A water drip echoed down the hall. Everywhere was cold, dark, and stunk of shit, piss, and only the Valar knows how many unsavory things.

I couldn't see no matter how much I blinked only to realize I was blindfolded. My hands were hung over my head and my feet dangled off the floor. Perhaps I was hanging from the ceiling. Somehow, that seemed awful and I wished I knew how high up off the floor I was.

"I don't see the point in keeping him alive at this point."

"The steward insists on it," another voice replied. "If it were up to me, I'd have cut his neck."

The first laughed cruelly. "That'd be merciful, though, if you think about it. You really want to be seen as one who would show the destroyer mercy after his fuck up?"

"No. I would not." There was banging against iron and I winced. "You still alive in there, you shit?"

"Oh, he's alive. Just cuz he ain't been fed much don't mean he's not getting water."

"Pity he's all skin and bones. He must have been quite pretty before for a male Halfling."

"So the wizard says…"

"Wizard?"

Gandalf…

"Oh, aye. The wizard is trying to get him released so he can go back home. The Steward won't have it, I hope. I'd like to see the Fucker punished for DOOMING US ALL!"

I winced again.

"MY BROTHER DIED BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU LET THE DARK LORD RETURN!"

The shouts ended. Perhaps the guard was taken away? Frodo didn't know. Nor did he wish to know. I didn't let anything happen…he was too strong…you put your hope in the wrong person…

I bit his lip. My arms ached, my head felt heavy, and I was cold…

"Frodo?"

"Gandalf?"

"It is me."

"Oh, Gandalf! You have to get me out of here."

"I'm afraid that's not an option."

I felt as though a whip had cracked across his face. "Why not?"

"You're to be executed tomorrow at dawn."

"No, Gandalf, you have to know that the Ring was too strong—"

"Is that really what you've been telling yourself?"

"I didn't mean to fail, but the Ring took over me, I swear it!"

"How did you ever get out alive?"

How indeed? "Sauron let me go. He meant to keep me captive, but he let me go. Gandalf, why would I conspire with him after all I've done to try and make sure he never returns?"

"I wish I knew that as well."

"Maybe if I were to talk to Bilbo—"

"Bilbo is dead, Frodo. He died in Rivendell, heart filled with grief and shame."

"What? When? Why was I not told?" I wait for Gandalf to answer.

"It has been a month since Sauron returned. The news of your disgrace would have arrived in Rivendell ten days after. Word of his passing came to me from Elrond six days ago. I'm afraid even if you were forgiven, Frodo, you would not be welcome in the Shire regardless. Bilbo sent word to the Thain and to the Master of Buckland. You are officially disowned from the Baggins family by now. Possibly also by any other clans you had relation to, including the Tooks and Brandybucks."

I couldn't breathe, no matter how much I tried. My throat felt airtight.

Disowned?

Disgraced?

How can this be! Of all the people who would understand or speak up on my behalf, wouldn't Gandalf be one and Bilbo the other? Would Bilbo not demand I be returned to him so that he may deal with me as he sees fit?

I thought my uncle would at least understand how I could have failed. Or Gandalf. Or the Elves.

The Ring was just too strong…

"What are…how am I going to die?"

"I managed to convince Faramir to give you a merciful death. You're to be burned at the stake, Frodo."

"Burned?! They're going to set me on fire?! How is that merciful?!"

"Most wanted you to be flayed, or drawn and quartered. Trust, me, Frodo, in this case, you're getting off very easy. There are far worse ways to die."

I shudder. This isn't happening. I want out. I hear the tap of a staff and I wish I could scream. It's just a vision, I remind myself. I'm not really going to be killed. I'm in Minas Morgul right now, in the chambers Sauron made for me. He'll pull me out…won't he?

Tears prick at my eyes. I don't want to die. I don't want to die…

I don't want to die!

The blindfold is taken off and I'm faced with several grim faced guards bearing the emblem of the White Tree. I'm set on my feet, having been hung from a height where I am at eye level with Men—so I was three feet off the floor until just now. They force a gown over my head. It stunk of rotten eggs and I shudder when I realize it had been drenched in sulfur.

My hands are bound and a bag set over my head. I'm lead up the stairs to the ground floor.

The people are shouting at me, hurling insults in my face, some dare to step out of line and kick me. The guards keep them back, but that is the most they do, pulling me back up and dragging me to a wooden platform. An erected post with metal rungs stands in the center of it and there is hay beneath the platform. Five soldiers stand firm around it, each holding a torch.

I am led onto the platform and turned to face the crowd. My hands are unbound and rebound to the pillar. My feet are tied down as well.

Gandalf stands beside Faramir, who wears the crown of the Steward. Gandalf's face is downcast and I know he will not help me, even if I were to beg him to put a stop to this.

The screaming crowd quiets when Faramir stands.

"Frodo the Destroyer," he began, "On this day, you will be burned at the stake until dead for allowing the Dark Lord Sauron to return. May your punishment be seen ever as a pillar of my mercy." He waved his hand. The guards lit the hay beneath the platform.

There is nothing I can do now. If I'm going to die, I may as well die bravely. I stare at Gandalf. "I am sorry I was not stronger."

The smoke thickens, rising through the wooden cracks. My eyes water and I it chokes me. Everything is getting hot. Too hot and the fire spreads only to where I am, contained within. It gets too hot to bear. The hair on my feet burn first as do the soles. Fire licks at my legs and the gown catches fire.

Soon I am screaming, unable to believe the pain—

I feel a hand yanking me back and the heat dies. I'm cold and it is a mercy. I gasp for air and try to contain my wails, failing.

I am held firmly in Sauron's arms. He rocks me, hushing me, petting my hair and kissing me. "You're all right," he whispered. "You are safe, my precious. You are all right."

"What…would they really…"

"It is a possibility too great to ignore, my love."

"Bilbo…is he…did he really…"

"Yes. He is buried in a plot somewhere were Rivendell once stood. I have commanded that it be well kept for your benefit."

"How…"

"Greif."

"And…and shame?"

"No," Sauron planted another kiss on my temple. "No matter what you did, no matter how badly you failed in their eyes, Bilbo could never be ashamed of you."

"In the…vision, he was…he disowned me."

"And perhaps he would have, if he thought you lived still. However, that is the one part of the vision you have seen that I would disagree with the most if I did with anything you saw. Bilbo adored you, Frodo. He died believing you had passed away as well and I do not doubt that he ever stopped loving you. Nor ever could."

It was slow, calming down. A servant took away the basin. Another offered me orange tea, keeping my cup full. A chocolate cake had been placed on the coffee table, left untouched. Sauron urged me to drink the tea, petting my hair and kissing me.

I should hate myself toward the end of the hour when I was as calm as I could be after what I witnessed and felt. My body seemed to act on its own when I clung to him as he made to leave. My tongue and voice conspired against me when I whispered, "Don't leave. Please. I don't want to be alone right now."

I should not have found his embrace comforting. At all. I should not have been frightened enough to desire kissing him.

I shouldn't have given into that desire and kiss him anyway. I should not have welcomed his touch…Should not have been aroused by his touch and yearn for more.

My fingers clawed at his broad shoulders. He was heavy for me, compressing me into the couch as he kissed my lips. He rocked into me, thumb gently stroking the curve of my ear and I moaned, hands moving to hold the back of his neck.

"Not here," I groan. "The bedroom…Sauron…"

"Still so respectable. Do you wish to not be seen, my precious? Do you not want to be displayed, beautiful though you are? I would have them see you and worship you for the god you are, my love."

"I wouldn't!" I snap, breaking away. "I am not a trophy to be seen."

Sauron pulled me back into his arms before standing and carrying me to the bedroom. The door clicked shut behind him.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much," I admit as I'm laid onto the bed.

One hand pins my arms above my head while the other coaxes my legs apart, massaging my cock. I whimper, wondering if I'd be able to take him in if it came to it. My hips thrust into his hand. He hisses in a breath, releasing my arms to pull my trousers down. I sit up before he seizes my hips. His fire-red eyes burn into me, sticking his tongue out and licking my cock.

I grip the sheets beneath me, watching him with my eyes wide open. His mouth closes around my length, kissing it. His tongue stroke the underside of my cock and moves up it until the head is all that resides in his mouth. I feel his tongue press into the slit, teasing me. His hands move down from my hips to my thighs, pushing my legs up and over his shoulders. My arms shake as he takes me in again, sucking me in. His mirthful eyes never leave mine. His hand cups my sack, squeezing gently and moves past stroking the perineum. His finger rubs against my hole.

I have lost.