Frodo wandered to the rope. "We can't leave this for someone to follow us down."

"Like who?"

His gaze spoke volumes. Gollum, I knew, but I'd seen Gollum clambering around; he didn't need any rope. Regardless, I wished I could get it down, too.

"I guess I could climb back up, untie it, and jump back down," I suggested. Frodo eyed me balefully, and I held up my hands in surrender. "I'm kidding, I swear!" Then I glanced up at the rope. "It is a shame, though; half my gift from Lady Galadriel. But it's one of Sam's knots; if I did it right, it's not coming free anytime soon."

Frodo tugged on the rope. It began to unravel, then quickly slithered down the rocks and landed in a heap in front of me.

Frodo smiled. "Real Elvish rope." I grabbed it, inspecting it all over.

"Apparently," I replied. "Wouldn't have supported us all the way down if it were loose."

"Come, Sev," he said, and we continued on.

A few hours later, we were standing on a peak overlooking the front half of the labyrinth. Mordor was in the distance; I could see the fires of Mount Doom.

And the Great Eye.

I shivered.

The pains attacked; I stood still to stay calm.

"Mordor," I said. "The one place in Middle Earth we don't want to see any closer, the one place we're trying to get to.

"It's just where we can't get."

Frodo slowed behind me.

"Let's face it, Frodo," I said, turning. "We're lost. And I'm not sure there's much we can do about it but keep being lost. I don't think Gandalf meant for us to come this way."

I regretted mentioning Gandalf the moment I had done it. But Frodo's countenance did not fall far.

"He didn't mean for a lot of things to happen, Sev," he said. "But they did."

I nodded. Then, as Frodo was staring into the distance, my heart caught. I could see the Great Eye in my mind, and Frodo in its shadow. It was trying to take him.

When I came to, Frodo was gasping, and sat abruptly on a nearby rock.

"Frodo?"

Then I stopped.

"It's the Ring." I stepped forward. "You can see the Great Eye, can't you?"

Frodo glanced up at me. "It's getting heavy," he admitted. He winced and clutched his chest.

I laid my hand on top of his, trying to relax us both. He settled, and his hand pulled away from the Ring. I kept it; the Ring simply couldn't have him.

"Thank you, Sev," he said. I backed away; having taken the pack from Frodo earlier, I removed water from the sack and handed it to him. He hungrily took a little from it.

"What food have we got left?" he asked then.

"Well, let's see," I started sarcastically. I pulled out a leaf-bound pack. "Lembas bread," I said, setting it aside. "Oh, and look!" I pulled out another pack, eyeing Frodo with lifted eyebrows. "More lembas bread." I shook my head, breaking off a square and tossing it to him. "I'm sorry, Frodo. I wish we had something else."

He chewed slowly and nodded a little.

"At least it's food, Sev," he said. Then he nodded at it. "You won't eat any?"

I shook my head. "I don't need food." But I did take a nibble out of it. It had a nice crunch to it, and the sweetness of bland bread. I cocked my head. "Usually I don't love hard food, but this isn't bad."

Frodo smiled back at me. "Nothing ever dampened your sarcasm, did it, Sev?"

I sighed, not willing to answer that. He didn't need to sympathize; he had his own problems to deal with.

He stood and walked over to me. "Sev?"

I glanced up. His eyes were lovely, and blue . . . and distressed. Oh, how I loathed that Ring for taking him.

"What?" I asked, trying to keep a light air.

Frodo sat down and put an arm around my shoulders. "Sev, what happened to you?"

"When?"

He shook his head. "There must have been a time when your good humor was taken, because you didn't say."

"I told you before," I said. "I know pain, Frodo."

Then I looked up. "Leave it to rainclouds to dampen sarcasm."

I gave him my cloak that night. I was hoping he didn't notice. Apparently he didn't, because he initially shivered and pulled tighter. The rain was pouring hard, and I loved every minute of it. I felt the drops of blessed rain washing away my troubles . . . until I remembered they were making Frodo's heavier.

I glanced over at him, and noticed that his eyes were lifted and wide. I followed them, and I caught a flash of movement over the top of the hill.

I hissed.

Frodo looked up. "Sev?"

I shook my head slowly. "Nothing that you weren't aware of yourself."

"Where's your cloak?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I'm not a hundred percent sure. I was half-asleep when I hid it." I covered his eyes with my hand; his face was wet, and I wiped off his forehead gently. "Now go to sleep before I knock you out."

Frodo buried his face in his knees. I sighed and leaned back against the rock. It took all I had to keep from wrapping my arms around his shoulders; he probably wouldn't like it.

But for about ten minutes of the darkest rain that night, I did. He was shivering like a leaf, and his nose was as cold and hard as ice. I blew on my hands, warming the poison inside. It raced, and the friction burned on my skin. I knelt down and wrapped my arms against the two cloaks; he immediately began to warm. I didn't stay for long, only a short minute, before the thickest of the rain began to fade away.

I didn't sleep the rest of the night, and somehow I imagined Frodo probably hadn't, either. However, I don't think he noticed what I had done. When we awakened and set out the next morning, we were still walking through fog and rocks.

"This place looks familiar," I said, not only because we'd been walking in it for a few weeks straight but because it really did look, well, familiar. Admittedly, I was only being half . . . all right, three-quarters of the way sarcastic.

It was lost on Frodo. I immediately regretted my attempt at humor. "That's because we've been here before," Frodo said hopelessly. "We're going in circles!"

"I'd wager there's a swamp nearby," I muttered. "Can you smell it?"

"Yes, I can smell it," Frodo said. Then he looked up at me. "We're not alone."

I nodded to assure him I was aware; Gollum was somewhere around here. Frodo told me that he'd been getting progressively closer as the weeks passed, hence seeing Gollum up on the cliff the night before. He said I ought to awaken him with some sort of signal if he was ever asleep when Gollum got close. I told him I would take my cloak back if I could sense Gollum.

That was the wrong thing to say.

"What do you mean, take your cloak back?"

I shrugged. "You're cold at night, Frodo, and the only thing I can really do about that is loan you my cloak. So I do. And I will take it back only when Gollum is nearby."

I didn't give him room to argue with that; every time he brought it up, I told him I could think of no other more obvious signal. He insisted I keep it, and I told him I would consider it.

"If I ever wake up with it, I'm giving it back," he said. "You must be cold too."

I shook my head. "Not as much as you are."

He looked suspicious of that.

I told him to pay it no mind, and when he laid down on the stone that night, I waited until he had seemed to drift off. Then I slipped my cloak over him.

"You'll do me no good frozen to death, Sev," he mumbled.

"And you're carrying a Ring of power," I shot back, crawling away. "Besides, I'm your guardian; I make the safety decisions!" I only intended it to be partially jocose. "And remember my signal."

"I spotted him earlier, and I know he's coming," Frodo said.

I laid down and closed my eyes, hoping I would spot Gollum quickly enough. No sooner had I begun to feed that half-conscious, dreamlike imagination than a warm shiver spread throughout my body. I moaned . . . that felt really good.

Then I realized it was my cloak.

"Frodo, take it back." I tried to keep the pleasure out of my voice, but was very unsuccessful.

"No, Sev."

I sat up to give it back, but Frodo was right above me. I nearly smacked into him. Frodo caught me with his hand between my shoulder blades, holding me up in my sitting position. I swallowed, and my heart raced; his face was within inches of mine.

"It will strike Gollum as unusual to see it that way," Frodo insisted. He put a hand on each of my shoulders and laid me back down. "Rest, Sev."

"You rest," I mumbled, turning over. "Devil." I tried not to react when his lips brushed my cheek.

"Thank you, Frodo." I said finally as he walked away. "It's a lot warmer." I rolled into my cloak.

"Good night, Sev," he replied. He didn't sound distressed . . . or ambivalent. I smiled to myself. It was probably nothing, but that kiss made me feel better about the decisions I'd made so far.

Frodo was home.

Then I heard a voice, hissing, menacing, and spitting.

"They're thieves! They stole it from us! We kills them!"

It grew closer: "Where is it? My Precious . . . we must gets it back, Precious . . ."

Frodo and I sprang up at the same time and each grabbed a pale, spidery limb. The creature resisted, shrieking and spitting, until Frodo and I dragged him off the ledge. Gollum hissed and threw me aside, into the rock. It cracked against my shoulder, but I ignored it. Gollum had tackled Frodo to the ground and was desperately grasping at the Ring. I grabbed Gollum's foot and dragged him off, but he kicked me back. Frodo grabbed him again, then, and Gollum turned on him once more. He flipped him over; the creature was horribly powerful for his size. I assumed it must be his conviction.

His fingers were grasping at the Ring, and I grabbed him around the waist, dragging him off of Frodo. Gollum turned on me, smacked our foreheads together, and the world spun. Then the creature chomped hard on my shoulder. I cried out and collapsed. Gollum clambered around my back, wrapped his legs around my waist, and locked his arm, crushing my neck. I sputtered and gasped; air did not come.

Then I heard the hiss of a blade, and suddenly Frodo stood over me. Sting filled my vision.

"This is Sting," Frodo said venomously. His tone frightened me, until I realized I wasn't the one being attacked. "You've seen it before, haven't you . . . Gollum?"

The creature sniffed, and I choked.

"Release her . . . or I'll cut your throat."

Slowly Gollum's arm relaxed, and I wrenched away, rubbing my neck. My blood pounded—convulsed—through the veins there, and I clenched it to quell the hard swells and shoves. Frodo grabbed Gollum's wrist, then turned back to me.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

I swallowed and nodded, unable to voice a response. I tried, but only a slight squeak/croak emerged.

"Get the rope," he said.

Gollum immediately began to wail. I cringed at the sound, and rushed for the Elvish rope. Once I'd brought it out, Frodo had to threaten Gollum again before the creature would calm down enough for me to loop a tie around his neck.

The line where Gollum had attempted to choke me burned as my blood healed the broken vessels and bones. I backed away from Gollum; now the creature terrified me.

Frodo laid the rope down and rolled a large stone over the edge, then turned to me, kneeling down close by. I shrank away, worried he might be sympathetic. We didn't have time for that.

"Are you all right?" His eyes flicked to my neck.

I assured him I was fine, but he wouldn't stop staring at my neck. I swallowed, wondering what on earth he was doing. He lifted his fingers, looking a little curious and a little pained. His fingers brushed my neck very carefully, and the pain receded a small bit. My eyes widened, and I glanced up at him. Why would he do this? Why now? It made no sense to me; my pulse raced and my mind muddled. Besides, feeling his fingers—caring and gentle as they were—anywhere near me gave me a good deal to think about. He backed away all too soon, and Gollum wailed yet again.

We weren't going to get any sleep that night, and Frodo recognized it right away; he told me we might as well press on.

Gollum wailed and shrieked the whole way, his voice growing hoarse. I wondered how long he could possibly go before he ran out of vocal cord.

A few hours into it, I could finally make out what he was saying.

"It burns! It burns us!"

Why I was the one dragging him along, I didn't know. If it had been up to me, we'd have tied his mouth shut, knocked him out with a rock, and carried him to Mordor. We couldn't let him go, and I didn't want to kill him. I would heal him, and he would live no matter what we decided.

Regardless, something came over me (pains, probably), and I abruptly turned, sharply snapping the rope, and stared hard at Gollum.

"Frodo, if this keeps up, all of Mordor is going to be drawn straight here," I said, trying to keep the malice out of my voice. "But we can't let him go; he'll kill us." I turned back. "I say we tie his mouth shut."

"No!" Gollum cried. "That would kill us, kill us!"

"You'd live," I muttered. "But that's not the question."

Frodo sighed. "Maybe he deserves to die."

I shook my head, and Gollum began to wail, frantically wallowing in the dust and stone.

"But now that I see him . . . I do pity him," Frodo admitted. I supposed I could see where that came from, but as long as he was a threat to Frodo, I didn't trust him. At the moment, he was almost as immediate a problem as the Ring.

At Frodo's statement, Gollum's expression became hopeful. "We swears to do whatever he wants," Gollum said reverently, bowing. "We swears to serve the Master of the Precious." Gollum eyed the Ring, and my eyes narrowed.

"There isn't a promise you can make that I would trust," Frodo said dangerously.

"We swears to be good!" Gollum cried. "We swears on . . . on . . . on the Precious!"

"The Ring is very treacherous," Frodo warned, "and will hold you to your word."

"He could be lying, Frodo," I said, and with that Gollum leaped away, strangling himself against the rope and rolling back down on the stones.

"Sev," Frodo said, gripping my upper arm, "we have to trust him." Frodo knelt down in front of Gollum, lifting the rope from off his neck. I winced; Frodo simply continued. "You know the way to Mordor. You've been there before," Frodo said.

Gollum nodded. "Yes."

"You will lead us to the Black Gate," Frodo said firmly.

I inhaled and exhaled largely.

This was going to be interesting.

And so it was. We followed him through zipping paths, places I'd never seen before. Gollum snapped at us to hurry up. Actually, more at Frodo: "Hurry up, Master!" he said. Oooh, that bothered me . . . as though he worshipped Frodo or something. Or perhaps it was only because of the Ring.

I could hear Gollum talking to himself, something about "they can't make us!" I cracked my knuckles. Frodo eyed me warily.

". . . and orcses, thousands of orcses, and always the Great Eye, always watching us." With that, Gollum turned, hissed loudly, and vanished.

Frodo and I ran to catch up, but I shook my head. "Frodo, he's gone," I admitted.

Then Gollum's head popped back up from the rocks. "Hurry, hobbitses! Mordor is a ways away yet!" Then he slipped away again. Frodo gave me a somewhat hopeful look and walked after him. I took up the back.

Once we turned a final corner, we got a decently exciting sight.

"See? Gollum showed you out," Gollum said cheerfully. The rocks were at last ended, and a stretch of flat plain was the only barrier between us and the mountains guarding the land of Mordor.

We had only taken a few steps before my foot abruptly jolted through the ground and into a puddle of murky, algae-cluttered water.

"A swamp," I muttered. This would be exciting. But it looked land-filled enough that I didn't anticipate carrying Frodo every step of the way. Ah, unfortunate for me—probably eternities better for Frodo. I eyed him somewhat wistfully. I'd be willing to do it, but I knew men were sensitive about being touched . . . not more so than myself, but I did love Frodo, had for years.

"Yes, yes, the swamp," Gollum said. "Hurry; Gollum will take you on safe paths through the mist."

As we progressed, Gollum continued his ominous commentary. "We found it; the safe way through the marshes. Orcses don't use it; orcses don't know it. They go around, for miles and miles and miles!"

After only a little while, we stopped so Frodo could eat . . . and so Gollum could ponder his poor fortune being unable to eat. I sat off to the side until I realized I was carrying the food. I sat at Frodo's feet, and when he didn't seem to mind I didn't move.

"Haven't seen a bird since coming here," I remarked. "It's so quiet."

"No, no crunchable birdses," Gollum moaned. He delightedly scooped up a worm. I looked away. Then he was right back to whining. Frodo cocked his head, snapped off a bit of lembas, and tossed it to Gollum. "Here."

"What is it?" Gollum asked excitedly. "Is it . . . tasty?"

Very much so, but I knew he wouldn't think as much. I squeezed my eyes shut, but couldn't quite block out the cry of rage that followed.

"We cant's eat hobbit food!" Gollum shouted. He groaned, rolling about helplessly. "We starves! We wastes away!" Gollum moaned loudly.

"There's not much we can do about that," I said.

"The girl one . . . she doesn't care! She doesn't care if we're hungry . . . she doesn't care if we die!" Then he looked to Frodo. "Not like Master." My hackles raised, and Frodo backed away just a little as Gollum advanced. Frodo pulled at the Ring.

"Yes, Master knows. Girl-one cannot know," Gollum said. "Once it grabs on, it never lets go . . ." He reached for the Ring.

I grabbed my knife, but apparently the Ring had it covered.

"Don't touch me," Frodo snapped, and Gollum recoiled. I could see the pain, the lonely pang, in his eyes as he backed away from Frodo, digging into the marsh to settle. I couldn't imagine; I glanced up at Frodo, particularly at his eyes. Being despised by such a one had to be painful. I almost felt for Gollum in that second or two.