Aragorn only had to tell us to shut up seven more times that day before we finally did. He didn’t actually use the words ‘shut up’, he said it a lot nicer, but it meant the same basic thing.
We were staying at the foot of Weathertop that night. Strider, Merry, and ‘Mr. Underhill’ went up to investigate the top of the hill, but we didn’t go with as it was a long climb and we had already walked more today than any other day in our lives and were just plain tired—and more than a little hungry, too. We also stayed back while Sam and Pippin went to get some water and things.
"I thought going on an adventure in Middle Earth would be fun." I moaned, "What I wouldn’t give for my prec-um, my car, now."
"My feet are killing me!" Katy complained.
"Yeah, and just wait until Frodo gets hurt, and Aragorn pushes us along even faster!"
"We didn’t even get much of a lunch…"
Our tales of woe were interrupted when Pippin came back. "We found some footprints by the stream!" He told us.
"Really." I said, not much interested in anything but food and sleep, "that’s nice, Pip. Now why don’t you go find some rocks to play with?" It’s too bad that I didn’t pay any attention to what he was saying, or I could’ve stopped them from walking all over the prints, and maybe have saved us all a lot of trouble, but I was too cranky to care at the time.
Poor Pippin was trying to understand what I had meant by that last statement when Sam walked up to see what was keeping Pippin. They left again together, Pippin giving up his futile quest to understand my comment.
Not too long later Aragorn and the other hobbits came down. He tried to make out the prints, but he couldn’t because of Sam and Pip’s meddling. We ate a supper and went immediately to sleep.
I woke up some time later with a really bad feeling in my gut. At first I thought I was just sick, then I remembered what was about to happen. Katy woke up with a shiver only seconds later, apparently she was getting the same evil vibes as me. We all looked around (the hobbits were already up, and I wasn’t sure if Aragorn had even gone to sleep), and saw dark shapes on the hill coming toward us.
Even though we had a fire—according to Aragorn, Ring wraiths are afraid of fire—Katy and I were immobilized by fear (I should add so were Merry and Pippin, so we weren’t the only wimps). We had never seen anything scarier than school hot lunches; those were nothing compared to this! I hadn’t really been scared when I read about the Ring wraiths in the book, but then, they hadn’t attacked me either. I scooted closer to Strider.
Everyone knows about this attack whether they’ve watched the film, read the book, or both. To make a long story (well, not that long, it really only took about ten minutes I’d guess) short, we didn’t interfere in this at all… Too scared. I picked up a flaming branch and waved it around a little in front of my face, but I didn’t actually go after any of them, just stayed by the fire. They weren’t really interested in me anyway and I didn’t see any reason why I should try to make them.
In the end Frodo still got stabbed, Sam still yelled "Frodo!" (much to my relief because I wouldn’t have to try to remember to call him ‘Mr. Underhill’ anymore), Frodo still got sick, and Aragorn made us fly (not literally of course) to Rivendell in haste.
We started off again the next morning and Frodo got to ride on Bill (that’s the pony, if you didn’t know). After about an hour I started getting jealous of lucky little Frodo who didn’t have to walk. When I bothered Aragorn about this, he shook his head as if to say ‘why me?’, and told me that when I get stabbed by a Morgul-knife I can ride on Bill too. I decided it wasn’t worth it, Bill’s back is kind of lumpy anyway.
"Can I hold Narsil?" I asked Aragorn some time later.
"No," He exclaimed in an uncharacteristic bout of childishness, "mine!"
"Why no—ot??" I whined.
"Because," He said, quickly thinking of an excuse, "You’ll break it."
"It’s already broken." I said.
"Exactly," He agreed, "So it’s already weakened and it will be easier for you to break it again!"
I looked upset, and Aragorn hoped I wouldn’t talk to him for a while. No such luck, barely a minute later, I looked at him eagerly again, "Can I hold Bob, then?"
"What?" Aragorn asked in confusion.
"Can I hold Bob?" I repeated.
"What are you talking about? Who’s Bob?" Aragorn was a very confused Ranger.
"Your Ranger sword, Bob," I told him. He should know this, it is his sword.
"I don’t have a sword named Bob." He told me.
"You have a ranger sword, right?" I wanted to clear this up.
"Yes…" He replied slowly.
"And it’s name is Bob." I told him.
"No it’s not! Why would I name my sword Bob?"
"What is it’s name then?"
"Actually, I never really gave it a name…"
"Well, I took care of it for you then, it’s name is Bob." I declared. Aragorn sighed.
A few minutes later: "So can I hold it?" I asked eagerly again.
"You can hold it if you do not bother me anymore today." Strider said.
"But that’ll be too hard!" I complained.
"Keep it up and you won’t get to hold Bob." Strider warned me.
This guy is learning way too fast. I bit my tongue the rest of the day. And I didn’t even complain to Strider that my feet were sore. That night was the new best day of my life! We stopped for the night, and Aragorn let me hold Bob! He grudgingly handed it to me, but still, I got to hold his really awesome sword!
"Strider’s such a nice guy, isn’t he Katy?" I asked rhetorically, holding up Bob.
"I wanna hold Bob too!" Katy complained.
Aragorn sighed, "Fine, you can hold ‘Bob’ next."