"Getsss up!"

Frodo awoke to the irritable voice of Smeagol but refused to get up.

"We can't wake it! It won't move! Helpses us!" Smeagol wailed.

There was no answer for a long time. Shrell sat on the rocks, breaking a twig into pieces.

"Let him sleep. We are near our journey's end. It won't be long. Let him rest...." she trailed off.

~~

Frodo slowly opened his eyes. He felt drained. There was no sun. He looked around. Smeagol was lying on the rocks, Aquarius sprawled across his stomach. Frodo felt his heart ache. How brave they had all been. He didn't want to loose any of them.

He suddenly realized that Shrell was missing. He scanned the rocks over and over again but she was gone.

"Smeagol, where's Shrell?" he asked, his eye brows furrowed. Smeagol rested one of his elongated hands on Aquarius' head.

"Wentsss peeking and sneaking to seessss the dark ones-s-s. Doesn't want them followings us," Smeagol answered, sighing slightly.

Frodo nodded and started over the rocks. He didn't have to look long to find Shrell. She was sitting on a ledge overlooking the Nazgul. He saw her mouth form Sam's name in a horrified sorrow.

"Shrell?" Frodo placed a hand on her shoulder. She remained staring down at them but placed her hand on top of his.

"When will it end?" she mused.

She stood and turned to Frodo. Her eyes closed in thought.

"Sam and I destroyed the Ring...Yet it has returned. Will it come back again?" Frodo asked, looking at the thick, gray sky.

"I do not know, Frodo."

Shrell shook her head, then gazed back over the dead lands.

"I miss them," she murmured, faintly.

"As do I. What of Sam? What has become of him? He gave his life for us...." Frodo stared at the creatures below. Cold and feelingless, they would have torn Sam apart without a thought of pity.

Shrell shook her head.

"No. He would have killed the immortal and defied death to keep his word to you." She paused. "As would I."

Frodo felt his heart jolt. It was not of happiness, though. It was grief. Shrell would give her life for him and even near the end he could see hope in her clear eyes. Hope that he saw nowhere else.

He swallowed hard and pulled her into a bitter embrace.

"You already defied death. Twice," he whispered, resting his cheek on her hair.

"Third time pays for all," she choked. She then pulled away, looking down at the Nazgul. "We must go. We we'll reach the fires of Doom by nightfall. Come Frodo."

Frodo sighed and tried to follow but found it impossible to move. He fell to his knees, panting. Shrell turned around.

"Are you alright?"

Frodo reached into his pocket, the Ring was cold and heavy. The Ring! That was why he could not move.

"Yes....Fine."

He summoned up his strength and pulled himself to his feet, climbing over the rocks after Shrell.

~~

They departed without a word, Smeagol leading with Aquarius at his feet. The sky was thick and the Ring was heavy. On and on they trudged, their eyes on the fiery mountain not far above. Fumes filled the air and smoke stung their eyes. Mount Doom was merciless.

"Sauron the Black....once a wizard, now the Lord of Darkness..." Frodo whispered.

"Slave of power," Shrell answered, blinking back tears from the heat and smoke. Smeagol burst into a fit of coughing. He muttered and hissed and continued, his face black with soot, as was Frodo's and Shrell's.

Suddenly Frodo began to stagger, trying to keep himself up. The Ring, it was so heavy. Such a small thing could truly reflect it's evil. Frodo fell to his knees, his palms on the rocks. He tried to crawl but it was no use.

"Frodo?"

Shrell turned and doubled back.

"The Ring feels so heavy....." Frodo gasped, tears from the smoke trickling down his cheeks. Shrell grimaced and placed his arm over her shoulder.

"We must keep going, for Middle-Earth..."

They continued on far into the night, Frodo slowing down their pace greatly.

"Stop, Smeagol. We must rest," Shrell called, dropping Frodo off her back. "I can carry him no farther."

Smeagol nodded. They sat among the rocks, no one saying a word, their hearts heavy.

Frodo scanned the group. Smeagol was running a finger over Aquarius' head. Even the small creature seemed to know what was coming. It stared up at Smeagol with it's neon pink eyes. Shrell was wearing a brave sort of grimace. She looked ready to face the end. Frodo felt a lump rise in his throat and he felt sickened. His shoulders were beginning to ache more potently and he found himself slumping to bear the weight of the Ring.

No one rested. Fear and sorrow were too geat of things to be surpassed by sleep. So Frodo stared up at the gray-black sky, paralyzed by the great weight of the Ring. He could except his fate, but he could not except theirs. If were to die, then so be it. But couldn't they live?

~~

The day was as black as the night, or was it night? There wasn't a difference. The Ring was so heavy, it drained Frodo with every step. Every few strides he'd collapse. Smeagol and Shrell had grown so used to this that they hardly paid any heed. Frodo felt very alone. He wished with all his heart that Shrell would turn to face him and give him a burst of strength with a word of wisdom, but Shrell continued on, looking fierce and brave. Frodo had seen that face before, the look of having nothing to lose and facing danger with no regret. He had seen that face before....

Even as Shrell was short and her stride was small, Frodo could see some part of Aragorn in her. That look he had once worn was now placed an her face. Frodo could feel that all of them were with him. His companions, dead or alive, would always be with him.

"Frodo."

He turned to see Shrell, her eyes softened by the smoke. He nodded.

"You'll be free from all of this soon. Hold on a little longer."

Frodo could see the fires raging in Mt. Doom as she spoke. It would not be long now. He forced himself to take another step, but with a cry of agony he doubled over. Shrell's eyes widened.

"Smeagol!" she cried. "Help me carry him."

Smeagol scampered over the rock to Frodo's other side. They both lifted him by the arms and continued. They staggered towards those eerie fires. Every part of Frodo wanted to run. He looked at Shrell and Smeagol's determined faces and pushed on every part of him swelling with pain.

He would be content to die when this was through. He would see the Ring to it's end, but after that he would fight no longer. Death would be welcomed. He did not want the same for Shrell, though. He knew that she would gladly die with him, but he wanted her to live. A thought in the back of his mind kept at him, though. A voice, a low, hard voice.

'But you're the one that is meant to live, you're the one,' it whispered. But he did not want to live.

~~

The fires, the fumes. Frodo choked. He couldn't see where he was but he could sense it. The Ring had grown so heavy that even Smeagol and Shrell were nearly crawling, but it didn't really matter. They were so close now that if they crawled it wouldn't make a difference. It haze that covered his eyes cleared and an energy so powerful seared through him.

"Frodo?" Shrell called. Her voice was distant. Frodo wanted her close, he was afraid. He swallowed and looked into the flames.

"Frodo, cast the Ring into the fires!"

She was behind him somewhere. He extended his hand, Ring clasped tight within it.

Suddenly there was a burst of flame and Frodo was thrown backwards. Pain encased his body. He looked up. Above him loomed a shadow, a spirit. An eye wreathed in pain bore into his soul. The Dark Lord, Sauron.

A cry came from beside him. Frodo turned to see Shrell, dagger in each hand. She dove at the Dark Lord, her eyes blazing.

'No, Shrell. It's useless. He does not have physical form, you cannot defeat him....' but his thoughts were in vain and not a word could penetrate the air around them.

Shrell flung herself again and again at the spirit in useless attempt, each time being thrown back against the rocks. He daggers had no effect. Blood dripped down her hands and her face, her eyes were gray, as though dead.

"No!" Frodo cried, but his words could not be heard.

Shrell shuddered, the blood draining from her face. She hurled herself against the Dark Lord again. She was flung to the ground on the ledge over looking the fires.

Shrell staggered to her feel, looking pale and forlorn, but fierce. She gripped her daggers tightly. Sauron approached her, the figurless shadow seemed to grow larger.

Suddenly the tips of Shrell's blades began to crack and crumble to dust. Then the rest of her blades crumbled, and last the hilts. She tilted her palms upward as the last grains of dust sifted through her fingers. She looked up at Sauron, her eyes filled with hatred and fear.

Frodo had never seen Shrell look like that. The fear in her eyes was unbearable and chilled him to the bone. He was so afraid.

Shrell's gaze shifted to him. The fear faded from her face and her eyes seemed to lighten and regain the color of the water, even though the hope was gone. Then she closed them. A shudder ran through her body, then she was perfectly still. A peaceful smile crossed her deathly face.

Then her eyes opened. They were hard and dead, gray. She turned from Frodo. She tilted her arms upwards. Then she tuned and plunged into the flames.

Frodo couldn't breath. Hot tears blurred his vision. In rage he dove at the Dark Lord, only to be thrown back. Blood and tears filled his eyes. He flung himself again and again at the Dark Lord. Again and again he hit the rocks.

Frodo wiped the the blood from his eyes. He looked behind him. The fires raged and the smoke made his eyes sting. In the midst of the fumes he could see that deathly image of Shrell as she leapt in to the flames.

He wanted to join her. He moved closer to the edge. He let his body fall forward. He knew it would end there. Suddenly he stopped falling. Something held him around both shoulders as he stared into the flames.

'But you're the one that was meant to live, you're the one....'

Frodo extended his hand and dropped the Ring. It spun around and around and finally disappeared into the abyss.

Frodo turned to face the Dark Lord. Two shadowy hands stretched upwards. Screams and shrieks filled the air around him. Sauron's fingers crumbled and faded to dust, then the arms and hands until there was nothing left.

Frodo collapsed on the ground.

"No! It wasn't supposed to happen this way," he sobbed. "Let me die here! Let me die now!"

'But you are the one that's meant to live......"

To be continued.