Dedicated to Diem Kieu and isaacmarble5, as well as any other Frodo/Delamarth shippers. I hope this is a decent ending for those who would rather a nice, angsty ending to a tragic or sequel one. ;) This was meant to be a one-shot, but it looks like it'll be two or three. :) Thanks to all who read!

Frodo scrambled to the edge of the cliff. Watching her fall over the side frightened him; he waited for her screams to fill the air, but they never did.

"Wait!" He slipped over the side just as she undid the cloth of her dress from the rock of the precipice overlooking her doom. She began to fall, but didn't get far before Frodo grabbed ahold of her wrist. "Don't go!" He started to drag her upwards, but the blood on his hand caused her to slip down. "Don't let go!" He swallowed. "Come on. We can get out of here, both of us!"

Delamarth stared up at him longingly. "I thought I wouldn't see you alive." She smiled through her tears. "You are a wonderful creature, Frodo. I wish I could have deserved you, and I wish I could have loved you."

"You did!" Frodo insisted. "You do; I know that now." The very rumblings of Mount Doom quieted around him as he allowed his realization to sink in: he believed she loved him, and he believed he loved her too. He realized that had to be the reason he'd feared watching her die for so long, feared his quest and almost wanted to fail. "And Sauron is ready to die. Let him go; come with me."

Frodo held out his other hand to Delamarth. She stared up at him, then glanced back down at Sauron. She had so much to evaluate, but when her eyes returned to his all that flew right out of her.

"But I've hurt you."

Sauron slipped away behind her as she did her best to let him go, but he wasn't dead just yet. She battled with herself, trying to decide if she wanted to stay with the one she loved only to increase his hurt, pour salt on the wound she had inflicted all this time and hadn't been able to stop.

Frodo shook his head. "No. You haven't hurt me; I have. I let my greed get in the way, and I lost my finger as a result. I almost lost you too." He swallowed, and behind Delamarth the volcano swelled angrily. The lava quickly covered Sauron, and while Delamarth sat there trying to decide if he meant it Frodo knew they were running out of time. He reached down and grabbed her waist, yanking her up from within the mountain.

Before she could protest, Frodo yanked her along. "Come on!" He scooped up Sting from the ground and grabbed Sam's shoulder; seeing his urgency, Delamarth grabbed Sam as well, hurrying him along faster than Frodo could with his lack of strength. The disoriented gardener stared up at her, then glanced at Frodo, then back at Sauron's fading helmet in the light of the volcano.

Delamarth dragged the two hobbits to a rise in the lava, then stared around for a way out. Now that she had forsaken Sauron she felt dizzy and weak, but she had to get Frodo away from here. And he would never get over it if they lost Sam, so she had to get them both out. She hadn't the capability to become her old self, either; she was quickly changing into whatever Frodo found most optimal, and would never be able to turn back.

She didn't want to become anything detrimental to him.

Delamarth couldn't find any paths in the lava: they were trapped. She reached out to the land of Mordor, summoning its power, only to crumple from a shock of pain through her gut. If she tried any harder, her lack of control and the failure of the land could kill her. She initially stepped back from the prospect, searching for some alternative, something else she could do. She didn't have time, but for a moment the instinct to survive was the only thing that mattered.

Then Frodo sank to the rock by her side.

"Perhaps we are made to die here," he managed, laying his head peacefully down. "Sauron is defeated."

Sam opened his mouth to agree; Delamarth protested before he could say another word. "No!" She glared up at Sam as she collapsed by Frodo. With her last threads of power she sensed the failure of his body, the numbed desire for food, water, and healing that Frodo dare not search fruitlessly for. Her hands roamed his torso, feeding energy into his lungs.

"Just keep breathing," she muttered. She studied him, and as she quickly analyzed her options she realized in spite of her rescue perhaps this would be the last time she ever saw him. Her gaze rose to a broken path through the lava, and if she could raise stone just between those increments he and Sam could get out of the volcano's range.

Delamarth wrestled with herself; die with him or die and watch him live on?

She'd already made that decision inside. It was only hard now because he was suddenly handed back to her in there; for once she'd felt hope. And now, as her eyes flickered over his exhausted, handsome features, she felt hope again, not for herself but for the one she loved.

She stroked his cheek softly, brushing some of the blood from his skin. Frodo's expression grew wide and confused, and he reached up to touch her when he realized perhaps she'd accepted the fact that they were going to die here: she studied him so intently he thought she was going to do something drastic. She met his touch halfway, kissing his palm.

"I'll be back in a moment, love," she whispered. He wanted to follow, but he couldn't stand.

Delamarth approached Sam, grabbing his shirt collar. The hobbit lifted his hands to defend himself, but she glared at him until he put them down.

"Samwise Gamgee, you have a mission." She tried to sound angry or assertive, but she couldn't manage it—her voice cracked within moments. "Carry Frodo and start running. Don't stop until you're out of range of the lava." Her eyes sank shut, and she turned away. "And tell him I love him."

She stared up at the stone to raise a path, but a raspy whisper from behind cut her off. Frodo heard her clearly, as though there were no explosions and there was no war.

"I love you too."

He wished he could have told her sooner.

Delamarth couldn't even look back at him; the frustration and agony of realization that he would never be hers, even though she'd finally won, drove a great cry from her lungs. With the power of her voice the path before her stabbed its way through the lava, jutting out in a great line across Mordor into the distance.

"Samwise, grab him!" Delamarth shouted; she trembled in place, and her body slacked to the ground. She heaved in powerful breaths to keep living, but her essence quickly drained away. She struggled and fought for her life. She at least had to see him safely out of here.

Sam got the message after overpowering his initial shock. He quickly scooped Frodo off the ground; the lava threatened to destabalize the earth above it, and some of the rock crumbled beneath Frodo's limp body. Sam raced past the crumpling Delamarth with Frodo to the rock path, but the moment Frodo could process opening his eyes, he spotted Delamarth on the ground.

"Sam!" He wrested from his friend's arms, landing solid on the ground. Sam protested, but Frodo had eyes only for Delamarth's body on the ground. The lava rise approached her quickly; Frodo limped back down the path and grabbed Delamarth by her slim shoulders. He dragged her down the rock as best he could in spite of his lack of strength. Sam quickly caught up to him, and the two hobbits assisted each other as well as the Ring as far away from the mountain as they could get.

Soon, though, Frodo frantically ordered Sam to run. He hefted Delamarth into his arms and pursued his gardener as they raced across the rocky earth of Mordor, just sloped enough that the lava persisted with them.

Delamarth groaned in Frodo's arms, and although his breath heaved he managed to hear her.

"Put me down," she murmured. "I'm going to die anyway."

The fire licked at Frodo's feet, and he jumped. "No!" He sprang with Sam around the stone; he could see a small rise close by, where the lava wouldn't pursue them until it overflowed. He squeezed Delamarth close to him. "Hold on, Delamarth; we'll make it. Hold on."

His voice was all she heard before her world went black.