Chapter Rating: PG

Chapter Title: Over the Edge

"Sam… you should have left me to die on that mountain."

Frodo sighed, bowed his head, closed his eyes, and crumpled into a heap kneeling on the kitchen floor, his hands turned palm up resting against his thighs. It was an unconscious gesture of utter defeat. He had placed himself in a position ready for sacrificial slaughter; awaiting the expected blow with resignation.

Sam stood above him, in shock, his mouth slightly open as if he were going to repudiate Frodo's outburst, but then was struck dumb. There weren't enough words in Middle Earth to describe his feelings at that moment.

Iris could hardly believe what she had just heard. Frodo had confessed to cursing and then killing the creature he called Smeagol. Sam had tried to explain Frodo's actions away, but ended up verifying them instead. Iris didn't know a lot about the One Ring, but its power over mortals was legendary. Frodo was not inherently evil. How had he been put into such a terrible moral dilemma?

She softly walked over to Frodo and knelt at his side, just out of his peripheral vision.

"Frodo? How long did you carry the Ring on your person?"

He did not move while he answered. It was as if he were answering to an unseen judge who held a glass-sharp sword above his neck, ready to strike.

"The entire journey. I carried it around my neck on a chain from September until It was destroyed on March 25th."

Sam removed his cloak and knelt before Frodo, careful not to touch him. Iris continued her questioning.

"How long did you have the Ring before you started your journey?"

"Fifteen years. I hid It for fifteen years in the Shire."

"In all that time, could you have ever voluntarily let it receive any hurt?"

"No. Once Gimli tried to destroy it during the Council of Elrond."

"What happened?"

"I did not know he was going to attempt to destroy the Ring, or I would have never placed It where he could have reached it. When the axe struck the Ring, I was the one who felt the blow. Gimli's axe shattered."

"So you were already inextricably linked to the Ring, even then?"

"Yes."

Tears were running down Sam's face.

"Was there any time when you could have voluntarily given up the Ring to someone else?"

"Yes. Well…no. I tried to. I tried to get Gandalf to take It. I offered It to the Lady of the Woods. But even when I did so, I would have never actually given the Precious to them. They both wisely refused. They are very wise. Once you have the Ring, It eats your mind. You eventually loose yourself in Its lust. You become the vial of its evil."

"Did Gandalf or Lord Elrond know you could not voluntarily give up the Ring?"

"Yes. Gandalf knew. He even showed me how difficult it would be for me to do so, even way back when I first inherited the Ring. Bilbo was the only one in history to actually voluntarily give up the Ring. Gandalf wanted me to throw It into the fireplace so he could read its secret writing. I did not know that was what he wanted. I could not bring myself to throw It in. He snatched the envelop containing the Precious out of my hands and threw it into the fireplace before I could react. I would have burned my hands trying to retrieve It out of the fire if he had not held me back. Even then, even before I started keeping It on my person at all times, even then I could not have done It any harm, nor have voluntarily given It up."

"Yet your task was to take it to Mount Doom and throw it into the fire, even though they knew you could not do it?"

At this question Sam spoke up. "No Mam. He weren't asked to destroy the Ring. His job was just to take the Ring to the Mountain. Just get it there. I don't know if anyone knew what would happen once we got there. It was hopeless all along, really. Maybe they thought he could resist the Ring's power or something. None of them could, they sure knew that. They knew it had to be thrown into the fire, but nobody asked him to do that. Even the great Isildur couldn't resist it's lure. Would you have agreed to do that Mister Frodo? To destroy it?"

"No." Frodo opened his eyes and looked at Sam.

"Lord Elrond only asked my master to do what he was capable of doing," Sam said.

Iris continued the questioning. "Frodo? Did you agree to do this freely…to take the Ring to Mount Doom?"

"Yes. But the Council really had no choice. No one else could touch it and not be corrupted. It could tempt people without them even seeing it, much less touching it, or carrying it. I was already corrupted. I had It for years. But I could still execute my free will most of the time. Lord Elrond said I had exhibited extraordinary resistance to the Ring. And Gandalf had proven I would go mad if the Ring was forcibly taken from me. I was the only logical choice."

"What did you plan on doing with the ring once you reached the mountain?"

Frodo sighed and closed his eyes again. "I never expected to reach Mount Doom. I expected to be captured by the orcs and taken to Sauron for torture and eventual death. I never expected to actually reach Oroduin. I thought I was too weak. That was why a Fellowship was formed. In case I was unable to continue the mission, one of the others would. Perhaps Sam or Merry or more likely, Pippin. It was only through Sam's vigilance and Smeagol's guidance that I ever reached Oroduin."

"But you must have anticipated destroying the Ring when you got to Mordor."

Frodo raised his maimed hand to his chest, cradling it in his good hand, rubbing the stump of his missing ring finger and rocking back and forth slightly.

Sam interrupted. "Iris! That's enough! He doesn't want to think about that. Leave 'em rest."

Frodo opened his eyes. He reached out his left hand to Sam. Sam took it, came over and knelt at Frodo's side, putting his strong arm around Frodo's stooped shoulders.

"Sam…let me talk," Frodo sighed. "I might as well get it all out of me." He turned and looked over his shoulder at Iris. She moved and knelt before him so that she was now directly in front of Frodo and he was able to look her in the eyes.

"Frodo? You must have thought about destroying the Ring," she prompted.

"Yes. I thought about it every waking second on our march to Mordor. The Precious wanted me to put It on. To let the Nazgul find me and take me to Barad-dur. It blinded me. It appeared to me as a wheel of fire. It whispered constantly in my head. It would be so easy to give up and let the Nazgul take me. No more starvation. No more dreadful thirst. No shameful reliance on others. On Sam. Precious promised me Sam would not be harmed. It said I could command the Nazgul. I could sweep my arms and all wrongs would be righted. All woes turned to gladness. All sorrows turned to joy. It even promised to raise my parents from the dead. To relive my childhood the way it should have been. I knew It lied. I wanted to cast It into the fire. To unmake It. To unmake its lies. But I had carried it too long. It knew me too well. We were one…the Ring and I…both evil.

I planned on casting myself into the fire, taking the Ring with me...freeing Middle Earth from its evil. I was deceived. The Ring knew I could never harm It. It was Precious. It let me think those thoughts until it was too late and I had no choice."

"What do you mean 'You had no choice'?"

"I could not choose. I was compelled to put It on. I was compelled to claim It. I could not even control my own hands. I watched in horror as my own hand reached for the chain around my neck and placed Precious on my ring finger. I could not stop myself. And Sam was wounded. He could not help me again. He was lying on the cold stone floor with his head gashed and bleeding. There would be no help."

"Where were you?"

"Inside Orodruin. On the ledge leading to the fires. There was a smooth road carved out of the rock under my feet. The Precious forced me to look out the hallway, past Sam, through the carved door and see directly to His throne in Barad-dur. HE was there. The Eye was there. He was aware of me. He finally saw me. Precious was screaming to be reunited with him. The Eye and the Wheel were One. I could not find myself inside the Wheel. I was nothing. I am nothing."

"Where was Smeagol?"

"I could not see him at first. When you are in the Wheel of Fire you do not perceive the physical world well. You see the shadow world. It was already too late when I noticed him."

"How did he appear to you?"

"Loathsome. A small thread of sick lust and hate. The Precious hated him. The Precious had rejected him a long time ago. I pitied him. I knew I was becoming him."

"What happened next?"

A tear rolled down Frodo's anguished face. Sam gathered his distressed friend into his arms.

"One thing at a time, Mister Frodo," Sam whispered. "We're here with you. We'll help you through. Take it just one small step at a time."

"Smeagol attacked me while the Precious was upon me." Frodo's voice pleaded for understanding. "He…he… I…"

"Where was Smeagol?" Iris quietly prompted.

"He was hunched over Sam. He had a bloody rock in his hand. I do not know how he could see me, but he knew exactly where I was on that ledge. He looked directly at me with those huge unblinking green eyes. He hissed like a snake. He ran right to me before he could finish with Sam. He grabbed my hands. He had blood on his hands. Sam's blood.

He grabbed me while I was inside the Wheel of Fire. I was captive inside the Eye of Sauron. I had no strength to fight them both. I was nothing. The Nazgul were coming for me. I was trying to hide from the Eye when I felt his hands on my throat and on my hand.

Precious was being attacked! Precious commanded me to fight. I lacked the strength to resist. I should have let Smeagol's momentum carry us both over the edge and into the fire. But I could not control my body. The Ring forced me to fight. I lacked the strength to really fight. Smeagol…he…he pulled my hand to his mouth…his sharp, pointed teeth… I tried to pull my hand away… He…he…Sweet Elbereth, I watched him bite my finger off!"

Frodo had turned ghostly white. He was staring off into space. He held his wounded hand, rubbing the stump of his missing ring finger. Sam was weeping, gently rocking Frodo back and forth while holding him in his arms.

Iris let them comfort each other as best they could. She was having a hard time keeping her own emotions under control. She was appalled at what Frodo was saying. She wanted to reach out and comfort her friends. She longed to cradle them both as her wounded children, and tell them it would be all right – Mother would fix it. But it would not be all right, and they all knew it. She could never fix this deep a hurt. She could only offer an outlet for self-healing.

After a short while Sam was able to control his weeping. He still gently rocked Frodo in his arms. Frodo had closed his eyes, lost in his personal memories for the moment. Iris knew she had to finish what he had started. She hated doing it, but she disturbed the silence.

"Frodo? What did you feel after Smeagol bit off your finger?"

Sam looked up at Iris with inexpressible sadness. Frodo did not open his eyes. He leaned his head back into Sam's shoulder, as if to gather strength from his best friend.

"Relief. I was free from the Wheel of Fire. I was no longer in the Eye's gaze. Then I felt the pain."

"Physical pain?"

"No. Not pain from my hand. I could not feel my body at that moment. I mean, I could see my hand and it was bleeding profusely. I knew I cried out, but it was someone else's voice. It was as if I was looking at someone else's hand.

The pain was…was… The Ring had been cut from me. I was no longer in It. It was gone! There was nothing. A hole. A hole in me. And he had It. That loathsome, vile, wasted ghost had the Precious."

Frodo sat up and looked at Iris. Sam kept his hands on Frodo's shoulders, just in case Frodo lost control of himself.

"I was filled with jealousy and hatred for the thing that had the Ring. I tried to lunge at him, but my body refused to obey. I fell down at Smeagol's feet. He was dancing. Dancing! And cackling. He was drunk with the Ring's power. I could see my finger still thrust through the Wheel of Fire. It dripped gore. He was spattered with blood from Sam and now me. If I had once held pity for Smeagol, it was no longer there.

I lusted after the Ring. I HAD to get it back. It was mine! He jumped and waved the Ring around with my finger still in it. That was when the Ring commanded me to one final action. I had cursed Smeagol with the power of the Ring upon me. The Ring forced me to enact my own curse since I had evoked It in the curse. It declared that I had to kill Smeagol. Right then. So I pushed him over the edge and into the fires."

"Frodo? Why would the Ring command you to do something which would result in its own destruction?"

Frodo hesitated. He blinked and slumped back into Sam's arms. "But It didn't command me to destroy Itself. It commanded me to kill Smeagol."

"So you had a choice of how to kill Smeagol?"

Sam's eyes bored into Iris's. He was becoming angry with her incessant questioning of his master. "What kind of question is that? Doctor, can't you let it go?"

"Be quiet Sam," she calmly replied. "This question is for Frodo." Turning her gaze back to him, she quietly asked, "Frodo? Did you have a choice of how to kill Smeagol?"

"Yes." He was unsure about where she was leading him, but was simultaneously curious. He left the safety of Sam's protective arms, leaning forward on his knees until he could almost touch Iris.

"If you were free to choose how to kill Smeagol, why did you decide to push him over the edge? Think carefully."

Frodo was silent, thinking back to that horrible moment. Sam worried eyes were trained on Frodo's back, watching for what he did not know. Finally Frodo closed his eyes and slightly bowed his head.

"I finally had control over my own mind. I thought, if I was compelled to kill Smeagol, this was the one way to do so and also complete my mission. Smeagol could carry the Ring into the Fires of Mount Doom instead of me. Smeagol could be sacrificed. He would not mind."

"What do you mean, 'He would not mind?'"

"It would be a release for him. He could finally die. And he would have the Precious with him to the end. His life was so bound up with the Ring, he was given unnatural longevity. It was not a gift. It was a curse. It was one of the ways the Ring tortured Its keepers. It did it to Bilbo. It did it to me as well. But Smeagol had to endure it for 500 years. Death would be a blessing for him. And his death would also guarantee the final destruction of the Ring. So…so I pushed him over the edge."

"Frodo, you completed your mission in the only way possible for its success," Iris said. "You acted in the only rational way available in an impossible, terrible situation. There is no need for self-incrimination. You are not evil. The choice you made was not evil. No one places any blame on you. If not for your choice, we would all be dead or worse. Please forgive yourself."

She and Sam stood up and helped Frodo to his feet.

"I am tired," Frodo sighed.

"You've been to the edge and back," Sam said as he steadied Frodo. "Take a rest. I'll come get you later." Frodo nodded his acceptance. Iris sat down at the kitchen table as Sam led Frodo to his bedroom.

Sam soon returned. "He's already asleep," he said as he sank into a chair.

Iris was trying to sort out all the thoughts flying through her mind. She turned to Sam. "I don't have any background about what you two actually did while on this quest to destroy the Ring. But I can't imagine a more wretched moral dilemma to find myself in. It's a wonder he didn't loose his mind right then and there. It's more of a wonder he is functioning at all."

"He's strong, my master is," Sam replied. "But you were sure pushing it. I know he has to talk it out, but I wouldn't try doing it alone like that no more. You took an awful chance."

Iris blanched at the sudden realization of what Sam just said. Frodo could have reacted violently at the release of his suppressed memories and emotions. He had tried to warn her earlier.

"Oh, Elbereth! Sam, thank the stars you came in when you did. Do you think he has anything worse locked away in his head?"

"No. This were it. Destroying the Ring was the worse thing. There's plenty 'o nasty things you don't know about. Well…not yet anyway. But this were the worse."

"Then we need to keep a watch on Frodo tonight, Sam," Iris said. "I'm concerned he might try to do himself harm. Will you stay with him tonight? I need to go back to Hobbiton and get some herbs to help calm his mind and let him rest."

Sam's face saddened and became wistful.

"'Don't you leave him Samwise Gamgee.' That's what Mister Gandalf said to me. I thought Master was safe enough here at home in Bag End 'sos that I could leave 'em for awhile. I was wrong. I won't leave 'em again. I'll be here. You can count on it."