Later on in the evening of the next day, Strider had spotted an ancient structure in the distance that stood on top of an old grey hill. "Amon Sul. Weathertop. It was once a watchtower but it was soon destroyed by the Witch King of Angmar and his allies. We shall head there and set up a camp for the evening."
I had almost slipped out of the ranger's arms but he caught me quickly before I reached the cold, hard ground. "It hurts....It...hurts." I moaned. "I know that you are in a great deal of pain, Brianna. But, you must bear with me. You must be brave."
"N-N-No." I coughed hoarsely. My skin was a pale yellow and my dark green eyes grew even darker.
"May I please see her for a moment?" Asked Frodo. He seized my bony, dry hands and held them as tightly as he could. I could feel his hands trembling on top of mine. "Oh no. Your hands are cold. You look awful. Is there anything, anything, I can do to make you feel any better?" Frodo asked me in a soft spoken tone. "No." I wheezed. "You have to be strong, my darling. My little lamb. My poor little lamb. Will you promise me that you will be brave for me?" I nodded my head weakly. "Mmm hmm." I responded. Tears slowly poured out of my eyes like water dripping from a faucet. I had a terrible coughing fit and I wheezed uncontrollably. "I know that you will." Frodo kissed me on both of my cheeks and caressed them with his gentle and tender hands. "My Poor Little Lamb." Tears swelled up in his eyes. "Little...Lamb. Little...Lamb." I whispered. "Yes, Brianna. You are my little lamb." Frodo frowned.