HASA Resources

Things of Middle-earth

Frodo's Sword

Type: Weapons

Other Names:
Barrow-blade
sword of the Barrow-downs

Description:

Tom went up to the mound, and looked through the treasures. ...

For each of the hobbits he chose a dagger, long, leaf-shaped, and keen, of marvellous workmanship, damasked with serpent-forms in red and gold. They gleamed as he drew them from their black sheaths, wrought of some strange metal, light and strong, and set with many fiery stones. Whether by some virtue in these sheaths or because of the spell that lay on the mound, the blades seemed untouched by time, unrusted, sharp, glittering in the sun.

'Old knives are long enough as swords for hobbit-people,' he said. 'Sharp blades are good to have, if Shire-folk go walking, east, south, or far away into dark and danger.' Then he told them that these blades were forged many long years ago by Men of Westernesse: they were foes of the Dark Lord, but they were overcome by the evil king of Carn Dûm in the Land of Angmar. ...

Their new weapons they hung on their leather belts under their jackets, feeling them very awkward, and wondering if they would be of any use. Fighting had not before occurred to any of them as one of the adventures in which their flight would land them.

The Fellowship of the Ring, LoTR Book 1, Ch 8, Fog on the Barrow-downs

[Frodo] shut his eyes and struggled for a while; but ... slipped the Ring on....

Immediately..., the shapes became terribly clear. ... [They] rushed towards him. Desperate, he drew his own sword, and it seemed to him that it flickered red, as if it was a firebrand. Two of the figures halted. The third was taller than the others.... In one hand he held a long sword, and in the other a knife.... He sprang forward and bore down on Frodo.

At that moment Frodo threw himself forward on the ground.... At the same time he struck at the feet of his enemy. A shrill cry rang out in the night; and he felt a pain like a dart of poisoned ice pierce his left shoulder. ... With a last effort Frodo, dropping his sword, slipped the Ring from his finger....

The Fellowship of the Ring, LoTR Book 1, Ch 11, A Knife in the Dark

'Look!' [Aragorn] cried; and stooping he lifted from the ground a black cloak that had lain there hidden by the darkness. A foot above the lower hem there was a slash. 'This was the stroke of Frodo's sword,' he said. 'The only hurt that it did to his enemy, I fear; for it is unharmed, but all blades perish that pierce that dreadful King. More deadly to him was the name of Elbereth.'

The Fellowship of the Ring, LoTR Book 1, Ch 12, Flight to the Ford

'Ride forward! Ride!' cried Glorfindel to Frodo.

He did not obey at once, for a strange reluctance seized him. Checking the horse to a walk, he turned and looked back. The Riders seemed to sit upon their great steeds like threatening statues.... Suddenly he knew in his heart that they were silently commanding him to wait. Then at once fear and hatred awoke in him. His hand left the bridle and gripped the hilt of his sword, and with a red flash he drew it.

The Fellowship of the Ring, LoTR Book 1, Ch 12, Flight to the Ford

Suddenly the foremost Rider spurred his horse forward. It checked at the water and reared up. With a great effort Frodo sat upright and brandished his sword.

'Go back!' he cried. 'Go back to the Land of Mordor, and follow me no more!' ... His enemies laughed at him with a harsh and chilling laughter. ...

'The Ring! The Ring!' they cried with deadly voices; and immediately their leader urged his horse forward into the water....

'By Elbereth and Lúthien the Fair,' said Frodo with a last effort, lifting up his sword, 'you shall have neither the Ring nor me!'

Then the leader, who was now half across the Ford, stood up menacing in his stirrups, and raised up his hand. Frodo was stricken dumb. He felt his tongue cleave to his mouth, and his heart labouring. His sword broke and fell out of his shaking hand.

The Fellowship of the Ring, LoTR Book 1, Ch 12, Flight to the Ford

On the morning of the last day Frodo was alone with Bilbo, and the old hobbit pulled out from under his bed a wooden box. He lifted the lid and fumbled inside.

'Here is your sword,' he said. 'But it was broken, you know. I took it to keep it safe but I've forgotten to ask if the smiths could mend it. No time now. So I thought, perhaps, you would care to have this, don't you know?'

He took from the box a small sword in an old shabby leathern scabbard. Then he drew it, and its polished and well-tended blade glittered suddenly, cold and bright. 'This is Sting,' he said, and thrust it with little effort deep into a wooden beam. 'Take it, if you like. I shan't want it again, I expect.'

Frodo accepted it gratefully.

The Fellowship of the Ring, LoTR Book 2, Ch 3, The Ring Goes South

Contributors: Elena Tiriel 3Jul06

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