"I am against sending you back into the pit, Frodo," Eowyn said. "After my hard work to get you out, why should I let you return?" She glared at Gandalf. "He will only hurt you again."

"Perhaps, but that's a risk I will take. And there isn't really any other option that has been made known. Or if someone has an idea that will work, please be my guest and tell me. If it's better than the one we have, then we'll go with that plan instead."

"Other than letting you go back alone, the only other plan we have is to catch him ourselves and kill him, but…" Elladan exchanged glances with Elrohir before turning back to Frodo. "The only way to kill him would be to toss him into Mount Doom."

"And he's a Maiar, same as Gandalf," Elrohir added. "I'm sure he would be able to escape us if he so wished it."

Gandalf nodded. "He could. And he would."

"So that plan is doomed to fail from the beginning," Frodo said. "But relying on whatever it is Sauron supposedly feels from me, while superficial at best, is our only plan we can have any hope for success. I have to go back. After what he did to my friends, my family, maybe even my people…Eowyn, I don't want to go back. Don't believe for a second that I do. But I will do what I must. If I must go back, then I will go back."

"You'll go to your death!" Faramir growled.

Frodo shrugged. "It's by Sauron's will that I'm still alive. If death is the alternative, then so be it. I will die and if I succeed, then I will not regret dying. Only, my illness was a spell. I'm afraid it'd only be too easy to fall under it again."

"No," Gandalf said, "there is a mark that can block magic of any kind, good or ill. With it, Sauron won't be able to cast a spell on you again. But neither will our magic be able to save you if you somehow survive this task."

"Why has this mark never been known before?" Elrohir asked, scowling.

"Because it's almost never used," Gandalf said. "Were it known, too many people would paint it on their doors or even carve it onto their own skin to block magic even if they need it most. True, Sauron would be blocked of all his magic, but so would I. And," he narrowed his eyes at Elrohir, "so would you. All in all, it's quite a nuisance at the best of times."

"But it will keep me from being put under his spell again?"

"Yes."

"If I do somehow survive, can it be removed?"

"It would be painful, but yes," Gandalf said.

I bite my lip. "All right. Where would be the best place for me to get it?"

"Somewhere he will not notice it," Faramir said. He stood and knelt at my feet, lifting it. "It'll be painful, but what about on the sole of one of your feet?" I wince. Yes. That would be painful.

"So long as I can walk on it long enough to do what I must, I guess that'll do."

"You look nervous," Elledan said. I glare at him.

"You get a mark on your foot and tell me it's not painful? Hobbits may have tough soles, but we still feel pain there sometimes. Stubbing our toes is a rather pressing issue for us…I got a splinter once. Between my big toe and little one." The intake of breath was quite satisfying. "Nothing was more painful."

"And you milked as much sympathy as you could from it," Gandalf said. "Even though you were fine an hour later! The grief you put your dear uncle through baffles even me."

I shrug, giving him a genuine smile.

"Perhaps," I say. "In my defense, it did hurt."

"Well, I think splinter aside, getting an anti-magic mark branded on your foot is going to be rather painful," Faramir said, barely shuddering. "I'm sure a Dwarf will be able to forge the brand for you." I swallowed and nodded.

"The sooner we get it done, the sooner we can be rid of Sauron, right?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll do it. Sooner the better."

Gandalf called the meeting adjourned.

My feet tingle and walking suddenly seems very difficult. I shake them, trying to relieve the sensation of burns on them.

"Are you sure about this?" Eowyn asked. "Even if you agree to go back, the brand doesn't have to be on your foot."

"I'd rather it not be there either," I agree, "But then where else would it be easy to hide? It's not really a place anyone thinks to get a…mark on. I just hope I won't be limping so much that it's noticed. I know it will at first, but after…"

She pats my shoulder. "I knew Merry. He was a brave soul. It must be a family trait."

I smile. "You could tell we were related?"

"You have the same eyes." She squeezed my shoulder. "I wish you best of luck, Frodo."

I thank her and head with Faramir and Gandalf to talk to the Dwarf smith.

#

The rune almost resembles that of the Tengwar letters, but it was no letter I have seen before. Gandalf said it was meant to resemble a dragon or a horse with wings.

It seems such a neutral image to me, that I'm likely to name it a winged horse though I'm actually reminded of a dragonfly.

The iron stamp will be small and the brand itself will be on the arch of my foot.

Valar above, I blanch, it may be small but it's going to hurt.

I sigh and spend the day learning how the brand will be treated.

"But branding may take a little too long for healing," the dwarf, Nális, said. "It might be better for it to be inked into the skin."

"Why?" I ask.

"Having it branded will leave you incapacitated for as long as a year, Master Hobbit," the Dwarf said. "Whereas having it inked into your skin will only take at the very most a month for recovery. But given how long you need, the bandaging of it will only take at most a week and then you should be fine so long as it's not soaked in water for long. Also, the bottom of a foot is a dreadful location for both! If it's secrecy you wish, placing it where it can be covered and still indiscrete would be a better option."

I nod. "Maybe we should discuss this more before any decisions are made."

"Aye," Nális agreed.
We agreed to talk about it more on the marrow.

Until then, I went to bath in the Bruinen, folding my clothes and leaving them on the shore while I dunked in the Bruinen's stream, dunking under water to wet my hair and scrub my face.

When I reemerge, shivering, I rub my arms, trying to get warm.

It's not my fault. Who could have known that this would happen?

Sam couldn't have known we needed Gollum alive, so I will not have my friend blamed either!

Put it all on Isildur for not destroying the Ring in the first place. Or even on Elrond for not being more forceful with him.

Or just hang it all and blame Sauron—

Who may or may not be fond of me.

Who abused me because he doesn't know how to…

Stop that thought right there! He is not worthy of your pity!

I rein in a sob because I know that I am safe, but I still feel in danger. Just for different reasons.

While I am with Faramir and Gandalf, I am safe.

I am safe with the Laithagwaith and I would be quite happy to remain here in the ford of Bruinen if I could. But I can't. I have to go back because I'm the only one they have to hope in.

I'm the only one they have…

I sigh, heart heavy in my chest and nearly bent from the weight of it as though the Ring again was latched around my neck. Maybe, so long as Sauron lives, I will always feel like the Ring is still around my neck.

Something to love and hate at the same time, something I would—I regret—kill myself to lose and kill everyone else to keep.

I'll never be free of it while I live…

Getting upset and depressed will not do anyone any good, I think, least of all myself.

Nális and I talked a little more about how to care for a tattoo, which, we agreed, would be placed on my inner thigh instead of my foot (which is a far more comforting thought than it should be, given that I agreed that, instead of getting a third-degree burn, I'd have ink injected into my skin. By a needle).

He said the tattoo could be small enough that it would seem insignificant, so long as he could see his work when it was finished, examine it to make sure it healed properly…

Well, needless to say, I don't care so long as the tattoo is done and unnoticeable by anyone else.

"I admire your eagerness, Master Baggins," Nális said, "But it would be better for you to wait for tomorrow."

"And I can wait," I say. "But I'd rather get everything out of the way." I sit beside him. "I'm anxious. And frightened…I beg your pardon, I just…"

"Fear is natural. No one here will judge you for it. What you do with your fear is what matters. You're weary. It's noticeable. But you don't let your fear rule you. Aye. That's more important than anything else, Lad. Not letting it rule you. You may be no warrior, Master Baggins, but you're certainly worthy of the respect you get."

"I would think most would be angry with me."

"Most are angry with you. Angry enough that the first thing that was done as soon as it was known that the Ringbearer was a Hobbit was that the Pointy-Eared long-shank tree-shaggers got your people out of Middle Earth before any Men could go after them."

I stare at him.

He chuckles. "Look alive, Master Baggins, you're the last Hobbit on earth."

"And my time will soon come to an end," I say.

Nális pats my shoulder. "Don't dwell on what's been done. Only focus on what you can do and do it well."

And that is what frightens me the most:

Failure.