Slowly, the world was coming back to light. First, he could only see the
dim outline of a huge mountain, the sky sheilding it's torents high above.
Then, another figure came into view. It was crouching over him, repeating
his name.
It took Frodo a few moments to realize where he was; in Mordor, and the great mound before him was Mount Doom. The figure was Sam, Sam, who had finally cut through the terrible whispers sourounding him.
'Mr Frodo?'
'What happened?' he so badly needed a drink; he realized, upon speaking. 'Water..'
Sam disapeared then, leaving him to gaze up into the sky. Clouds were swirling, like always, covering darkness with darkness. It struck Frodo that- there was no point in day or night in this place.
His friend returned in a moment's time with water, in a small, rounded flask. The moment it struck Frodo's lips he raised himelf slightly- and then lay back down, staring up ahead, breathing deeply.
'Frodo?'
'Sam, I, I.. couldn't sleep. I wanted to walk, so I got up and then.. then, there were these whispers, all around me. they were whispering things I could not understand.. and the ring, it, it.. called to me. I thought it was over, then you drove the voices away.. and..' he closed his eyes tightly.
'I saw you standing, then you fell, and then, sort of went into a trance. I ran toward you, called your name.. but, I was afraid you couldn't hear me! Then I reached you, and you sort of stirred. You had the ring out, so I grabbed it and returned it to your pocket, picked you up. There was a moment when you seemed angry with me for taking it, then, you screamed, and.. and.. you fell unconcious.'
Frodo looked up at him. 'It all seems to hazy.'
'You should rest Mr Frodo. try and sleep, I'll keep watch. Are you hungry?'
'It's been a long time since I've been hungry Sam,' the older Hobbit replied, turning on his side.
It was a while before Frodo awoke; mid-day. They gathered their strength and started moving again, going slowly and purposefully. The now sloping land was getting harder and harder to accomplish- both were worrying about their position. Within a few hours they stopped for a serious break, though it seemed to Frodo they hadn't moved- everything looked exactly the same.
'Do you remember Arwen, Sam?'
The question came as a surprise- and Sam lifted his head with wide eyes, mouth open just a little. Frodo had hardly spoken at all for the last few days- and now his friend was enquiring about a subject with no immediate need for answering.
'I do, sir,' he replied. 'Arwen and the Lady Galadriel..'
'But Arwen. Do you remember the way she took me to Rivendell?'
'Aye. We were all very worried. All throughout our journey there.' Sam lowered his eyes in thought. 'Mr Pippin kept asking the most undeeded questions- got us worried even more.'
'It seems ironic,' Frodo was now looking up at Mount Doom, a clear, nameless fear on his face. It was a strange thing- he neither **feared** his fear, nor repulsed it. It was as if he simply accepted it. 'That she risked her life in vain. And all the others that did as well.'
'What do you mean, Mr Frodo?'
'I cannot do this.' The older Hobbit refused to look directly at Sam. 'I cannot. My body refuses to take another step, my mind won't let me. I was not meant for this, do you understand?'
There was silence in reply, but Sam had shuffled forward, clearly nervous. 'I understand. I would take the ring if I could. But it was not meant for my hands..'
'No! The ring will not befall anyone else's touch.'
Frodo turned away then, and said no more, but after about 40 minutes firmly proclaimed they should move again. Sam breathed a sigh of relief- but still gave his friend concerned lookes now and then. He had not liked his master's tone.
All sense of time left the two travellers. It may have been weeks, it may have been mere days, but at last, Frodo found himself in the very heart of Mount Doom, and Sam behind, intent on keeping Gollum away.
Terror had seized them both long, long ago. Frodo felt the pressurized feeling grow heavier and heavier, and now he could not breathe, could not move, could not do what he had come to do. He saw Mount Doom, he felt it's heaving, but his senses would not reacte.
**I have come this far.**
His fingers would not move, would not take the ring out. The sounds all around him mixed.. he had but minutes.. or hours..
**I have failed them all.. Aragorn, Elrond, Gandalf..**
('Frodo...') The voice was not Sam's, but it brought the name's owner around. He flinched, gazed up, shrunk into himself. The whispers from so many nights before returned.. but only in his mind, for a deeper terror now lived. The voice continued talking, and all sense of place and creation finally left Frodo.
('Frodo. The ring was never yours, never yours to touch or destroy. I would kill you, destroy you as you sought to destroy it, but I have ideas much bigger then you think. Come, I will make you my follower, my friend. Together, we will rule Middle-Earth.')
His eyes closed, his limbs failed, and he fell to the floor of Mount Doom. No pain- no feeling, just the voice.
('Give me the ring. Let me use it to make you wise, powerful. I know how to, Frodo.')
He raised his hand with much wearyness, sought the ring..
('That's it. Do not think of anything you have thought you knew. The other halflings do not matter. Every single creature you have met on your journey has been wrong.. for you are here, look, just within my reach. You came to me out of your free will.')
His fingers clasped about the Ring..
'Frodo!' the voice seemed from far off. Sam, he realized.
('Do not think of him. He is nothing. I will destroy him.')
'Yes,' he said. The ring now was within his palm, and he out-stretched his hand forward, eyes still closed..
Whispers.. screams.. then nothing.
__
A/N Mwahaha.. Ok, well, it goes kinda sharply to Mount Doom, I know, but I couldn't help it. Just a side note- this will be heavy. I mean, no happy ending people. If you can't bear to see character torture, don't read on.
But on a brighter note: if you've gotten this far, review!
silver-tear-crystals
It took Frodo a few moments to realize where he was; in Mordor, and the great mound before him was Mount Doom. The figure was Sam, Sam, who had finally cut through the terrible whispers sourounding him.
'Mr Frodo?'
'What happened?' he so badly needed a drink; he realized, upon speaking. 'Water..'
Sam disapeared then, leaving him to gaze up into the sky. Clouds were swirling, like always, covering darkness with darkness. It struck Frodo that- there was no point in day or night in this place.
His friend returned in a moment's time with water, in a small, rounded flask. The moment it struck Frodo's lips he raised himelf slightly- and then lay back down, staring up ahead, breathing deeply.
'Frodo?'
'Sam, I, I.. couldn't sleep. I wanted to walk, so I got up and then.. then, there were these whispers, all around me. they were whispering things I could not understand.. and the ring, it, it.. called to me. I thought it was over, then you drove the voices away.. and..' he closed his eyes tightly.
'I saw you standing, then you fell, and then, sort of went into a trance. I ran toward you, called your name.. but, I was afraid you couldn't hear me! Then I reached you, and you sort of stirred. You had the ring out, so I grabbed it and returned it to your pocket, picked you up. There was a moment when you seemed angry with me for taking it, then, you screamed, and.. and.. you fell unconcious.'
Frodo looked up at him. 'It all seems to hazy.'
'You should rest Mr Frodo. try and sleep, I'll keep watch. Are you hungry?'
'It's been a long time since I've been hungry Sam,' the older Hobbit replied, turning on his side.
It was a while before Frodo awoke; mid-day. They gathered their strength and started moving again, going slowly and purposefully. The now sloping land was getting harder and harder to accomplish- both were worrying about their position. Within a few hours they stopped for a serious break, though it seemed to Frodo they hadn't moved- everything looked exactly the same.
'Do you remember Arwen, Sam?'
The question came as a surprise- and Sam lifted his head with wide eyes, mouth open just a little. Frodo had hardly spoken at all for the last few days- and now his friend was enquiring about a subject with no immediate need for answering.
'I do, sir,' he replied. 'Arwen and the Lady Galadriel..'
'But Arwen. Do you remember the way she took me to Rivendell?'
'Aye. We were all very worried. All throughout our journey there.' Sam lowered his eyes in thought. 'Mr Pippin kept asking the most undeeded questions- got us worried even more.'
'It seems ironic,' Frodo was now looking up at Mount Doom, a clear, nameless fear on his face. It was a strange thing- he neither **feared** his fear, nor repulsed it. It was as if he simply accepted it. 'That she risked her life in vain. And all the others that did as well.'
'What do you mean, Mr Frodo?'
'I cannot do this.' The older Hobbit refused to look directly at Sam. 'I cannot. My body refuses to take another step, my mind won't let me. I was not meant for this, do you understand?'
There was silence in reply, but Sam had shuffled forward, clearly nervous. 'I understand. I would take the ring if I could. But it was not meant for my hands..'
'No! The ring will not befall anyone else's touch.'
Frodo turned away then, and said no more, but after about 40 minutes firmly proclaimed they should move again. Sam breathed a sigh of relief- but still gave his friend concerned lookes now and then. He had not liked his master's tone.
All sense of time left the two travellers. It may have been weeks, it may have been mere days, but at last, Frodo found himself in the very heart of Mount Doom, and Sam behind, intent on keeping Gollum away.
Terror had seized them both long, long ago. Frodo felt the pressurized feeling grow heavier and heavier, and now he could not breathe, could not move, could not do what he had come to do. He saw Mount Doom, he felt it's heaving, but his senses would not reacte.
**I have come this far.**
His fingers would not move, would not take the ring out. The sounds all around him mixed.. he had but minutes.. or hours..
**I have failed them all.. Aragorn, Elrond, Gandalf..**
('Frodo...') The voice was not Sam's, but it brought the name's owner around. He flinched, gazed up, shrunk into himself. The whispers from so many nights before returned.. but only in his mind, for a deeper terror now lived. The voice continued talking, and all sense of place and creation finally left Frodo.
('Frodo. The ring was never yours, never yours to touch or destroy. I would kill you, destroy you as you sought to destroy it, but I have ideas much bigger then you think. Come, I will make you my follower, my friend. Together, we will rule Middle-Earth.')
His eyes closed, his limbs failed, and he fell to the floor of Mount Doom. No pain- no feeling, just the voice.
('Give me the ring. Let me use it to make you wise, powerful. I know how to, Frodo.')
He raised his hand with much wearyness, sought the ring..
('That's it. Do not think of anything you have thought you knew. The other halflings do not matter. Every single creature you have met on your journey has been wrong.. for you are here, look, just within my reach. You came to me out of your free will.')
His fingers clasped about the Ring..
'Frodo!' the voice seemed from far off. Sam, he realized.
('Do not think of him. He is nothing. I will destroy him.')
'Yes,' he said. The ring now was within his palm, and he out-stretched his hand forward, eyes still closed..
Whispers.. screams.. then nothing.
__
A/N Mwahaha.. Ok, well, it goes kinda sharply to Mount Doom, I know, but I couldn't help it. Just a side note- this will be heavy. I mean, no happy ending people. If you can't bear to see character torture, don't read on.
But on a brighter note: if you've gotten this far, review!
silver-tear-crystals