Lord of the Rings Reread: The Land Of Shadow
Still far away, forty miles at least, they saw Mount Doom, its feet founded in ashen ruin, its huge cone rising to a great height, where its reeking head was swathed in cloud. Its fires were now dimmed, and it stood in smouldering slumber, as threatening and dangerous as a sleeping beast. Behind it there hung a vast shadow, ominous as a thunder-cloud, the veils of Barad-dûr that was reared far way upon a long spur of the Ashen Mountains thrust down from the North. The Dark Power was deep in thought, and the Eye turned inward, pondering tidings of doubt and danger: a bright sword, and a stern and kingly face it saw, and for a while it gave little thought to other things; and all its great stronghold, gate on gate, and tower on tower, was wrapped in a brooding gloom.
Frodo and Sam gazed out in mingled loathing and wonder on this hateful land. Between them and the smoking mountain, and about it north and south, all seemed ruinous and dead, a desert burned and choked. They wondered how the Lord of this realm maintained and fed his slaves and his armies. Yet armies he had. As far as their eyes could reach, along the skirts of the Morgai and away southward, there were camps, some of tents, some ordered like small towns. One of the largest of these was right below them. Barely a mile out into the plain it clustered like some huge nest of insects, with straight dreary streets of huts and long low drab buildings. About it the ground was busy with folk going to and fro; a wide road ran from it south-east to join the Morgul-way, and along it many lines of small black shapes were hurrying.
C is for C i r i t h U n g o l
From the Sindarin for spider’s cleft, Cirith Ungol is a pass near Minas Morgul where Shelob’s lair is located. During the Quest of the Ring, Frodo, Sam, and Gollum use this path to enter Mordor.
In the end the shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty forever beyond its reach.
Lord of the Rings Reread: The Tower Of Cirith Ungol
With a cry Sam leapt across the floor, Sting in hand. The orc wheeled round, but before it could make a move Sam slashed its whip-hand from its arm. Howling with pain and fear but desperate the orc charged head-down at him. Sam’s next blow went wide, and thrown off his balance he fell backwards, clutching at the orc as it stumbled over him. Before he could scramble up he heard a cry and a thud. The orc in its wild haste had tripped on the ladder-head and fallen through the open trap-door. Sam gave no more thought to it. He ran to the figure huddled on the floor. It was Frodo.
He was naked, lying as if in a swoon on a heap of filthy rags: his arm was flung up, shielding his head, and across his side there ran an ugly whip-weal.
"Frodo! Mr. Frodo, my dear!" cried Sam, tears almost blinding him. "It’s Sam, I’ve come!" He half lifted his master and hugged him to his breast. Frodo opened his eyes.
"Am I still dreaming?" he muttered. "But the other dreams were horrible."
"You’re not dreaming at all, Master," said Sam. "It’s real. It’s me. I’ve come."
Frodo being prettier than any of us
Favourite characters : Frodo Baggins (2/6)
Frodo and Sam in the Fellowship of the Ring
The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
Book I, Chapter Three - Three is Company
'But where shall I find courage?' asked Frodo. 'That is what I chiefly need.'
'Courage is found in unlikely places,' said Gildor.