Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing.
A/N: Mt. Doom fic #3.^_^ I do so love writing these. This one was actually partially written before "Borne up from the darkness", but I didn't finish it til today. It's also considerably weaker and shorter than "Borne up from the darkness", but that's ok. Enjoy.
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He didn't know why he didn't fall.
He didn't know what kept his bloody hand from letting go and sending his entirety to a fiery doom.
Maybe it was the instinct to live. Never before did he genuinely desire death. Did he now?
Maybe it was the look in the eyes of his most devoted comrade. Something burned in those eyes that silently cried out to him; a cry he could hear without the assistance of his ears. Or maybe there was a real voice. Maybe the cry that echoed through his head was his companion speaking to him out loud. He didn't know. He couldn't know. His senses had been hurled into a skewed version of an inescapable reality he had never known before.
He didn't know why he wanted to fall.
He didn't know what made him yearn to be consumed by the rage of a fiery storm.
Maybe it was the inexplicable demand from the smoldering sea of lava that swelled below him, the demand that did all but force his hand from the ledge.
Maybe it was what sat on the hardened crust of fire far below him. The burden that had weighed him down for months. It seemed only right that he should receive its same fate.
But he had already complied more than enough times. He had made the worst mistake of his life just a few minutes ago because of its will.
How could he surrender again?
It has no power in me any longer; I will not yield. Never again.