his hand went to his bosom, and slowly he held aloft the Phial of Galadriel. For
a moment it glimmered, faint
as a rising star struggling in the heavy earthward mists and then as it's power
waxed, and hope grew in Frodo's mind, it began to burn, and kindled to a silver
flame, a minute heart of dazzling light.
was there, who was there before Sauron, before the first stone of Barad Dur; and
she served none but herself, drinking the blood of Elves and Men, bloated and
grown fat with endless broodings on her feasts, weaving webs of shadow; for all
living things were her food, and her vomit darkness. None could rival her, Shelob
the Great, last child of Ungoliant to trouble the unhappy world.
so she lived, delighting in her own devices, and feared no assault, nor wrath,
nor any end of her wickedness. Never yet had any fly escaped from Shelob's
webs, and the greater now was her rage and hunger.
Shelob's Lair in The Two Towers
Art work by
Weta Digital and Weta Workshop
Deep, deep it pricked.
such anguish had Shelob ever known, or dreamed of knowing, in all her long world
of wickedness. Not the doughtiest soldier of old Gondor, nor the most savage Orc
entrapped, had ever thus endured her, or set blade to her beloved flesh.
shudder ran through her. Heaving up again wrenching away from the pain, she bent
her writhing limbs beneath her and sprang backwards into a convulsive leap. This
time to to crush and and sting to death... this time to slay and then to rend.
From Shelob's Lair in The Two Towers
Artist is John Howe
artwork by John Howe. This image has been modified from it's original form to
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