Where is shelob lair

History Talk 0. Do you like this video? Play Sound. This article refers to the place itself. For other namesakes, see Shelob's Lair disambiguation. Foreign Language Translated name Danish Shelobs hule.

IX: " Shelob's Lair ". Fan Feed 1 Sauron 2 Melkor 3 Gandalf. Universal Conquest Wiki. Surely there was the Lord of the Nine Riders returned to earth to lead his ghastly host to battle? Here, yes here indeed was the haggard king whose cold hand had smitten down the Ring- bearer with his deadly knife. Even as these thoughts pierced him with dread and held him bound as with a spell, the Rider halted suddenly, right before the entrance of the bridge, and behind him all the host stood still.

There was a pause, a dead silence. Maybe it was the Ring that called to the Wraith-lord, and for a moment he was troubled, sensing some other power within his valley. This way and that turned the dark head helmed and crowned with fear, sweeping the shadows with its unseen eyes. Frodo waited, like a bird at the approach of a snake, unable to move.

And as he waited, he felt, more urgent than ever before, the command that he should put on the Ring. But great as the pressure was, he felt no inclination now to yield to it. He knew that the Ring would only betray him, and that he had not, even if he put it on, the power to face the Morgul-king-not yet. There was no longer any answer to that command in his own will, dismayed by terror though it was, and he felt only the beating upon him of a great power from outside.

It took his hand, and as Frodo watched with his mind, not willing it but in suspense as if he looked on some old story far away , it moved the hand inch by inch towards the chain upon his neck.

Then his own will was stirred; slowly it forced the hand back. Cold and hard it seemed as his grip closed on it: the phial of Galadriel, so long treasured, and almost forgotten till that hour. As he touched it, for a while all thought of the Ring was banished from his mind. He sighed and bent his head. At that moment the Wraith-king turned and spurred his horse and rode across the bridge, and all his dark host followed him in deathly silence. Maybe the elven-hoods defied his unseen eyes, and the mind of his small enemy; being strengthened, had turned aside his thought.

But he was in haste. And just as he passed under where Frodo and his companions lay hid, the stifling quiet was shattered by a horn giving forth a defiant cry, though small it seemed after the thunderings and cries of Orodruin and Minas Morgul. And still obstinate in its resistance, proud in its rebellion against the dark clamours it sounded, and following it came a shouting of many men, singing battle-hymns that had not been heard in that valley since the coming of Ar-Pharazon to demand servitude from The Dark Lord.

Frodo and Faramir both looked to see. And there, coming up the valley where they had not long crept, a wall of steel could be seen marching up the gleaming road. Here and there he caught the gleam of spears and helmets and above them rose a white banner, true white that is, which shone all the more brilliantly amid the pale sickly glow emanating from the Morgul City. Suddenly made fully aware of the peril of their position, Frodo quickly drew his frail grey hood close upon his head, and turned to Gollum.

They followed him on to the climbing ledge. It was little to the liking of any of them, not even after facing so many other perils; but it did not last long. They dared not look back, but again the scream of the Wraith-King pierced through them as they fled and soon the path reached a rounded angle where the mountain-side swelled out again, and there it suddenly entered a narrow opening in the rock. They had come to the first stair that Gollum had spoken of. Lots of steps. Must be careful! Care was certainly needed.

Frodo and Sam at first felt easier, having now a wall on either side, but the stairway was almost as steep as a ladder, and as they climbed up and up, they became more and more aware of the long black fall behind them.

And the steps were narrow, spaced unevenly, and often treacherous: they were worn and smooth at the edges, and some were broken, and some cracked as foot was set upon them. They struggled on, until at last they were clinging with desperate fingers to the steps ahead, and forcing their aching knees to bend and straighten; and ever as the stair cut its way deeper into the sheer mountain the rocky walls rose higher and higher above their heads. The carrion cry ripped through the sons of Gondor, but the steel wall did not fail nor falter at its sounding.

Rather their singing railed and raged and they pressed forward. From their forefront, Boromir looked to either side of him and felt pride and humility swell in him. Pride that he led these men; that behind each broad black shield emblazoned with the White Tree was a true man of Gondor; that wielding each tall spear was a heart of courage and defiance; and they were his to command.

And humility that every one of these men had willingly placed their trust in him; pledged their swords to him; given their lives over to him. Boromir saw the host clothed in night before them, and with a shout the men around him redressed their line, forming a spearhead with Boromir at the tip.

Behind him was carried the white banner of Minas Tirith and on either side spears were lowered, so that their shield wall bristled as they approached their foes. Ahead the Lord of the Ringwraiths sat motionless upon his black steed, but issued another deathly cry and at that signal the black host surged forward. The men of Gondor braced themselves for the oncoming wave, leaning into their shields and planting their feet.

Just as the Orcs reached their target, a hail of shafts fell among at them, cutting them down as they ran. The spears of the shield-wall finished off any stragglers and took two steps forward before rooting themselves again.

Once more the archers behind them loosed and once again the sons of Gondor advanced. The front rank stepped over the fallen Orcs and the second also, but the third dispatched any survivors with their swords.

Again the bows of Gondor sang and again the line advanced. But the press of Orcs was too great for their arrows to thin out for long, and first one, then another, then a pair and a clutch engaged the shield-wall.

Before long the entire line was pressed and the archers could not miss for the mass of targets. But still the sable host came and still the black shields held. The first rank did naught but brace their shields and hold back the tide, and the second reached over them with spears and slew all they could reach.

And still the tide came rushing in, until the press was so great the slain Orcs did not fall, but were held up but the crush of those behind pushing into the black shields. Leaving only defiant cries behind, he was dragged into the crush of Orcs and never seen again.

The shield wall reformed, a man from the second row stepping forward without hesitation and joined his shield with those to his either side. And ever more the minions of the Morgul King came crashing on.

Then with no warning the tide abated, and the black shields surged forward, catching many and more in their momentum. And they gained four, five, six paces and passed over the fallen bodies of their foes. Looking at the corses of those they overtook, the men of Gondor could see protruding from them shafts feathered with dark green fletches, and Boromir knew that his trap had been sprung.

For in the shade of the vale sides, having set aside their brown and green garbs for those of grey and black, had placed themselves unawares the Rangers of Ithilien, using the clamour and clash of forces to Secret themselves along the flanks of the forces of Morgul and let fly at the moment of their choosing.

And the shafts of the rangers cut into the flanks of the Orcs, cutting them down as a sickle at harvest and leaving the path of the black shields once again clear. And the waves of that storm buffeted and battered the forces of the Morgul King, whose forward ranks quailed and fled before the tide. But the Orcs held in fear nothing greater than their dread King, save the Dark Lord himself, and the terror of him stayed the flight of those in the front and urged forward the next ranks into the fray.

And the tide of black shields reached its zenith and could not prevail against the cold, hard horror that radiated from the Witch-King atop his dark steed. For the wraith merely lighted his dread gauntlet and pointed forward, and all his servants hurried to obey, and the tide was turned.

Looking on this, Boromir saw that the day had been lost, as would always have been the case for he had never hoped to prevail. And as he beheld the might of the enemy, he saw climbing a rise to his left several figures, hooded and cloaked. A stray gust tugged at the hood of the foremost of them and the Captain of the White Tower recognised Mablung. Even as he watched, they slipped behind a rocky outcrop and it was as though the mountainside had swallowed them whole.

For above them Boromir saw a handful of dim forms clinging to the sheer rock face, slowly climbing where they should not be able to, and he knew that it was Frodo and with a sinking heart he knew what would need to be done. Boromir turned to the man behind him and clasped his arm. Lead our men away from this accursed place.

There is no purpose to be found in all our deaths, we have taught them that even their own roads are not yet safe. Now go, I will hear no dispute. Take all you can back to the White City, she will need every bow and spear before the end. Clever hobbits to climb so high, very clever hobbits. Dizzy and very tired Sam, and Frodo following with Faramir last of all, crawled up the last step, and sat down rubbing their legs and knees.

They were in a deep dark passage that seemed still to go up before them, though at a gentler slope and without steps. Gollum did not let them rest long. Rest when we get to the top of next stair.

Not yet. Sam groaned. We have climbed the Straight Stair. Next comes the Winding Stair. Very nearly, if they get through. O yes! Frodo shivered. The climb had made him sweat, but now he felt cold and clammy, and there was a chill draught in the dark passage, blowing down from the invisible heights above. The hobbit looked over the edge of the ledge and saw the torches of the Morgul host on the move again. The passage seemed to go on for miles, and always the chill air flowed over them, rising as they went on to a bitter wind.

The mountains seemed to be trying with their deadly breath to daunt them, to turn them back from the secrets of the high places, or to blow them away into the darkness behind. They only knew that they had come to the end, when suddenly they felt no wall at their right hand. They could see very little. Great black shapeless masses and deep grey shadows loomed above them and about them, but now and again a dull red light flickered up under the lowering clouds, and for a moment they were aware of tall peaks, in front and on either side, like pillars holding up a vast sagging roof.

They seemed to have climbed up many hundreds of feet, on to a wide shelf. A cliff was on their left and a chasm on their right. Gollum led the way close under the cliff. For the present they were no longer climbing, but the ground was now more broken and dangerous in the dark, and there were blocks and lumps of fallen stone in the way.

Their going was slow and cautious. How many hours had passed since they had entered the Morgul Vale they could any longer guess. The night seemed endless. At length they were once more aware of a wall looming up, and once more a stairway opened before them. Again they halted, and again they began to climb. It was a long and weary ascent; but this stairway did not delve into the mountain-side.

Here the huge cliff face sloped backwards, and the path like a snake wound to and fro across it. At one point it crawled sideways right to the edge of the dark chasm, and Frodo glancing down saw below him as a vast deep pit the great ravine at the head of the Morgul Valley. Down in its depths glimmered like a glow-worm thread the wraith-road from the dead city to the Nameless Pass. He turned hastily away, his stomach churning within him.

Looking now the other way, Frodo could see much of the path they had come, and what he saw sent daggers of fear into him. Faramir, look there! His two companions turned and looked and saw that coming up the stairs behind them were a handful of figures, far below and distant but rapidly making up the gap between them. But we needs to go now precious, yes!

With trembling limbs they climbed, driven by fear and desperation, for while they knew not who followed them, all they knew it would be ill if their pursuers caught them. And still on and up the stairway bent and crawled, until at last with a final flight, short and straight, it climbed out again on to another level. Dimly the hobbits could discern tall piers and jagged pinnacles of stone on either side, between which were great crevices and fissures blacker than the night, where forgotten winters had gnawed and carved the sunless stone.

And now the red light in the sky seemed stronger; though they could not tell whether a dreadful morning were indeed coming to this place of shadow, or whether they saw only the flame of some great violence of Sauron in the torment of Gorgoroth beyond.

Still far ahead, and still high above, Frodo, looking up, saw, as he guessed, the very crown of that bitter road. Against the sullen redness of the eastern sky a cleft was outlined in the topmost ridge, narrow, deep-cloven between two black shoulders; and on either shoulder was a horn of stone.

He paused and looked more attentively despite the urgency of their errand. The horn upon the left was tall and slender; and in it burned a red light, or else the red light in the land beyond was shining through a hole.

He saw now: it was a black tower poised above the outer pass. But hobbits must try some way. This may be least watched. I think you ought to rest now, Mr. If not, then we cannot outrun them and we shall need all our strength if we are to face them.

Frodo nodded. The terrors of the land beyond, and the deed to be done there, seemed remote, too far off yet to trouble him. All his mind was bent on getting through or over this impenetrable wall and guard. If once he could do that impossible thing, then somehow the errand would be accomplished, or so it seemed to him in that dark hour of weariness, still labouring in the stony shadows under Cirith Ungol.

In a dark crevice between two great piers of rock they sat down: Frodo and Sam a little way within. There they took what they expected would be their last meal before they went down into the Nameless Land, maybe the last meal they would ever eat together. Some of the food of Gondor they ate, and wafers of the waybread of the Elves. But of their water they were sparing and took only enough to moisten their dry mouths. Gollum had refused their food, though he had, as usual, accepted a mouthful of water; and then he had seemed to curl up for a sleep.

Weary and aching from their climb, it did not take long before each of them slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep, even Faramir, who had promised to take the first watch, found himself unable to keep himself from drifting, and not even the threat of those that followed could keep them from sleep.

Sam awoke with a start, pulled suddenly from his slumber and at once he was wide awake. 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. O nice hobbits! 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. Sam felt a bit remorseful, though not more trustful.

But Mr. But what were you doing? Is it today or tomorrow? Then he went over to his master and knelt next to him. Wake up! So we must be walking on. The last lap. Frodo drew a deep breath and sat up.

Did you get any food? Have you had any rest? Sam clicked his tongue, but restrained himself. But now we seem to have come to the point, you and I, Smeagol.

Tell me. Can we find the rest of the way by ourselves? And one day I may reward you, I or those that remember me. O no indeed. Smeagol must go on. No rest. No food. It may indeed have been daytime now, as Gollum said, but none of them could see little difference, unless, perhaps, the heavy sky above was less utterly black, more like a great roof of smoke; while instead of the darkness of deep night, which lingered still in cracks and holes, a grey blurring shadow shrouded the stony world about them.

They passed on, Gollum in front and the hobbits now side by side, up the long ravine between the piers and columns of torn and weathered rock, standing like huge unshapen statues on either hand. There was no sound.

Some way ahead, a mile or so, perhaps, was a great grey wall, a last huge upthrusting mass of mountain-stone. Darker it loomed, and steadily it rose as they approached, until it towered up high above them, shutting out the view of all that lay beyond.

Deep shadow lay before its feet. Sam sniffed the air. That smell! Faramir nodded. Presently they were under the shadow, and there in the midst of it they saw the opening of a cave.

And out of it indeed came a stench, not the sickly odour of decay in the meads of Morgul, but a foul reek, as if filth unnameable were piled and hoarded in the dark within. Gollum bit off his words, raising his head and tilting it slightly, as a hound that has caught a scent half-remembered.

His eyes widened and he flung himself to the ground. At the same moment, Frodo felt cold tendrils creep round his heart as he heard the falling of heavy boots behind him. And that doom will surely fall if any man of Gondor finds you without the guardianship of Frodo.

And may death find you swiftly, within Gondor or without, if you do not well serve him. Frodo, all hope lies now with you. Go, be gone from this place.

As one the hobbits turned and ran, following Gollum into the tunnel and so they passed inside. In a few steps they were in utter and impenetrable dark. Not since the lightless passages of Moria had Frodo or Sam known such darkness, and if possible here it was deeper and denser. There, there were airs moving, and echoes, and a sense of space. Here the air was still, stagnant, heavy, and sound fell dead. They slowed their pace to a walk, for it was too dangerous to maintain their faster pace, and as the hobbits went it was as it were in a black vapour wrought of veritable darkness itself that, as it was breathed, brought blindness not only to the eyes but to the mind, so that even the memory of colours and of forms and of any light faded out of thought.

Even memory of Faramir behind them, and the Nazgul he fought faded from their minds, such was the spell wrought on them. Night always had been, and always would be, and night was all. But for a while they could still feel, and indeed the senses of their feet and fingers at first seemed sharpened almost painfully.

The walls felt, to their surprise, smooth, and the floor, save for a step now and again, was straight and even, going ever up at the same stiff slope. The tunnel was high and wide, so wide that, though the hobbits walked abreast, only touching the side-walls with their outstretched hands, they were separated, cut off alone in the darkness.

Gollum had gone in first and seemed to be only a few steps ahead. While they were still able to give heed to such things, they could hear his breath hissing and gasping just in front of them.

But after a time their senses became duller, both touch and hearing seemed to grow numb, and they kept on, groping, walking, on and on, mainly by the force of the will with which they had entered, will to go through and desire to come at last to the high gate beyond. Before they had gone very far, perhaps, but time and distance soon passed out of his reckoning, Sam on the right, feeling the wall, was aware that there was an opening at the side: for a moment he caught a faint breath of some air less heavy, and then they passed it by.

After that, first he on the right, and then Frodo on the left, passed three or four such openings, some wider, some smaller; but there was as yet no doubt of the main way, for it was straight, and did not turn, and still went steadily up. But how long was it, how much more of this would they have to endure, or could they endure?

The breathlessness of the air was growing as they climbed; and now they seemed often in the blind dark to sense some resistance thicker than the foul air.

As they thrust forward they felt things brush against their heads, or against their hands, long tentacles, or hanging growths perhaps: they could not tell what they were. And still the stench grew. Night always had been, and always would be, and night was all. The walls felt, to their surprise, smooth, and the floor, save for a step now and again, was straight and even, going ever up at the same stiff slope.

The tunnel was high and wide, so wide that, though the hobbits walked abreast, only touching the side-walls with their outstretched hands, they were separated, cut off alone in the darkness.

After that, first he on the right, and then Frodo on the left, passed three or four such openings, some wider, some smaller; but there was as yet no doubt of the main way, for it was straight, and did not turn, and still went steadily up The breathlessness of the air was growing as they climbed; and now they seemed often in the blind dark to sense some resistance thicker than the foul air.

As they thrust forward they felt things brush against their heads, or against their hands, long tentacles, or hanging growths perhaps: they could not tell what they were.

And still the stench grew.