The Golden Elanor

by Citoyenne Jennie Ainsley

LotR/Scarlet Pimpernel; In a time of war and terror, one man stands forth to right the wrongs of the Uruks, his identity hidden behind the small golden flower of Lorien.

3. Chapters 21 through The End

Chapter Twenty-One:

Suspense

            Although Frodo saw to it that their journey was made in excellent haste – the fastest of horses bought at every outposting from Hobbiton to Rivendell, over the High Pass, fast ships procured to guide them down the Anduin, safely past Rauros, and safely down the remainder of the Anduin towards the ruins of an old tower, Frodo told her – Rosie could not help feeling heartsick at their slow pace. With every moment passed, she could feel Sam slipping further and further from her grasp, and Lotho getting closer and closer.

            Frodo remained silent as well, obviously just as worried and disheartened as she, though he attempted to hide it. For him, the peril all of Middle-Earth stood in was weighed more heavily in his mind – if Sam was found, the Ring would be found as well and all would be lost. For Rosie, the threat of the Ring was never considered – all she knew was that if Sam were found, she would be lost. And such threw both of them into a deep state of despair, which made the miles seem too long and the hours too short.

Chapter Twenty-Two:

Osgiliath

            Days, weeks, months: Rosie had not the slightest of ideas how long they traveled. No matter the speed of their travel, they had quite a distance to cover and the greatest of importance rested upon their heads, which will make any journey seem overly long. How Frodo and Rosie managed to remain calm and keep from going mad is anyone's conjecture – all that can be said is that they did and eventually their path led them to the ruins of the Citadel of the Stars, the great watchtower set up directly upon the Anduin, fallen all those years before.

            As Frodo moored the boat, Rosie wandered about the fallen ruins, walking along the great bridge and peering down into the inky waters beneath her. The great stone fortress, once so strong and mighty, was now nothing more than fallen rock and crumbling power. Spirits wandered the walkways, she felt, whispering to her of the horrific battles and the Great Plague. She shivered and drew her cloak close around her.

            "This is one of our meeting places," Frodo said, coming up alongside her, "and I cannot recall that it was ever mentioned by name in any letter. We should be safe here, and will hopefully meet up with Sam."

            Rosie jumped in fear as a chilled wind raced around the great stone archway, shrieking aloud as though crying in pain. She bit back the fear within her.

            "Are you alright, Rosie?"

            It was then that her eyes alighted upon them, and she nearly cried with joy. There, in the corner of the ruins and the broken strength, someone had planted a small patch of golden elanor.

Chapter Twenty-Three:

Hope

            She knelt beside the flowers, watering them with her tears of joy as she smiled up at Frodo.

            "He has been here, Frodo," she wept. "There is hope yet."

            "Yes, milady," Frodo said gently, "but only a small thread. While I hate to abandon a place I know he will come to, I also feel we cannot just wait for him, if Lotho is out there as well."

            Rosie smiled. "Then the answer to your puzzle is simple, Frodo. You must leave and go seek him out, while I remain here and wait. It is the most logical answer to the puzzle, and will ensure a better chance of finding him."

            "But to leave you here! Amid the rubble and stones…"

            "I will be fine. I'll hide myself over here," she said, gesturing to a small alcove of rocks, wherein one could see but not be seen, "out of the wind and keep an eye out for my dearest and for you. Now, go! We will get nothing done if we stand around arguing about it."

            Frodo took a moment, deliberating over Rosie's plan. Finally, he agreed with her, saw her safely into the alcove, and headed back down to the quays to go searching for his leader.

Chapter Twenty-Four:

The Death-Trap

            The wind was sharp, but within the small rocky alcove it did not blow quite as hard, and Rosie wrapped in her cloak enjoyed a semblance of warmth. Certainly the silence and solitude provided her with a moment to think, and the hope of being so close to her beloved made her spirits rise. She imagined it out: hearing his step upon the rock, racing out to meet him, throwing herself into his arms… well, not at first. Her fantasies had to include a measure of truth, so she would not allow herself to imagine that he would accept her at first, but she would explain it all. She would win him back, and no matter what the future held in store would not be near as black, knowing he knew that she loved him. That was all that mattered now.

             A half-hour passed thus, to the end that Rosie was near asleep when she heard footfall – real footfall, not the merely imagined kind – upon the rock. She drew herself up in joy, awaiting the moment when her dreams would at last come true, until she listened more closely and discovered that it was not Sam's. Nor was it Frodo's. In surprise, she watched and listened, only to draw back in fear at the creatures whose steps echoed upon the stony ground.

            For across the bridge stood Lotho Sackville-Baggins, followed by a contingency of large, grimy Uruks, their cruel faces set.

            "Lugdush!" Lotho called, one of the Uruks stepping forward to meet his leader. "Have your men scour the area. I know he will be somewhere around here soon, and I want him alive and unspoiled. Do you understand me?"

            "Yes, milord," the Uruk replied, bowing slightly in deference. He relayed the orders to the creatures, who turned and headed deep into the surrounding woods. Rosie felt her heart rise into her throat. There were enough of the creatures, he could not possibly avoid detection if he came anywhere near the ruins. Lotho, too, watched the creatures leave. Just as they neared the edge of the woods, he called their attention back once more.

            "Remember: I am the voice of the White Hand! Any Uruk who spots this man, but allows him to go free, will have his head removed from his shoulders - if he is lucky." There is nothing Uruks understand better than threats of torture and death, and so they turned back to their tasks with a renewed sense of vigilance and terror.

            As they disappeared into the woods, he called out one final command: "Lugdush! Report back here with a small contingency in twenty minutes if you have found nothing."

            Lotho, meanwhile, turned his back on his army and looked about the great stone ruins. He too, perhaps, felt the presence of the spirits of the past, for he drew his cloak tightly around him and nervously paced around the settlement. Nonetheless, a sadistic glee was as much in his mind as despair was in Rosie's – the Elanor and the Ring were well within his grasp and the hour of victory for the White Hand, as well as for himself, was near.  

            As he looked over the settlement, his eyes alighted upon a small pile of kindling. Apparently deciding that a fire would drive away the restless spirits, he began to pile the wood up and search the small area for a tinderbox. It was then that Rosie heard the sound that froze her heart with terror, though the noise was not intended to do any such thing. It was simply the sound of a sweet, young voice singing, "The road goes ever on and on…"

Chapter Twenty-Five:

The Flower and the Pimple

            Rosie nearly jumped to her feet, determined to race to him and shout to him to flee, but managed to check her emotions in time. Lotho would be sure to catch her before she could do so, and Uruks might be close to the area. In any case, there was nothing she could do but wait and watch, hoping that he would leave before caught.

            Lotho, too, seemed to hear this mysterious singer and sat down upon the stone floor, determined to hide in the shadows until he could pounce upon his target. He bared his teeth as he awaited his prey, only to jump nearly a league straight up when a hand slapped his shoulder.

            "Lotho, dear boy! Bless me, but I never thought in a million years I'd find you here!"

            Lotho stared in disbelief as his mortal enemy came out from the very shadows he had been hiding in and gave him a large hug. "'Course, it's the friend that shows up unlooked for as is the greatest surprise, as the Gaffer always used to say. Oh, I see you were looking to start a fire! Not a bad idea when the weather turns cold like this. A better night for sitting inside with a pint, if you catch my meaning."

            Lotho could do nothing but stare, his mouth agape, as Sam lit a fire and settled down with a plop next to him. Certainly, he hadn't expected Sam to make it to the ruins: there were Uruks scouring the forest at that very moment. But, even if he had an inkling that the hobbit would show up, he could hardly have suspected that the boy would act as though they had met in an inn or at a party. Rosie, for her part, sat in quiet amusement, idolizing him even more. Yes, this was the Elanor she had devotedly heard of. And, at the same time, this was the Sam she had fallen in love with.

            "Would you care for a cup of soup, Lotho? This cold weather bites right to the bone and the Gaffer always used to tell me that I may not be brave enough to say 'Boo' to a goose, but I could certainly make a tasty bowl of soup."

            Perhaps fearing a trick, Lotho refused. Sam, shrugging his shoulders, simply put on the kettle and pulled some supplies from his bag. "Suit yourself then."

            Rosie began to feel the strain of the silence she was under. Sam certainly was stronger than that weakling Lotho, but if Sam were to run now, he was under a terrible risk of being caught by the Uruks in the woods. However, if he waited too long, Lugdush would return and Sam would be outnumbered. The situation was quite dire, and seemed (to Rosie at least) that Sam should worry more about escaping than snooping about the campsite for herbs to use in his soup.

            "I don't suppose you've seen any kingsfoil 'bout here, Lotho?"

            "What?" he asked, not having been listening to Sam, but rather to the woods in hopes of hearing the returning parties.

            "Kingsfoil. Er, it's a weed. Makes a rather tasty soup, though. Ah!" he exclaimed, evidently finding some in the corner. "Ever smelled it, Lotho?"

            "What? Smelled what?"

            "Kingsfoil! Always reminds me of the Brandwine in spring," Sam sighed melodramatically with a strong sense of nostalgia in his voice.

            Both Rosie and Lotho were nearly driven mad. Where were those confounded Uruks? Had it been twenty minutes yet? Where were they when the Elanor himself was sitting there, tossing flowers into his soup pot?!

            "'Course, Daisy would always tell me that they smelled nothing LIKE the Brandywine in spring. She'd always tell me they smelled like the summer wind if you stood at the mill and looked down into the river. But what do sisters know, right?"

            Lotho, unable to stand the suspense, stood to his feet and began pacing around the ruins. Sam smiled lopsidedly up at him.

            "Here, what do you think they smell like?"

            Lotho, in his days of youthful folly, once claimed that he had never been tricked at any point of his life (though Saruman might perhaps have another opinion of the matter), but he never even saw it coming. With his ears only open for the approaching Uruks, he carelessly grabbed the flower from Sam's hands, thinking it might shut the foolish creature up, held it to his nose, and took a mighty sniff.

            Only someone who has accidentally had pepper up his or her nose could truly understand the agony that Lotho suddenly found himself privy to. He discovered, only too late, that Sam was quite adept with sleight-of-hand (especially when it involved any of his cooking utensils or supplies) and that, while the athelas plant is not usually sprinkled with a very heavy dose of pepper, it can prove a very effective weapon when it is.                    

            As Lotho rolled on the ground, his violent sneezing causing his head quite nearly to explode, Sam carefully stepped around him, put out the fire with his foot, gathered up his cooking supplies, and neatly (and quite quietly) slipped into the darkness of the night.

Chapter Twenty-Six:

Gollum

            It took Rosie a few minutes to understand what had happened, enough time to reveal once again in her husband's ingenuity and to hear the troops approaching. Lotho, meanwhile, had recovered enough to stop his sneezing, though he felt blind and deaf and quite unable to stand.

            "Did you catch him? Did you get him?" Lotho screamed, seeing them approach. The Uruks, understandably, looked quite frightened.

            "No… we found no trace of him."

            "Maggots!" Lotho screeched, drawing his sword and racing across the width of the bridge. Picking the closest Uruk to himself, he racked his sword across the creature's throat and kicked him into the river below. Rosie drew back in terror, closing her eyes and willing herself not to scream.

"There!" he exclaimed, pointing to the carcass now floating away. "That is the price of your stupidity and tardiness!" The Uruks cowered backwards; though they more than doubled the hobbit in size, he was quite a formidable enemy when roused, and the authority of the White Hand went with him. Lotho paused, breathing heavily and watching the body float away, staining the water a loathsome black. "You have come five minutes too late, you fools," he said, his voice now deathly calm. "He has come and gone."
             Lugdush stepped forward. "He cannot get far, milord. We still have Uruks prowling about the countryside. They will find him soon."

Lotho drew back, slightly calmed and pacified for the moment. "Fetch me some water," he growled to a nearby Uruk. "Fresh!" he added, seeing the Uruk scamper down to the riverbanks. "I will drink no Uruks blood, though I will not hesitate to spill it if he gets away again."

As the slave returned with Lotho's water, three Uruks appeared from the shadows, one of them dragging something behind them. Although Rosie thought for a moment it might be some dead animal, she quickly saw the creature was moving, cowering away from the Uruk that held it.

"Milord," one of the Uruks said, stepping forward.

"Well?" Lotho asked, sneering down at the Uruks and their captive.

"We found this miserable creature wandering through the woods." The Uruk motioned back towards the slimy, dark creature with the pale, sinister eyes while the one that held his bonds gave him a sharp kick. The creature responded with a sharp outcry of, "Precioussssss!"

Lotho stared at the creature with disgust and fingered his sword. "Why bring it here? Why not just kill it if it insists on snooping around?"

At the mention of killing, the creature screeched and tried to run, its long, bony fingers clawing at the ropes that held its limbs. The Uruk gave it another mighty kick, which settled it down somewhat.

"We would've, milord, but the creature said it knew what we were looking for and where we'd find him."

Lotho's eyes opened wide, and he told the Uruk to bring the creature forward. Crawling on all fours, the creature slowly lolled forward, cowering before Lotho and muttering a "Gollum" deep in his throat.

"What are you called, creature? Where do you come from?"

"Gollum. Sméagol doesn't come from anywheres, good hobbit masster. Sméagol doesn't mean any harm. No, no. No harm. Nothing wrong. Sméagol only walks by night, the Bright Lights hurtssess our eyesss, yes preciousss, they doessessess…"

"Stop your blathering! My men say you know what we are looking for?"

Sméagol paused, looking from creature to creature, nervously fidgeting back and forth. Finally, his eyes alighted upon Lotho in a sinister light. "Yesss… you're on the trail of a hobbitsess. A hobbit master carrying… carrying the Preciousss."

Lotho's eyes lit up, and his licked his lips eagerly. "And you say you know where he's going?"

"Yes, yes, Sméagol knows! Sméagol knows; nobody notices when Sméagol listens. Hidesess in the treeses, Sméagol does. No one notices, no one cares. Gollum. But Sméagol hears. Sméagol knowses where he's going… and Sméagol could help. But not when nasty Orcssess kick Sméagol and hold knivesess to his throat. No, no. Gollum. Sméagol doesn't like that; no, no."

"Quiet, you! Now, what are his plans?"

Sméagol's eyes lit up once more, as he coyly smiled. "Why should Sméagol tell the hobbit master? Oh no, nasssty hobbitsess. Treat Sméagol meanly, oh no. Gollum. What would Sméagol get in return?"

Lotho had not seriously looked upon the creature before this moment; disgust of the sniveling, slimy creature kept him from even casting a glance at this pitiful being. But now, he stared the creature in the eye – and found an equal. Hobbit to Stoor; at the center of their existence, their heart beat for the same reason. One moment of equality with this being was quite enough. Turning away, his lips twisted as a cruel plan sprung to his mind.

"Sméagol," he said, his voice low. "We wish only for the capture of this hobbit and to right the wrongs that he has done to everyone. And, of course, what better place to start than to give 'the Precious' back to its rightful owner?"

"To… Sméagol?"

"Will you help us?"

The creature jumped into the air with glee, screeching with joy. "Yes, oh yes. Sméagol will help the nice hobbitsess! Nice hobbit master, so kind to Sméagol! So kind, yes so kind! Giving us back the Preciouss! Sméagol will be good, Sméagol will help!"

"What then did you hear, Sméagol? What are his plans?"

"The hobbitssess with the Precious met with two other hobbitses. They didn't see old Sméagol, oh no. Sméagol's so quiet. Nobody sees Sméagol. All three were dressed up like nasty Orcsess – Sméagol wouldn't know they were hobbitsess if he didn't see them get disguised like that. The one with the Preciouss told the others: they would take the Morgul Road to The Tower – nasty Tower! nasty, nasty!" Sméagol began to holler about the Tower, and had to be violently kicked to stop. "Yes, yes, so polite Orcsess… So polite. Yess… well, hobbitsess would take Morgul-Road and get their friendses out of the Tower, saying He wanted to see them. Then, they goeses into Mordor and hides with the other Orcsess, until He orders them all out. They leave easy enough, and the Preciouss leaves us all. Lost! Lost again!"

Lotho turned from the creature, pacing and devising his plan. "Such a straight-forward plot, and yet so easy. March into his land, demand his prisoners, and walk out alongside his men! Yes, it sounds like something that blasted maggot would attempt! Something he could laugh at me with, laugh at all of us! But tonight, they will not flee! They will perish instead!"

The Uruks cheered this on, but Lotho was not finished.

"Did they say where they would hide once in Mordor, Sméagol?"

"Yes, yes. Sméagol was listening, and they never saw Sméagol, not even once. Stupid hobbitsess. Stupid. But Sméagol heard. And Sméagol knows. Sméagol was in dark land once. Wouldn't go back, but for the Preciousss… yess… we would go backsess for the Preciouss…"

"Can you lead us there? Would you be able to find them, disguised as Orcs, again?"

"Yes, oh yes. Sméagol knows. Sméagol watched… And when we catch them, Sméagol gets the Preciouss?"

Lotho's eyes turned cruelly upon the creature once again, who cowered to the ground.

"Listen well, Sméagol, for I will propose our bargain. You will lead us down this Morgul-Road they will follow. If they have already stolen the prisoners, you will take us to the Orc camps and find them for us. If you do, we will give you your Precious," Gollum danced in glee at this, but Lotho continued. "But, if they elude our capture and you do not find them, I will command these Uruks to give you such a sound thrashing, your breath will perhaps leave your body forever." Sméagol's delight fell short. "Do you accept?"

"Gollum."

Chapter Twenty-Seven:

On the Morgul-Road

            Rosie's plan was simple. Never once did she consider that she had any other choice. She watched and waited as the Uruks formed into protective ranks around Lotho. She watched as he ordered the creature Sméagol to kept heavily guarded, but out of his sight, and she watched as they finally marched out into the darkness. Wrapping her cloak tightly around her, she waded into the shadows after them.

            They kept a steady pace and thus it was not long before they arrived at the Crossroads. Rosie watched as the Uruks casually threw rocks at the statue of the king, mocking the desecrated spot but carrying on under Lotho's harsh orders. From there they headed straight east. The path was patrolled by Orcs (though none would challenge the Uruks) and Rosie found it more difficult now to keep hidden. Whereas Ithilien had provided her with foliage on either side of the road, she now was forced to clamber into the banks of the river Morguiduin, crawling along the rocky terrain and ignoring as best she could the cold that was seeping into her bones from the icy water.

            The pace was tiring and Rosie, exhausted from the emotional drain she had suffered, fought to keep up. Hours upon hours passed; her mind grew blurry as her hands and knees grew bloody. And yet on she wandered, keeping the noise of their march ever in front of her, willing Sam, wherever he was, to be careful.

            When she felt she could stumble on no further, she collapsed into the riverbed, allowing the water to seep into her clothes as she lay in a heap on the ground. However, her ears pricked up, for the sound of the march stopped. She peeped her head over the downtrodden earth, her energy renewed through her curiosity.

            Before her stood the Tower of Cirith Ungol; it's three great tiers scraping the heights of the heavens and the malice emanating from the outer walls making Rosie cower in terror. She watched as the great host gathered on the narrow cleft before the walls, and Uruks entered the Tower. Moments later, they returned, shaking their head in anger. Lotho cursed aloud and shook his fist at the Tower. Obviously, they had arrived too late.

            "Very well," he muttered. "We must therefore depend on you, Sméagol, to find these cursed spies and set things to right."

            "Yes… Sméagol will help… Sméagol will find the Preciouss… Follow Sméagol!"

            And, like a shot, he was down the road once again, headed straight into the very heart of Mordor. Rosie, despite her fatigue and pain, followed after.

Chapter Twenty-Eight:

The Orc Huts

            Heading straight east, they didn't have far to go before they found what Sméagol had spoken of. Small towns of Orcs had sprouted up, some in tents and others in more clustered and organized groups. Having come in the dead of night, the company passed through easily; no Orc challenged their right to be there, for all seemed to be hidden within their tents, sleeping away the night.

            Rosie shuddered as she crawled through the towns. Sméagol passed them all by, one by one, until he approached a smaller hut on the very edge of a large grouping. As soon as he had pointed it out, Lotho's lips twisted into a cruel smile. It was, after all, a perfect location for the Elanor: close enough to not be suspicious, but far enough that no one would pay much attention. And, the next morning, when the Orcs were called out of Mordor to wreak their destruction on Middle-Earth, he would leave the land as easy as you please. "Or so you think," he muttered under his breath.

            Rosie had, by this time, given up all hope of saving her husband. As she watched the Uruks surround the small hut, she knew her last hope existed only in dying beside him. In allowing him to know that she had repented, and that she did love him. It was all that drove her on now, the only thing that kept her going.

            Lotho ordered the hut surrounded – quietly, so as not to arouse alarm – but surrounded heavily and carefully, that none could escape. Watching the Uruks carry out this order, Rosie's arms gave way beneath her and she collapsed to the ground. As she lay, exhausted, thirsty, and bleeding, she heard heavy footsteps clamber up behind her. Too worn out to care, she allowed the Uruks to grab her up, carry her somewhere, and finally drop her onto the ground elsewhere.

            "Well, well, well. Miss Cotton, I presume?"

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

Trapped

            A few moments of unconsciousness were mercifully granted her, as she dazedly lay in a heap at Lotho's feet. When she awoke again, she merely listened with closed eyes to his conversation with Lugdush.

            "The Uruks?"

            "Set and ready, awaiting your command."

            "The creature?"

            "Bound and gagged, milord, as you requested."

            "And the lady?"

            "Unbound as you ordered, over by that rock."

            "Very good."

            She became faintly aware of footsteps, and opened her eyes to see Lotho standing over her, grinning evilly.

            "My dear Rosie. I'm so sorry we could not better accommodate you, but I fear your present circumstances will have to hold. My men told me I should gag you, but I told them you would be silent, for me." Rosie attempted to spit on him, but found her mouth completely parched; besides, she did not even have the energy to raise her head. "You might wonder, why? Well, let me tell you. Your frustrating husband has eluded our capture several times, and from circumstances more dire than this. Surely, if you were to scream, he would somehow find a way to escape. However, I promise you that your brother would not be so quick.

            "Here, then, is my proposition. If you are a good little hobbit lass and hold your tongue, I will see to it that your brother walks out of this beastly hole – alive. However, if you make a noise to warn Sam, I will personally see to it that Nibs is run through with my own blade."

            Rosie dropped her head to the ground, tears springing to her eyes. Lotho simply laughed and patted her head before walking away.

            "There, there. That's a good little Rose."

            But a noise then arose that neither one expected. A noise which stopped Lotho in his tracks, and made Rosie suffer herself to lift her head in wonderment.

            From somewhere around them, Samwise was singing.

Chapter Thirty:

The Mountain

            "Though here at journey's end I lie…"

            He may as well have been singing in Elvish for all the words meant to Rosie or for the dastardly company. Lotho drew his sword, the Uruks looked around them in wonderment, and Rosie finally drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Forgive me, Nibs," she thought, tears running down her face. Let her be her brother's murderer, she could not remain silent.

            "Sam!" she screamed, her voice hoarse and twisted. "Sam, run!" She was vaguely conscious that she was picked up and flung to the ground again roughly, but she would not stop. "Sam, my dearest husband, flee! You are betrayed and surrounded! Run now!"

            "Will someone shut that creature up!" Lotho screeched; an Uruk complied by giving her a swift kick that drew the very breath of life from her lips. Doubled over as the faint light of the evening faded and swam in her vision, she was only barely aware of Lotho's scream, "Charge!" and the vicious, horrific shout of the Uruks as they raced towards the hut.

            "Into it, my men! And let no one escape from that hut alive!"

            She pulled herself up, determined to watch the gory battle out to the end, but watched in amazement as the Uruks walked back out of the hut, their war cry over, just seconds after entering it. Lotho charged up, his rapier drawn, a diminutive figure with fire in his eyes.

            "Why do you not attack?!" he screamed. The Uruks looked among themselves.

            "Milord, there is no one in the hut."

            "What? You let them escape?" He held his sword aloft, ready to spill more blood when another Uruk screeched from a nearby hut.

            "They are all empty, milord! The Orcs have already left!"

            Lotho's eyes grew sickly pale as he looked around him. Indeed, the valley had been too dark and quiet for any place inhabited by Orcs – the Dark Lord had already called them out. Turning to the North, Lotho's eyes could vaguely perceive a dark form on the horizon: his enemy slipping from his fingers.

            "Well, don't just stand there!" he screamed. "After them! Kill them all!"

            The Uruks, filled with vigor at the idea of killing Orcs and finding their foe among their numbers, let out another terrifying war cry and raced towards the Black Gates. Lotho, however, called Lugdush and Sharku back. His eyes were filled with white hatred, and he stepped towards the creature Sméagol, towering above him. Sméagol cowered as best he could beneath his bindings as Lotho removed his gag.

            "Tell me, Sméagol, do you recall the conditions of our bargain?"

            Sméagol hesitated, looking from creature to creature to creature, his eyes filled with terror.

            "But… but Sméagol helped! Sméagol brought you here, Sméagol brought you to where the hobbitsess were…"

            "But did we find them? Did we Sméagol?" The creature cried aloud, and Lotho stepped back in disgust. Turning to Lugdush and Sharku, he drew forth his sword. "Give the creature the thrashing of his life. Do not kill him; I will need him as proof to the White Hand of our activities here tonight, but make good my end of the bargain." His orders clear, he turned to follow his Uruks towards the Black Gates.

            "But, what shall we do with him afterwards? And what of the hobbit wench?"

            Lotho turned momentarily, thinking it over. "Leave them here. They won't go anywhere, and we can return to fetch them in the morning. When you finish, go and guard the Morgul-Road. Make certain no one leaves by that pass, Orcs included. Kill them if you have to." His orders given, Lotho turned and fled towards the Black Gates.

            Rosie attempted to shut out the pitiful cries of the creature just feet away as the Uruks happily utilized their whips for the first time that evening. She attempted to drown out everything: there was still a chance that Sam and Nibs would elude Lotho. And she would have the small joy in knowing that she had died for him, warning him in the end of the eminent danger. She closed her eyes, and listened only slightly as the whipping ended and the soldiers ran off to guard the road miles away. She closed her eyes against the pain and the cold and the rock, and merely tried to forget.

Chapter Thirty-One:

The Escape

            With her head pressed against the ground, and fatigue threatening to overwhelm her, Rosie listened to the vibrations in the ground as the last two Uruks raced away from her, leaving her quite alone in this desolate land, leaving her to die.

            But not all was silent. As she lay, hoping for her end to come soon and take away the pain, she heard a noise that made her feel quite certain that madness had finally gripped her. From somewhere in the confines of that horrific land, a noise echoed across the cliffs and gullies that made the very rocks wonder in amazement.

            It was the sound of a good, solid, absolutely hobbit, "Ninnyhammers!"

            She pulled herself up by the elbows, straining her ears to try to determine whether her mind had abandoned her or she now was saved. All was still again for a moment, but only a moment.

            "Bless me if I ain't as tired as the water wheel of the mill." A tear sprang to her eyes as she looked around her. The voice was unmistakable, but where was it coming from? 

            "It's as the Gaffer always said, 'a hard day's work deserves a long night's sleep'; and I feel I could use one right now. Don't know rightly if he ever said nothing about getting beaten to a pulp, though."

            It was by sheer chance that her eyes managed to alight on him while he was speaking; otherwise she never would've believed it. From beneath the grime, the filth, and the false skin, Rosie watched as the creature Sméagol gave her an all-too-familiar lopsided grin.

            "Well, Rosie lass. We've had quite a day, haven't we?"

            "Sam!" she cried, racing to his side. "Are you hurt?"

            "Not terribly," he said, though the sharp intake of breath spoke otherwise. "However, I'd be greatly in your debt if you would untie me, m'dear."

            "Oh, of course!" She tore at the ropes as fast as her chapped fingers would allow, finally loosening the knots and allowing her husband to stretch out his limbs once again. He did so with a great sigh of relief, then began pulling at the false covering for his skull, revealing the uncontrollable mass of curls hidden underneath. He also attempted to wipe the layers of filth and grime from his face, but only managed to smear it around. Rosie simply watched it all in amazement.

            "Sam, I… I don't understand!"

            "Bless me, I guess you do deserve something of an explanation. Though, I daresay, you've figured out quite a bit on your own. I guess I should've known my clever little wife would find me out someday," his smile beamed up at her, and he gently ran his fingers across her cheek. "Well, where shall I begin?"

            "Why are you dressed like this? What happened here? Where is Nibs?"

"Ah, very well. I shall start at the beginning. Your brother is quite safe, my sweet. You don't need to fear for him."

"But Lotho! The Uruks!"

"He's nowhere near 'em. Sméagol was telling the truth – but in a rather abridged form. Merry and Pippin were disguised as Orcs – perfect little Orcs, I might say, if we could've made them bow-legged – and walked into Mordor pert as you please, asking for Nibs and some of the other prisoners holed up in that nasty place. However, they walked back out by the same road and were well on their way to Minas Tirith when Lotho and I were enjoying a nice pot of soup together."

He chuckled at the memory, and Rosie smiled too, until her mind became confused again.

"But, if Nibs and the others were out of danger, why did you put yourself in such danger to come along with Lotho? What if he had seen through your disguise?"

"Then my game would quite certainly be up, little Rosie! But while I had completed the job you had given me, I had quite another one to accomplish. And, once that job got started, I found myself with another, infinitely more important. I had to get myself into Mordor and do so without bringing too much attention to myself – Rosie lass, my dear!" he exclaimed, noticing that she had burst into tears. With a great amount of pain, he struggled to sit up and took her face in his hands.

"What is it, my darling?"

"Oh Sam," she whispered between sobs. "This was all my fault. This whole mess. I'm so sorry, my love. I'm so sorry."

Sam smiled gently, then took her hands in his, kissing them gently. "My sweet Rosie lass, there's nothing you need to be sorry about. I'm the one who didn't listen, I'm the one who should've believed you, and I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. If I had bothered to realize what a noble heart was yours, I would've trusted you as you deserved to be trusted, rather than forcing you to this horrid place to chase after your silly husband."

They fell into each other's arms, holding the other close and refusing to let go. It was moments later, however, that Rosie and Sam both tensed, having heard the noise of footsteps coming closer. Rosie clung to Sam; was this to be the end after all? Nonetheless, as the inky figure drew closer, Sam merely laughed.

"Sam?" she asked, her voice naught but a whisper. "What is it?"

Sam just laughed again, and kissed her cheek. "Just a mere trifle that you forgot, my dear."

"What?"

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "A trifle named Frodo Baggins."

"Hullo? Sam?" came the voice of their dear friend, as he wandered through the Orc huts.

"Over here, Frodo!" Sam called out, drawing their friend closer. Frodo raced to their side, but stopped short a few steps from Sam, staring at his leader in amazement.

"Sam! You look… er…"

"Yes, I look – er, um – very good way of putting it," he laughed, climbing to his feet and clapping Frodo on the shoulder. "As usual, you are perfectly on time, my dear master. Though, I must say, I have quite a score to settle with you! May I ask what you are doing here in Mordor, when you were commanded to remain at Bag End? Insubordination? Just wait 'til we get back to the Shire; I'll call on Gandalf to turn you into something unnatural!"

Frodo laughed. "I'll bear whatever he can dish out, so good it is to see you alive and well, my friend! Though I trust you will keep in mind that this quest is only being brought to an end by my help!" Frodo placed his hand into his pocket and drew out something on a long chain, offering it to Sam. However, Sam put it back into Frodo's hands. "Hold onto it a little while longer; I have more… precious cargo to carry."

With this, Sam turned back to Rosie. "You see, my dear, we also had need to get the Ring into Mordor so that we could destroy it. I had planned to dress like Sméagol, lead them to this hut, and then sneak off to the mountaintop myself with the Ring while they were busy capturing an empty hut. However, after I gave that Pimply-face creature a lesson on botany, I met up with my dear master Frodo, who informed me that you were here about somewhere. I couldn't take the chance that I would have to leave you alone with them – I wouldn't trust a single one of them as far as I could throw 'em – so we had to improvise. Frodo was therefore given command of the Ring and told to wait two hours, in which time he would head down the Morgul-Road and meet us here."

Sam turned back to Frodo. "You had no trouble passing through, I trust?"

"No. Not an Orc in sight thanks to the Uruks, and they were too busy watching for Orcs trying to get out, that they paid no attention to a small shadow trying to get in."

"Excellent. So, my dear, you have heard my entire cunning plan. Will you pay us two rogues the great honor of your presence as we rid the world of a great evil?"

After shaking her head in amazement at the story, she turned her eyes at last to the mighty mountain they sat beside, already trembling and foaming. "Sam," she said slowly. "I'm not sure I can walk that far."

Sam smiled sweetly, and bent over her. "Of course not, my love. I intend to carry you."

The climb to the top of the mountain was long and harsh; although they found the path soon enough, the mountain was trembling at the nearness of its creation, and the long night's work took its toll on all three. Yet Rosie whispered sweet nothings into her husband's ears that made his burden light and his feet like wings, so long had he wished to hear them.

When they finally reached Sammath Naur, the dawn had just begun to creep over the edge of the earth, hindered only by the dark clouds which had clouded the moon. Frodo once again offered the Ring to Sam, who insisted that Frodo be the one to destroy it, as it had been given to him after all. As the hobbit descended into the bowels of the mountain, Sam and Rosie looked out over the pillaged land.

Away to the north, they saw the great battle that had eventually started as the army of Uruks had reached the footsore army of Orcs just within the Black Gates. A moment later, the earth shook beneath them and a great howl arose throughout the land. The Ring was destroyed. Sauron, the enemy of the Free Peoples of the Middle-Earth, was defeated. Rosie watched with amazement as the Tower of Barad-dûr crumbled to the ground, and the Wraiths fell from the sky. She watched as the creatures fighting to the north trembled in fear, and fled out the Gates. She watched then, as they poured from the land of Mordor, directly into the hands of the massive armies of Rohan and Gondor, at the command of Aragorn, son of Arathorn and Gandalf the White. But all this meant little to her, in comparison to the warmth of her beloved standing beside her in the cold morning air.

As Gwaihir the Windlord and two of his brothers swooped to their rescue, Rosie was conscious only of one thing. The New Age of Middle-Earth that had begun that morning meant little to her; she smiled instead in anticipation of the new life that lay before her and her beloved.

Epilogue:

            Not more than two months later saw the glorious nuptials of Mr. Peregrin Took and Miss Diamond of Long Cleeve. Being as it was the first such celebration after the Uruks had fled Bywater, the event was doubly blessed and all who attended were glad of heart.

            No one knew entirely why the Uruks left. Some claimed their wizard leader had found what he was looking for and had no further need for the Shire. Others said the wizard had been deposed by the other wizards of his order, and his Uruks fled, leaderless. Still others maintained that he had been killed: pushed from his tower by a hate-filled lackey and skewered onto a spiked wheel. But, of course, all such stories were just hearsay.

            In any case, perhaps the greatest mystery surrounded the newly rejuvenated marriage of Sam and Rosie Gamgee. Rumors spread more abundantly than ever as to why they had both disappeared one morning hating each other, and returned a few months later, more in love than ever. The most popular tale was that Samwise had somehow grown up in his travels, for he had returned a more serious and intelligent hobbit, though he still would occasionally make reference to the wise words of his Gaffer.

            But, whatever explanation was true, the people of the Shire enjoyed a more rich and abundant life, now fully reveling in their freedom and love. A new life had been given to them all, and they intended to live it.

            Though, indeed, it must be mentioned that most of the Shire, to this day, wonders just who the Golden Elanor was.

The End