like a star that leaping from the firmament sears the dark air with intolerable light No such terror out of heaven had ever burned in Shelobs face before The beams of it entered into her wounded head and scored it with unbearable pain, and the dreadful infection of light spread from eye to eye She fell back beating the air with her forelegs, her sight blasted by inner lightnings, her mind in agony Then turning her maimed head away, she rolled aside and began to crawl, claw by claw, towards the opening in the dark cliff behind

Galadriel the crying of the Elves as they walked under the stars in the beloved shadows of the Shire, and the music of the Elves as it came through his sleep in the Hall of Fire in the house of Elrond

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Frodo stirred and opened his eyes, and smiled, seeing Sams face bending over him Calling me early arent you, Sam? he said Its dark still

Frodo was lying face upward on the ground and the monster was bending over him, so intent upon her victim that she took no heed of Sam and his cries, until he was close at hand As he rushed up he saw that Frodo was already bound in cords, wound about him from ankle to shoulder, and the monster with her great forelegs was beginning half to lift, half to drag his body away

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