Sev shook her head repeatedly as she raced down the stairs. Her steps were uneven. She could hardly see past her tears. She hadn't stopped them since the moment Frodo left her on the stairs of Cirith Ungol. She couldn't believe he would abandon her like that. Of course the Ring had so much to do with it . . . but she thought he loved her.

Her head trembled madly. She would go drain herself now. With no way to protect Frodo anymore, she could die. She wanted to before something awful happened to him and all of Middle Earth collapsed just because the Ring was stronger than any other force in this world. Bitterness and despair clambered through her, as well as guilt for not following him despite his assertions.

One particularly steep sector of stairs met Sev, and she slipped on one of them. She crashed against the stone, banging down a few of the steps before slapping against a small outcropping of rock. She gasped as sharp stone carved into her flesh. She glanced up at the endless ranks of orcs as they left Minas Morgul. So much for killing herself; they would take care of it easily, if she survived getting down the stairs.

Sev braced herself up to keep going, but then she spotted something white among the dark stone. She reached forward, disbelieving. She gently scooped up the lembas bread before her. Then a sudden conviction—the realization that much as she loved Frodo, he didn't know everything—swept over her. Perhaps he needed her. And Gollum had a plot against him.

Sev spun around. She couldn't let him fall to the creature's hands. Her eyebrows narrowed, and the black blood in her eyes thickened dangerously. She stuffed the lembas in her pocket and began racing up the stairs.

"I'm coming, Frodo."

Frodo stumbled blindly over the last few steps. Finally a flat platform awaited him, but he hardly noticed the transition despite the significant drop in amount of effort. Every step dragged harder and harder on him as Smeagol goaded him on, on towards a tunnel. The Ring pushed him as well, although Frodo did not understand why. Why would the Ring push him towards its doom? Perhaps in an attempt to get back to its Master; its fall and salvation lay in the same land.

As Frodo approached the tunnel, an overwhelming darkness, rank with some scent that his nose couldn't pick up as well as his mind could, sifted his senses about. He lifted his hand to his face, staring into the blackness. Something invited him inside, something he didn't want to know about.

"What is this place?" Frodo breathed. There was something horribly off about it.

"The tunnel," Smeagol insisted. "The way into Mordor."

Frodo hesitated outside, not willing to go in. He stared at the empty darkness; he couldn't.

"Master must go inside the tunnel," Smeagol prompted impatiently.

Frodo shook his head slowly. He had a gut feeling; he couldn't want to go inside.

"There's something in there," he breathed. "Now that I'm here, I don't want to go in."

Gollum just about hissed at him. But he had one other outlet into Frodo. "If you do not go in, you must go back." He sat back smugly to watch Frodo's reaction; he knew Frodo's dedication to his quest, even if the Ring ate away at his strength every day.

Frodo exhaled slowly, setting himself. He hadn't lost Sev just to abandon the quest now. "I can't go back." He stepped inside, almost limping with the effort it took to drag himself forward. Gollum resisted cheering to himself and began leaping through the dark tunnels.

"This way!" Gollum called out, slipping through corners. Frodo strained to keep up, but Smeagol did not wait for him. Soon he lost the creature; he pursued him helplessly, staring this way and that through the midnight tunnels.

"Smeagol!" he called out. "Smeagol?"

Soon he heard Smeagol's voice. "This way!"

He had no idea where it was coming from, but he went through the tunnels in the way he assumed best. Oh, how he wished Smeagol would come back and find him.

Finally he tripped over a soft rock and smacked into the wall of the tunnel. He felt a webby stickiness. He rubbed his fingers together to get rid of the gummy residue on them.

"It's sticky!" he cried out initially. "What is it?" Perhaps Smeagol hadn't been in this tunnel for long enough to know everything in here; perhaps he didn't know what he'd dragged Frodo into.

Then Smeagol's voice came, smug and ominous, through the tunnels. "You will see," he said, almost taunting. "Oh, you will see." Frodo continued walking, but as he continued calling out Smeagol's name it was apparent to him that Sev had been right the entire time. Gollum had been trying to betray him, and Frodo had told her to go home. It hit him then, just how he had told her to end what she'd repeatedly written in her journal was all she had left.

Now she would kill herself.

Frodo's resolve crumbled. "Sev," he managed, glancing around him hopelessly. "I'm so sorry." He blindly began to forge his way out, unable to rely on anything or anyone else any longer. He was now truly alone, in a place he knew was wrong and dangerous for him. He just had to get out and destroy the Ring now.

He couldn't even hope that Sev would be all right. Tears streaked down his face; he daren't think about that now, or he would get nowhere.

Sev felt a streak of triumph as she cleared the last stair and spotted the tunnel rather quickly. She had to hold herself back from racing inside: something dark called to her. She ignored it as best she could; she had to rescue Frodo. She scrambled back from the stone opening, set her convictions not to get addicted to whatever was inside, and barreled right into the void.

Her hands brushed the wall so she could find her way, and she soon met a powerful stickiness. Convinced by her fears and considerations of worst possible scenarios as initiated by Gollum that it was Frodo's blood, she gasped and leaped away from the wall. Then she rubbed her fingers together; they were perfectly dry.

As she continued racing along the tunnels, more confused than before, Frodo also tried to fight his way through the confusing maze. He tripped over another soft rock . . . then realized as he landed in a pile of stickiness that it was an orc skeleton. His gaze jolted, terrified, around the chamber surrounding him. The corpses of birds, orcs, and other large animals hung from various points in the ceiling. Mortified, Frodo scrambled back. But he was only further coated in the webbing around him. Sev soon recognized the carcasses as well . . . and subsequently her fear quickened. She knew of Shelob, the terror of Cirith Ungol. How she could have forgotten, she didn't know. Willation had warned her, had told her she would become a symbiont with Shelob for evil and malice if she was not careful.

Frodo was fairly sure he understood the threat now: a huge spider, or some other creature that spun webs. But a spider seemed the most likely. The thickness of the web threads revealed that, if it was a spider, it was a huge one. Fear built up in Frodo as he backed hopelessly into the web behind him. He let out a cry of disgust and hopelessness. He grabbed at the Ring, for that had become his painful catharsis as of recent times. But then he remembered the light of Earendil.

Let it be a light for you in dark places when all other lights are gone out.

Frodo withdrew the light from within his cloak, but it was dim. He closed his eyes, feeling in his association with the Elves how to awaken the light. It took some time to come to him, but finally it trickled into him as initially as words in his own language. "Aiya Earendil . . . elenion ancalima!" He lifted the vial into the air, and the liquid within glowed blue-white.

Sev heard the chant. Relief hit her when she realized Frodo was still alive, and she dashed through the tunnels desperately to find him.

Frodo lifted the light and began to stand . . . but felt a chill of apprehension trickle up his spine. He turned slowly, only to see a huge, horse-sized spider slowly releasing itself from the wall.

Once Frodo saw the spider and tensed, it unfolded entirely from the crevice from where it hid and began shrieking. Frodo lifted Earendil and unsheathed Sting, advancing on the spider. At the shine of the light it shrieked again, this time more high-pitched and pained. It scrambled away from him, and he turned to run.

Sev heard the spider and continued to follow, even though she knew she might not be fast enough. She took off one tunnel after another, but she didn't know how to find her way through this terrifying labyrinth. The sounds ricocheted painfully around the tunnels. She couldn't put down a direction in which to pursue Frodo.

The spider chased Frodo down an open cavern. He slipped into a small hole he caught a glimpse of, and the spider could not follow him inside. But his hands grew slick as he fell, and he lost his grip on the light of Earendil. It settled against the ground above him and dimmed slightly.

The spider forced him away from the hole, biting inside until she realized she couldn't bring him back. She turned to find him; she knew how to get down there. Frodo realized he had to hurry.

Sev came from the other direction moments later, and the vial caught her eye. The glow was fading, but when she touched it the light returned. She held it up to her face, tears of gratitude stinging her cheeks: the glass was still warm. She turned, unsure which direction he had gone, and followed the tunnel Shelob had taken.

Frodo kept an eye out behind him as he ran, but in one of those moments that he glanced back to ensure she wasn't sneaking up on him he slammed into a wall of web that quickly wrapped around him—his feet no longer touched the ground as the web strands wriggled all over him. He struggled mightily with the sticky net until he heard Gollum ahead of him. Sev heard him as well; she was following the spider, although unknowingly, towards Frodo.

The hobbit glanced back; the spider approached him, trying to shove its way through the broken web towards him. He scrambled to break free as Gollum spoke.

"Naughty little fly," the creature said smugly, "why does it cry? Dangling in the web, soon you will be . . ." He paused, crouching up on a rock where Frodo could finally see him. A gleam of malice illuminated his eyes, one Frodo had not seen since Gollum nearly strangled Sev. "Eaten."

Frodo cried out, anger fabricated by the Ring emphasizing his desire to survive. Sev perked up and pursued the sound, now close. Her heart thudded in anticipation. Gollum screeched in horror as Frodo shoved Sting through the strands of web and snapped free. But he wound Sting up too tightly in the web, and he had to leave it behind: the spider was too close.

He broke out into the open, finally. He breathed hard, almost unable to walk. Webbing covered him in patches, and he almost did not want to walk anymore. Then Gollum hissed and tackled him from behind, shoving him to the ground.

Frodo lost self-consciousness almost immediately as the Ring took over. He flipped over, suddenly stronger than Gollum with his psychological pain piqued. He shoved the creature to the ground and wrapped his fingers around his throat. The Ring produced his fear and apprehension during those moments when Sev had almost died, and he was ready to let that anger out on Gollum.

But then Smeagol's voice came back to him. "Master!" Gollum cried.

Frodo's expression twisted, and then he released Gollum, falling back with the realization of what he had been about to do. He shook his head, remembering how he had almost killed Sev the same way. And he had thrown her away because of the Ring. He swallowed, staring down at Gollum. The creature rubbed his neck; the image of her bruise shot through Frodo's mind.

"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I have to destroy it, Gollum; for both our sakes." He stood, exhausted, and turned to finish the Ring for good.

Gollum's expression hardened. He could never believe again that Frodo meant him any good, especially not now that he intended to destroy the Ring. He snarled and leaped up onto Frodo's back, grappling for the Ring. Taken aback, Frodo fell to the ground. Gollum collapsed from the momentum, tumbling into the blackness of the cliff outside the spider's cave with an echoing screech.

Frodo didn't think Gollum was dead. He couldn't now; he didn't have time to feel sorrow, guilt, or remorse for the poor creature. Chances were excellent that Gollum would be all right. He didn't want to dwell on the alternative. He stood and began stumbling across the dark rock of his path towards Mordor.

Sev nearly smacked headfirst into Sting. It was wrapped hard into the webbing, as though twisted in on purpose. She grabbed it and wrenched hard, but the web was too thick. She glanced around at the former wall now scattered in threads around the floor; she only was glad that she couldn't see Frodo's corpse anywhere. But she could see the tail end of a huge spider disappearing through a nearby tunnel.

She hurriedly unwrapped Sting from the web, glancing down different corridors, but the obvious way seemed to be ahead. Especially if Shelob decided to go down that way. Her pulse quickened; she hoped she wasn't too late.

She leaped through the tunnels, shouting his name. "Frodo!" She wanted him to respond, to tell her where he had gone, to let her know he was still alive. She could no longer see the spider, but she kept moving on.

"Frodo!"

As Frodo limped along the wall, exhausted and beaten, he could swear he heard Sev behind him. He hoped she hadn't been killed. Pain overtook him, and he collapsed against the wall. "I'm sorry, Sev." He bit his lip, breathing hard to bite back all of the despair he felt. Flashes, images, of seeing her stabbed and broken hit him. His knee collided with the ground, and his last bits of strength escaped. "I'm so sorry," he breathed. Then his eyes rolled back and he faceplanted into the hard earth.

Sev's eyes shot open wide when the world around her changed . . . the dark caves of the great spider became a bright, green forest. Frodo felt grass on his face as he pulled back, and she spotted his movement. Her eyes shot wide open. She hoped he could see her; she didn't know if she existed in this situation—what seemed to be a vision.

Then Lady Galadriel stepped into the forest. Frodo stared up at her, hardly believing the beautiful place he'd been brought to. It looked like a brighter sort of Lothlorien, peaceful and soft like he needed. He didn't understand why he was here, but he knew he didn't want to leave. Not now, not with reality out there to face him. He felt the burden, but not entirely. Something was different here.

Galadriel stepped closer to him; he didn't stand up. She looked so graceful and bright, completely flawless, completely opposite of what Frodo felt. She spoke powerfully without opening her mouth—her voice echoed through the wood as she spoke to Frodo.

"This task was appointed to you, Frodo of the Shire." She knelt down close to him, then turned to Sev. Frodo glanced the same direction and stiffened. Sev could do nothing more than gawk for the moment or two it took her to briskly run to Frodo. "If you don't find a way," the Elf continued, "no one will."

Sev couldn't speak. She was utterly shocked, having been attempting to cut herself off in case he died. But he was before her. She reached out slightly.

Frodo shook his head. "Sev, I'm so sorry." He couldn't imagine she was truly before him, but if she was with Galadriel she was safe. But that meant he would be taking the journey alone.

He stared down at her hand, now extended to him. He flicked his eyes to Lady Galadriel as well, then set his face in dark determination. His fingers slipped into place along Sev's scar, and she smiled before pulling him to his feet. It felt so literal, as though she actually had him.

Frodo stood abruptly, back in Shelob's cave. But his determination had not left him. He walked forward, delibration in every step, even though he was badly hurt enough to stumble a little.

Sev gasped when the vision snapped away. Her hand was still open, bent as though closed around his hand. She tightened her fist and held it to her heart: she could still feel his touch. She sprang through the tunnel. She would find him; she could find him.

The hobbit found a tower topped with a red light. He slipped into hiding beside an outcropping before a staircase that led to said tower. He glanced around, trying to locate a guard, but he could see nothing, so he crept out into the open.

Shelob unfolded perfectly silently from a breach in the wall above him. Hobbit smelled good, perhaps the most fleshy, healthy living thing she'd smelled in decades. She had to eat it. She crawled along the stone above him, ready to drop down and sting him.

Sev's gaze flickered over the rock as she raced along, and once she turned one last sharp corner she saw him. She inhaled sharply, then sprang ahead, dodging juts and crevices of rock.

"Frodo!"

Frodo thought he heard a voice behind him, and spun around. He could see nothing.

The spider pulled herself back up into the rock, then ducked down at his back. Sev gaped, almost slowing when Shelob produced her stinger. Frodo, having not seen Sev, turned to continue.

"Frodo, get down!" Sev's voice strained with sudden fear and shock.

Frodo didn't hear that one: Shelob shoved her stinger into his shoulder suddenly. He jolted with a groan as numbing pain branched through his bloodstream, and he fell to the ground unconscious.