"'This is my last word,' he said in a low voice. 'The Ringbearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid: neither to cast away the Ring, nor deliver it to any servant of the Enemy, nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the Company, … and only then in gravest need.'"
-Elrond, from The Ring Goes South
Frodo let out a startled cry as the snowy mountain gave way beneath his numb feet. Unknowingly, he had stepped on a pile of unstable rocks and small boulders near the mountain's edge, setting off a small avalanche of snow and earth. He stumbled and fell on his face, tumbling head over heels down the path. Just behind him, Legolas thrust out a hand in a desperate grab for the hobbit's coat and missed. He himself neatly sidestepped the tumultuous flow and turned to hold Sam back. Sam in turn stopped the pony, but cried out in fear for his master. Gimli tried to see over Bill's back.
As he rolled and tumbled, Frodo was dimly aware of his danger. His uncontrolled descent was only a few feet from a steep drop-off. His head spun and he grasped for a sturdy handhold. The cold snow squished uselessly between his fingers. "Help!" he yelped.
The avalanche caught up with the rest of the Fellowship. Merry and Pippin let out squeals of terror as they were swept from their feet and plunged down the mountainside. Boromir miraculously managed to keep his footing, and even caught the two young hobbits as they rolled past, stopping their ungainly descent.
"Aragorn!" Legolas called a warning, and the ranger turned to see Frodo nearing the edge. Gandalf, several feet ahead and thus helpless, whirled at the distant muffled shout. His eyes widened in surprise. Aragorn knew only he could help the Ringbearer, so he lunged at the small figure and latched onto anything he could, the hobbit's belt.
As Frodo came to a sudden halt, the most horrible thing happened. He felt the chain slip from his neck and over his head, saw the shining gold and silver float through the air. It happened as if in slow motion, the Ring sailing out over the mountain cliff. "Noooo!" Frodo shrieked as it began to fall.
Gandalf saw the Ring as it flew through the air in his direction, and had less than a second to agonize over his decision. Attempt to catch the Ring and risk a falling death, or let the Ring possibly be lost to the Fellowship? As it began its descent, he made his choice, and leapt after it, hand outstretched. The Ring almost seemed to hover there, as if it wanted him to catch it.
He realized with horror, perhaps it did. Too late! His fingers reflexively closed in a tight fist around the smooth, cool metal, and time sped up again. He was falling fast now, no time to rue over what he had done. Unconsciously, he curled into a protective ball around the Ring, and disappeared from the others' sight, without a sound.
"Mithrandir!" Legolas gasped in shock as he saw the wizard go over the edge, leaving the gnarled brown staff behind in the snow. The nimble elf scrambled down the steep, slick path and came to an abrupt halt beside Aragorn and Frodo. He peered over the edge and saw nothing but the slowing flow of white powder and a few rocks. "Mithrandir!" he called fearfully, voice trembling. The call echoed back unanswered.
Aragorn slid to his feet in a dreamlike state, pulling Frodo up with him. He turned his white face to the elf. "He's gone," he whispered. Only the elf heard him above the whistling wind. "The Ring, he tried to stop it…" He shook his head to clear his thoughts and picked his way down the path. The Ring is gone. What does this mean? He stopped next to Gandalf's staff and knelt beside it, groaning in his heart. Mithrandir, o Pilgrim Grey, what ill fortune comes upon us now! Not only is the Ring gone, but you as well. Can anyone, even the wisest of the Istari, survive such a fall? Are you somewhere down there buried beneath ten feet of snow, or have you landed on your feet like a cat? And how will we find you?
A small hand gently brushed his shoulder, and he twisted to receive a weak smile from Frodo. The hobbit was obviously in pain, but in mind and not in body. Tears threatened to fall from his large eyes. He feels the separation of the Ring, and the loss of Gandalf. Poor little one. It is a burden too great for him to bear. Aragorn returned the smile.
"Gandalf will be all right, Strider," Frodo assured, his voice thin and barely audible, a mere whisper. "He is a wizard, after all." Frodo's eyes alighted on the staff. "With or without his 'walking stick,' he'll make it by and by. We've got to trust him. He would not have gone after it, if it hadn't been the best choice."
As the other members of the Fellowship crowded closer, Aragorn wanted desperately to believe the shivering hobbit at his side. He noticed everyone's eyes fixed on him; they were looking to him as leader. He sighed. "I know it, Frodo." Yet he didn't. He had seen the look in Gandalf's eyes just before he had jumped. The wizard had been torn in two with indecision. Not even he foresaw such a small misstep, but one stumble and the whole quest has fallen over the cliff.
Frodo met his eyes and Aragorn saw that he understood the situation. His optimistic words had been for the sake of the others. "Gandalf will be all right, but we must find him and the Ring as soon as possible. Caradhras threatens us with more snow and a dread chill." The temperature was dropping as the minutes passed.
"And that cruel mountain has deprived us of our fire-starter," Gimli snarled up at the peak, glanced down at the wooden staff. "That crazy old wizard had better survive, or I swear, when we find him, I'm going to kill him." His gruff manner hid the choking fear deeper within. The rough-edged dwarf had come to like Gandalf very much, and he refused to consider the darker possibilities.
"Who ever heard of a wizard being put off by an avalanche?" Boromir asked, standing between Merry and Pippin and holding the frightened hobbits close to his sides. Pippin sniffed loudly.
"Don't worry, Master Frodo," Sam still hung back, stroking Bill's velvety nose and comforting both the horse and his master. "He'll show his face again afore too long, I'll warrant. Or we'll find him quick."
A soft chuckle escaped Frodo's lips. "'A wizard is never late,'" he quoted. "'he arrives precisely-'"
"'When he means to,'" Aragorn finished with him, and forced another smile. "Yes, he pulled that line quite often on me, as well. Bless your Sam, but he's right. We will find Gandalf, and the Ring. This Fellowship will not be broken, not if I have anything to say about it." For a moment he looked the part of a true King, a grim and determined leader of men. Boromir silently regarded him in this light, and pondered what he saw.
They lingered still in that place, the wind the only sound in their ears. Some hoped against hope that Gandalf might suddenly call up to them. Or that he might suddenly appear, scolding Gimli for picking up his staff. In truth, Gimli collected it half with the expectation that this might happen. He was disappointed then, for nothing happened. Pippin looked close to tears.
Boromir awkwardly broke the silence. "What now, Aragorn?" he joined the big folk closer to the edge. Legolas stood at the very tip, peering into the white haze with mournful intensity, long blond hair whipping about in a stiff cross-breeze. "We must somehow climb down there and recover It," he lowered his voice to exclude the distraught hobbits. "Before the enemy does."
Gimli shuddered. "Aye, and the sooner, the better. Perhaps Gandalf is still alive, but with each passing moment, that chance lessens. If he's hurt, or unconscious…what with this storm brewing."
"Mithrandir cannot be in too much harm," Legolas told the dwarf. "I must believe I would have felt his passing, if he were truly…gone." He could not say 'dead.' "No, he is alive, and we will find him. I cannot say there is a way down from here. The edge is far too steep, even for an elf. I could not see the bottom, for the snow flies too thickly." Indeed, the snow had already covered everyone in a fine dusting.
Gimli brushed off his beard and scowled at the mountain. "Forward or back? The weather seems to worsen as we go on, but there is not a path down for miles if we turn back. Cursed fortune we seem to have. It follows us like an ill-bred mongrel." He eyed the mountain as if he would like to set it on fire with Gandalf's staff.
"A mongrel with fangs, at that," Boromir added, feeling helpless and angry. He prided himself in his leadership abilities, but now he knew not what to do. The admission hurt. Fangs of indecision. "You must choose the path, Aragorn. I am not familiar with this place."
"Me neither," Aragorn protested. "I prefer to keep clear of this ill-tempered rock-mound, and have only ever taken one path, this path. If I recall correctly, the ground grows less steep up ahead. Would that I did not have to make this choice, for if I am wrong, we will lose precious time. But I have, and we will go forth." He stood slowly, and set his face to the front.
"We'll go on till we find a route down. Everyone on their feet. Sam, get Bill going. Legolas, I need your eyes up ahead, scouting. Frodo, watch your step." The Fellowship began moving again, Legolas scampering ahead over the snow, Aragorn and Boromir forging a path for the hobbits, and Gimli helping Sam with Bill. Unknown to each other, several struggled with a load of guilt.
I should have sensed those unstable stones and warned Frodo, Gimli thought angrily to himself, as he helped Merry over a large rock. Dwarves always felt the nature of stones. What had gone wrong?
I wasn't at Master Frodo's side to help him, Sam hid tears of shame in the soft fur of Bill's cheek. 'Don't you lose him, Samwise Gamgee.' I didn't lose him; I lost you, Gandalf sir."
Legolas held in his grief tightly as he walked, searching for a descending path. I should have caught Frodo in time, but I did not. I missed him. I am a disgrace to elves, and in front of the dwarf, no less. I'm sorry, Mithrandir. I hope your fire has not gone out.
Aragorn grunted as he shoved the snow away with his hands and feet. I should have remembered the Ring, the way it so easily takes flight. I shouldn't have stopped Frodo so suddenly. Perhaps I shouldn't have even chosen the path of Caradhras. I've failed the Fellowship, Mithrandir. Why must you suffer for my mistakes? We will find you. He shoved the snow away with renewed vigor.
Hot tears slid down Frodo's face, landing with small splashes of steam in the snow. He could still see wonderful old Gandalf, leaping out for the Ring, falling out of sight, a look of horror on his face. Frodo had sensed the horror went deeper than a fear of falling. Something was wrong. It's all my fault. I lost the Ring. I've failed you, dear Gandalf. And Aragorn, and everyone. I lost the Ring. It's gone, and who knows if we will recover it. Have I doomed Middle Earth? The hobbit felt a great crushing weight on his shoulders, was faintly tempted to walk right on over the edge. But no, Gandalf would not want that. We cannot give up. But why did I fall?
Far, far below, the Ring might have chuckled if it heard Frodo's thoughts. As it was, the Ring could only sit within its prison of flesh and bone and revel in the glowing power around it. It had not felt such wonderful power in ages, not since its master. In fact, the signatures were very similar at the most basic of levels. This creature and its master were of the same original make.
Only…This creature wanted to destroy the Ring. It didn't understand that, and in its own strange, horrible way, it became determined to change the creature's mind. It would make him want it. It would change his loathing into desire. It would use him and his wonderful, glorious power. The Ring was unconcerned with the possibility of failure. None had ever managed to resist its mighty pull in the end, not alone and unaided.
TBC?
Well, what do you folks think so far? Review if you'd like to. I won't mind. Apologies for not updating A Fox Hunt instead, but this story idea got stuck in my head and wouldn't let go. The next update here should come next week. Oh, and even though I've read and reread this story 50 times (not quite, but close), I'm not using a beta reader for it, so please pardon the mistakes that might still be in here.