Chapter 7 The Fields of Conflict

Frodo stopped for a moment, gaping at the dark entryway into the mountain. He felt his resolve slipping away and his hand again, reaching for the Ring. It was at that moment, when he stood on the very brink of surrender that Gollum struck. Leaping from atop a large boulder, Gollum flung himself upon the unsuspecting hobbit, knocking Frodo to the ground. "NOOOOOOO!" screamed the wizened creature, barely recognizable as Gollum. The journey across Mordor had not been kind to him. "Wicked Masster! Must not hurt the Precious! Master lies to usss! Wicked, wicked massster!" Struggling against the flailing grasp of Gollum, Frodo managed to heave himself up, knocking Gollum aside. Eyes blazing, he whirled to meet his attacker. Scooping up a nearby rock, Frodo hurled it at Gollum, striking his wraithlike foe painfully in the head. Gollum retreated with an angry scream of pain but cowered beneath Frodo's fiery gaze. "Please, Master!" he whimpered cringing at Frodo's feet, "Please, good Master! Please, don't hurts us!"

"Be gone!" roared Frodo wrathfully "If you come near me again, I shall cast you into the fires of Mt. Doom! Your time is at an end and you cannot betray me ever again!" Quivering, Gollum slowly backed away, his lamp-like eyes bleak with the knowledge that the destruction of the Precious would be the end of him as well. Frodo glared at Gollum a moment longer, then, without another glance, he whirled and strode purposefully towards the opening to Sammath Naur. Gollum watched as the hobbit disappeared into the darkness, then with a gleam of desperation in his own eyes, he followed to the doorway and silently dissolved into the gloom.

Frodo gasped for air as he staggered along the pathway towards the red glow ahead. He knew the fiery heart of Orodruin lay before him and it was there he must cast the Ring. He shambled to a halt at the edge of the precipice and stared down at the seething river of lava flowing below him. He pulled the Ring from its chain and held it firmly in his hand preparing to fling it to its final destruction. It felt heavy and warm, almost alive. Slowly, he opened his hand and stared at it. He began to shake as it called to him again, imploring and beguiling. He could be the true Master and save all of Middle Earth! Yes, the Power could all be his! He, Frodo Baggins of the Shire could destroy all the evil in the earth! He could return peace and happiness to the world and life would return to normal. No one need suffer ever again. Staring into space, mesmerized by the image of such a world, Frodo finally yielded, unable to fight any longer. A vague smile formed on his cracked and bleeding lips. "I do not choose to do this thing," he rasped, his eyes vacant. "The Ring is mine!" With that, he slipped the Ring onto his finger and disappeared.

On a field many miles from where Frodo struggled for his soul another battle ensued; the battle for Middle Earth. There, the Horse-lord Eomer wiped the blood and sweat from his brow, panting with exhaustion. Another dead and bloodied orc lay at his feet. How many had he killed so far? He had no idea. They came at him in a constant stream and he hacked them down like so much cordwood. His only saving grace was that most of them did not know the first thing about fighting. Their only advantage, and it was a big one, lay in their sheer overwhelming numbers. He glanced around quickly during this brief respite. He could see Aragorn fighting some distance away with the elf, Legolas nearby. Gandalf shone like an avenging angel as he brought down enemy after enemy. Then, in a moment, they were lost to sight as another band of orcs came surging forward. Raising his sword, dripping the black blood of many orcs, Eomer prepared to meet his next attacker. As the orc bore down upon him, its hideous face contorted with bloodlust and rage, Eomer took a step back only to find his feet slipping out from under him on the blood-slicked ground. He tried to regain his balance, but stumbled over the bodies of orcs that lay at his feet and he felt himself falling backwards, his sword knocked from his hand. He desperately scrabbled for his weapon but it had fallen beyond his reach. Looking up, Eomer heard the orc howl in victory, its bloodied sword hurtling down upon him. Suddenly, the orc froze a look of surprise on its face as it stared down at the oddly glowing blade emerging from its chest. Dropping it sword it collapsed to the ground revealing the small orc behind. Eomer gaped in amazement. It was one of the smallest orcs he had ever seen and in its hand was a brightly glowing blade. Eomer was further shocked to realize the blade was obviously of elven design. What kind of orc would carry an elf blade? He tried to make out the orc's features beneath its helm. The creature stared back at him with eyes mirroring exhaustion and horror, but also a certain exhilaration. Eomer blinked and in a moment, the orc was gone, swept away by another surge in the battle. Quickly, Eomer crawled over the corpses around him and retrieved his sword. Clambering to his feet, he began fighting anew and the odd orc was quickly forgotten the battle for against the hordes of the Dark Lord continued.

Frodo crowed in triumph, the Ring held aloft in victory. It was his and no one could ever take it from him again! However, his exultation was short lived. With a hiss of anger, Gollum flung himself at Frodo, grabbing for the Ring. His soul had been so tainted by long exposure to the Ring's influence, he had no trouble seeing Frodo's invisible form. The two fought desperately, each determined to have the Ring for his own. Little did they realize that Sauron now aware of their presence in Sammath Naur, was horrified as he understood its implication. The Nazgûl were frantically winging their way towards Mt. Doom with all speed and Sauron's minions suddenly finding themselves without direction hesitated in their battles. The future of Middle Earth now literally stood on the brink of destruction.

Frodo fought hard, but he had underestimated the Ring's power over Gollum. Gasping, Gollum seized Frodo's hand and with no hesitation, bit down on the hobbit's finger severing it and separating Frodo from the Ring. With a cry of victory, Gollum flung the finger away and held the Ring tightly to his breast. "Mine!" he howled as he pranced in delight along the edge of the precipice, "The Precious is Mine!" His eyes closed in ecstasy, Gollum was unaware of his danger and with a final twirl, found himself toppling over the edge and into the fires of Mt. Doom. "Presciousssssss!" he screamed and then, all was silent.

Frodo lay sobbing; cradling his bleeding hand he gradually became conscious of his surroundings. He felt as if a great weight had been lifted from him. Shaking, he sat up and realized he had finally been released from the power of the Ring! It had been so long since he had been free, he did not quite know what to think or feel. He looked around the cavern with a new awareness. He had little memory of even entering this place but he quickly understood that if he did not leave immediately, he would die here. The mountain was erupting and huge plumes of smoke and fire were shooting upwards. Rocks were rumbling loose and falling all around him. For a moment. Frodo considered remaining there and being done with it all. He was so exhausted and tired of fighting. But, then he thought of Sam. What would Sam do? He would never give up and if Frodo surrendered here, he would never be able to go look for his friend. In that split instant, Frodo scrambled to his feet and digging deep within himself, found the strength to dash out of the cavern and out onto the road beyond. Rocks continued to rain down upon him as did clouds of noxious gas and ash. But Frodo ran on. He ran until he could run no longer. He found himself on a small prominence of rock and realizing it was dead end, turned only find his path had been swallowed up by the river of lava that now flowed around him. He was trapped. The air was thick and Frodo fought for breath. Slowly, he collapsed to the ground and closed his eyes. "I did it Sam," he whispered hoarsely. "I could never have done it without you!" He paused. "I'm sorry I can't come find you, but I know you would understand." He coughed deeply, knowing he had little time left. "Good- bye, Sam. He looked up into the sky, a tear trickling down his cheek. "Good-bye." He closed his eyes and gratefully accepted the darkness that swallowed him in its comforting embrace. He never saw the eagles with their white rider come swooping down through the plumes of ash and fire and deftly pluck him from his precipitous perch and soar off to the west. Gandalf made one last turn looking for a second figure, but when it quickly became obvious there could be no other survivor, he too turned and followed the others as Orodruin continued its explosive self-destruction. Sauron was destroyed.

Thank you again to everyone who has read my story thus far and special thanks to those of you who have reviewed it. I truly appreciate it!