"Hostile Takeover"-Chapter 17: The Choices of Sally Gamble
They found themselves in the darkness, scrambling towards each other in desperate need of comfort and solace. Frodo nearly collapsed into Sally's lap, spilling a torrent of bitter tears into her elven cloak. He didn't know what he really wanted. He partly wished for her anger. He could not handle her fear. He knew she would want his reassurance, something he sorely, miserably lacked.
He had failed her. He was at a loss for what would happen next. "I.I couldn't stop it," he sobbed. A sad excuse for a hobbit who would be a god, but time and time again that simple statement summed up the totality of his life.
Sally held him, mired in her own feelings of guilt and inadequacy. She looked away from him even as her arms encircled him. She should not have let this happen. Her purpose, no matter what life she lived was to serve Frodo, to stand at his side and to help him. In every aspect this day, she had failed him. Gandalf was right to have tried to keep her behind. He had seen the larger picture she had blinded herself to. He knew the danger that she posed to the Ringbearer. Only now did she understand. She felt the shame wash over her in the tears spilled. "I wasn't worth this," she whispered to the air. She had been selfish.
Frodo looked up at her. He could not believe her words. In a way they horrified him, not in her willingness to sacrifice herself but in the effect her declaration had on him. They cemented his actions. He knew then that he would not have done anything differently. He chose to use the Ring. It didn't force his hand. No matter the fault in his logic, he would save her over the rest of the world. He took her hand and clutched it tightly. "Don't ever say that, Sally," he said pleadingly. "You're the only reason I'm here. You're the only reason I've held on for so long."
She found no comfort in his affirmation. She had followed him out of blind devotion but his devotion to her may have cost him the strength he needed to destroy the Ring. Wasn't that what this was all about? Had they forgotten? Had he? "What do we do now?" she asked, looking to him sadly. "Do you think you can go on?"
There it was, her quest for reassurance. Frodo had hoped she would delay it somehow. He didn't want to be the leader again.anymore. He was too tired. He simply wanted to cry. If his tears lasted an eternity, it would be a better existence than getting back to his feet and facing Mt. Doom.
But his tears would not serve Sally. She would follow him to the end but he would still have to lead. "I don't know," he said wearily. He tried to summon what remained of his wits and his strength but something held them back, something dark and heavy suffocating him, crushing him. "I can still feel it," he told her. "I can still hear it in my head, saying words I can't understand."
That was untrue. He knew exactly what the Ring was saying to him. He used the last ounce of his will refusing to listen.
"We found a way before, didn't we?" She didn't mean for her words to be a question. She didn't mean for her voice to sound so small and timid. She knew he needed her strength and she wanted to give it to him. She just needed to find it within herself. "We have to have hope."
She would not fail him again.
* * *
The path twisted up the angry, jagged face of Mt. Doom. Frodo stumbled blindly, holding to the rockface for support, groping the air around him for phantoms only he could see. Sally followed him, guiding him when he seemed to lose his way. He hardly seemed to notice her presence. Only when she offered to bear him upon her back again did he rouse himself to wave her off. This was his battle, his own demon he had to defeat. He did not want to share.
For the time, though his efforts seemed pitiful, he could hold it back. Any moment he would collapse, let the ground swallow him up and move no more. No enemy chased them now. They did not need to hide from orc, or Nazgul or the once ever-present Eye. Their bodies were well-nourished, well-clothed and they carried clean, clear water with them. Their weakness and despair of failure came form the torment of the Ring alone. It only had to stop them once. Once and for all.
So blinded by her careful watch over her master, Sally missed the ironic familiarity of their path. Although the world had aged, flourishing and dying through the passage of years, Mount Doom had remained unchanged. Not a rock had moved. Even the dust was undisturbed. Had her eyes strayed from Frodo and glanced down to her trail, she would have seen the ghostly impressions made by footprints she had cast centuries ago. But all of this was lost on her.
Only when they faced the door of Sammath Naur and the hot breath of the fires within blew across her face did the realization stir within Sally's mind. She remembered this. She knew this.
Frodo preceded her with renewed determination in his step. Sally followed quickly, fearful that she would lose him in the darkness.
Just as she began to fumble for her flashlight, the fires of the Crack of Doom illuminated her vision. Frodo stood at the edge of the great chasm. He had taken out the Ring and held it in his open hand.
It seemed so simple now. Just toss the Ring into the fire and it would be done. All he needed to do was turn his hand and let it fall, let it burn, let it be gone. Once it might have been that simple. Not now. Now there was confusion, hesitation, pain. The air was stagnant with it. Sally could taste it. Her master had begun to falter again. "Frodo..?" she called.
For a long moment, he stood motionless before the burning light. Sally felt a sinking fear that he would never speak or move again, but as she began to reach for him he finally answered her. "I'm lost, Sally," he said as if from far away. "I can't hear you anymore." He shook his head and slowly he stepped away from the chasm. "I can't do this." He said his words plaintively, a last plea for help as his will gave way to the seduction of the Ring. Its power overcame him and his expression became cold and resolute. "I won't do this."
A feral, unanticipated anger erupted from Sally. No. No. NO. Damned, damned, damned Ring. She struck Frodo with all the wrath and frustration she had hidden within her.
The action surprised them both and sent Frodo to the ground. The Ring rolled free from his hand.
Still on her feet, Sally reached for it. She had no conscious thought in her mind of what she was doing only the instinctive need to keep it away from her master.
Frodo scrambled for her. His face had twisted into a contorted mask of horror and fury. "NO!!! Get away from it!" he screamed at her. "Don't touch it! IT'S MINE!!"
But he was too late. Sally had picked up the Ring and stepped out of Frodo's desperate grasp.
His lust for the Ring had clouded his sight. Instead of his devoted friend and companion, he saw only a monstrous thief. He would have to punish her for playing with his things. He nearly snarled as he sprang to his feet to confront her.
He took one menacing step towards her and faltered. Out of a sense of survival, he stopped advancing on her. The instinct was not as old as his need for the Ring but it was no less irresistible. In the world of man, one learns at an early age to stand still while staring down the barrel of a gun.
Sally trembled at her terrifying predicament. Would she fire her gun? Even she didn't know. Each move she made came from desperation and fear. Each step was blind to the future plans of the next. "No," she asserted in a voice thick with emotion, "I can't let you have it. You're not yourself."
Frodo shook with helpless rage. He wanted his Ring back but his fear of the gun held him in check. He felt its absence keenly like a gaping hole in his chest, cold and empty. He had to get it back. It had not left his possession for centuries. He almost could not remember the last time but he knew there was once another Ringbearer. Sam had carried it for him when he could not protect it.
Sam. Frodo's vision began to clear. The great fog over his mind lifted. He did not face a monster or a thief. Sally held the Ring now.
His eyes softened and Frodo began to return to himself. "Sally?" he called.
Sally let the gun fall to her side. The intensity of the moment had passed and she released her tears. "I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo," she cried. "I just .I just couldn't let it happen again."
With clarity of mind, Frodo saw the extent of Sally's loyalty. Her faithfulness had saved them. He smiled gently. "I know. It's alright." Although the Ring still existed, he felt a small release. His burden had shifted. At the time of its destruction he would no longer be the Ringbearer. "Cast it into the fire," he told her and with heart and soul, he meant it.
As he spoke the words, she could feel the weight of the Ring consuming her. Its fingers reached into her mind, speaking, touching, invading. She held tightly to her master's words. She had taken the task upon herself now. She stepped towards the chasm and opened her hand, ready to release the Ring to the fire.
Its voice started as a whisper, something quiet and small that she felt she could ignore. It grew in intensity and insistence until she found herself listening to it. It spoke to her and she wanted to open her mind to it but in the glory of power and the promise of happiness it brought unpleasant tidings. She furrowed her brow. She didn't like what she heard. She closed her hand.
"What are you doing?" Frodo asked, seeing her hesitate.
"You didn't tell me," she said softly. Her gaze surveyed the field of fire below but her thoughts focused on something far removed from it.
He didn't like her quiet, accusing tone. "Sally, please, before it's too late," he insisted. He could see the Ring's push for preservation, its drive for dominance in her mind, the inevitability.
"You're going to die," she said. She turned to face him. The Ring had shown her in images and words. She didn't want to believe it but it made too much sense. "Tell me it lies," she pleaded. "Tell me that once this evil thing is gone you'll still be here."
Frodo let out a long breath, a sigh of defeat. His eyes could not leave hers. "I can't," he said. "It's been too long. There's too much of me inside of it."
Fresh tears fell from her face. The last of his secrets had finally been revealed. "You knew from the start, didn't you?" She wasn't angry. She was simply lost. A growing cacophony in her mind drove her farther and farther from home.
"I've always known," he said.
Sally turned back to the fire and clutched the Ring to her heart. "I don't have to destroy it," she said with a strange calm to her voice. "I could keep it."
"No, Sally."
Her mind had filled with old memories and feelings of hope. She could almost see nothing else. "We could go back to the Shire. I could be your Sam again. We could go home."
"No."
She could feel the power. All she had to do was reach out and take it. Everything would be as it should. "With this Ring, we could do anything."
Frodo could see her slipping away. He stepped toward her and took her hand, willing her to hear his words. "No, not anything," he said. "We could go to the Shire but it won't be our home." He knew what she saw reflected in the Ring's promise. He had seen it too once and wanted it just as badly as she did. But he knew better. With every wish, there's always some catch. No matter how much it hurt, some things are just too good to be true. "We've changed too much. No matter how powerful that Ring is, it can't change us back to the way we were before."
Sally fell to her knees. The weight of the Ring's power pushed her to the ground. Out of the din of madness in her mind a small part of her escaped, a small part of the real Sally cried out. "I can't do this! It's too much!" she wailed. She clasped her hands around her head, holding in what little she had left before she would explode. "There are too many voices in my head. I can't tell which is yours. I don't know what the truth is anymore. I don't know what to do."
Frodo reached out and place a comforting hand upon her bowed head. His heart swelled with sympathy. He would take away her pain if it were in his power, but that power was no longer in his hand. It was in hers. He had to make her see that it was her choice. "You know what to do," he said softly.
Sally looked to him as if he had struck her. She shook her head and closed her eyes tightly, shutting out reason. "Don't say that," she cried. "You know I can't do this. I can't let you die!"
To remain faithful to the quest meant losing him. To save him would mean betrayal to a pledge she had made long ago, a pledge to him. Though not fully removed from the Ring's influence, Frodo felt that his mind was his own. He could hear its call but it did not deafen him to the call of his own heart. For once, the answer was simple. "I don't want to live anymore," he said to Sally in a small but steady voice.
Sally met his eyes and away from the whispers in her head and the pressures on her soul, she saw truth there. She believed him. If this was what he wanted, what he needed, she would do it. She loved him. She would not fail him.
She fell against him, burying her face in his small chest. She held tightly to him, crying, grieving. This would be their good-bye.
Frodo stroked her hair and hugged her to him as she wept. His eyes were dry. Dying only hurts those who are left behind. He bent his head down to her and whispered. "Let it go. Let me go."
"I'm so sorry," she sobbed.
He shook his head with pity for her. "Please don't blame yourself."
She lifted her red eyes and wet face to him. At the end, all she could think of were regrets. She could count the days they had spent together on the fingers of her two hands. A handful of days that made the rest of her life seem a waste. If she could have it all back.. "There's so much I should have said, so much I should have done. I should have been better," she cried mournfully. "None of this should have happened."
Frodo placed his fingers upon her lips to quiet her. "No more wishes," he whispered, "not now. Save them." He reached for her hand that held the Ring. Instinctively she wanted to pull away but he did not try to take it. Somehow he had moved beyond that now. He simply covered her hand with his own, spreading warmth and peace to her trembling spirit. "It wants to stay. You feel it, don't you?"
Sniffling and wretched, Sally nodded.
"I feel it too," he said gravely. "It's a hunger that will never let you free."
Her face twisted in anguish. She pulled herself away from him. "I can't feel anything else!!" she raged. Every moment of their time had been tainted by the Ring. All happiness was fleeting and despair was inevitable. Like a spoiled child, it demanded every ounce of their will and their soul and their heart until there was nothing left. Nothing left. Poor Frodo. Only an empty shell of the hobbit he had once been. "I should fix this. I should save you. I can do it," she murmured in her delirium. Little by little the Ring picked away at her, crushing her spirit, bending her to its will. "I should have been better!" It stripped away all that she was, all her hopes, all her happiness. "Oh God, make it go away!" Until there was nothing left but pain..and rage. "Just make it go away!!"
In a final act of fury and vengeance, she flung the Ring into the fires of the Crack of Doom.
Silence. Despair washed over her, threatening to pull her into the fire after the Ring. What had she done? Dear God, it was gone.
A gentle sigh released from the burning field below. A spirit was freed, an essence of goodness to seep into a world painted in shades of darkness.
The ghosts and demons that had plagued her disappeared, leaving only Sally. She stared down at the fires in wonder. She didn't know how it happened. She couldn't recall her state of mind or what exactly gave her the strength to actually do it. She only remembered her anger, a black, seething fury had swelled within her and for a split second found its proper focus. It was over. The Ring was gone.
"I did it," she said aloud. She felt a flush of pride and turned to share it with Frodo.
Just out of her arm's reach she saw him. He laid still and quiet with his face turned away from her. She could only see the dark curls of his hair and the curve of his small fingers. No more patient smiles. No more wise eyes full of warmth and caring.
Frodo was gone.
Sally crawled to his side but she would not hope. Enough miracles had happened today. There were none left. If only she had saved one.
His face looked strangely peaceful and his skin was still warm to the touch as she took his hand into hers. She could almost believe that he was only sleeping but she knew he would not wake. She wanted to weep and mourn and wail loudly over his passing but her spirit was too weary. At the end of the quest, she was where she wanted to be, at her master's side.
She had never felt so alone.
"You told me to save my wishes," she said aloud, a greater part of her believing he
could hear her from where he had gone. "But without the Ring, all I have is myself and all my wishing isn't going to bring you back. . .Maybe I should save that too.. I shouldn't wish for you. It's not what you want." A bittersweet smile fell upon her lips and she looked to him fondly. "Oh, I know you'd do it, if you could. Just for me. But it's not fair. Who am I to be this selfish? You deserve to get what you want and you. . ." She swallowed hard. Her sorrow threatened to overtake her. "You wanted this. Your wish." She pulled his hand to her, to her heart. "So I'm going to keep my wish. I'm going to save it, Mr. Frodo, just like you told me too."
She settled onto the rock surface beside him, never once releasing his hand. She had another wish, unspoken but not forgotten. She had made it in her other life in the despairing darkness of Shelob's lair.
She would come back to him and never leave him again.
She got her wish.
TBC
Author's note: I hope that within the words of this chapter you will see why it was so difficult to write. Some of you knew this was coming but I know some of you did not. This was my plan from the start. Some of you ask me questions and I always make a point to answer any questions that I can. Ron's Girl asked me months ago, what would happen to Frodo when the Ring was destroyed. Now you can see why I couldn't answer.
There are other questions that I haven't answered.
And a couple questions I will answer tonight. Cheerleader15 asked if Frodo and Sally's relationship was platonic. Of course. I never planned on taking it anywhere Tolkien did not take Frodo's relationship with Sam. Elanor Gamgee asked if I would ever explain who the old woman at the inn was. She's really no one important. She was merely a plot device to show that Legolas had come to that inn almost throughout the ages. I honestly meant to go deeper into that little offshoot of the story but didn't for the purposes of time. There are a lot of scenes I meant to write more, a lot of unexplored alleys. For now, they will not be explored by me, but if anyone else out there would like to take a crack at them, let me know.
Whoops, I almost forgot. If this story tonight seemed a little too angsty and you need some lighter fair, check out Bookworm's "Dandelion". It has the sound of the Shire in it.
Don't worry, Nix. I'll plug yours next time. Promise.
Only one more chapter to go.
Chapter Eighteen : "Shadow of the Past" - Sally goes home. She finds her friends and receives a gift and an unexpected pledge.
They found themselves in the darkness, scrambling towards each other in desperate need of comfort and solace. Frodo nearly collapsed into Sally's lap, spilling a torrent of bitter tears into her elven cloak. He didn't know what he really wanted. He partly wished for her anger. He could not handle her fear. He knew she would want his reassurance, something he sorely, miserably lacked.
He had failed her. He was at a loss for what would happen next. "I.I couldn't stop it," he sobbed. A sad excuse for a hobbit who would be a god, but time and time again that simple statement summed up the totality of his life.
Sally held him, mired in her own feelings of guilt and inadequacy. She looked away from him even as her arms encircled him. She should not have let this happen. Her purpose, no matter what life she lived was to serve Frodo, to stand at his side and to help him. In every aspect this day, she had failed him. Gandalf was right to have tried to keep her behind. He had seen the larger picture she had blinded herself to. He knew the danger that she posed to the Ringbearer. Only now did she understand. She felt the shame wash over her in the tears spilled. "I wasn't worth this," she whispered to the air. She had been selfish.
Frodo looked up at her. He could not believe her words. In a way they horrified him, not in her willingness to sacrifice herself but in the effect her declaration had on him. They cemented his actions. He knew then that he would not have done anything differently. He chose to use the Ring. It didn't force his hand. No matter the fault in his logic, he would save her over the rest of the world. He took her hand and clutched it tightly. "Don't ever say that, Sally," he said pleadingly. "You're the only reason I'm here. You're the only reason I've held on for so long."
She found no comfort in his affirmation. She had followed him out of blind devotion but his devotion to her may have cost him the strength he needed to destroy the Ring. Wasn't that what this was all about? Had they forgotten? Had he? "What do we do now?" she asked, looking to him sadly. "Do you think you can go on?"
There it was, her quest for reassurance. Frodo had hoped she would delay it somehow. He didn't want to be the leader again.anymore. He was too tired. He simply wanted to cry. If his tears lasted an eternity, it would be a better existence than getting back to his feet and facing Mt. Doom.
But his tears would not serve Sally. She would follow him to the end but he would still have to lead. "I don't know," he said wearily. He tried to summon what remained of his wits and his strength but something held them back, something dark and heavy suffocating him, crushing him. "I can still feel it," he told her. "I can still hear it in my head, saying words I can't understand."
That was untrue. He knew exactly what the Ring was saying to him. He used the last ounce of his will refusing to listen.
"We found a way before, didn't we?" She didn't mean for her words to be a question. She didn't mean for her voice to sound so small and timid. She knew he needed her strength and she wanted to give it to him. She just needed to find it within herself. "We have to have hope."
She would not fail him again.
* * *
The path twisted up the angry, jagged face of Mt. Doom. Frodo stumbled blindly, holding to the rockface for support, groping the air around him for phantoms only he could see. Sally followed him, guiding him when he seemed to lose his way. He hardly seemed to notice her presence. Only when she offered to bear him upon her back again did he rouse himself to wave her off. This was his battle, his own demon he had to defeat. He did not want to share.
For the time, though his efforts seemed pitiful, he could hold it back. Any moment he would collapse, let the ground swallow him up and move no more. No enemy chased them now. They did not need to hide from orc, or Nazgul or the once ever-present Eye. Their bodies were well-nourished, well-clothed and they carried clean, clear water with them. Their weakness and despair of failure came form the torment of the Ring alone. It only had to stop them once. Once and for all.
So blinded by her careful watch over her master, Sally missed the ironic familiarity of their path. Although the world had aged, flourishing and dying through the passage of years, Mount Doom had remained unchanged. Not a rock had moved. Even the dust was undisturbed. Had her eyes strayed from Frodo and glanced down to her trail, she would have seen the ghostly impressions made by footprints she had cast centuries ago. But all of this was lost on her.
Only when they faced the door of Sammath Naur and the hot breath of the fires within blew across her face did the realization stir within Sally's mind. She remembered this. She knew this.
Frodo preceded her with renewed determination in his step. Sally followed quickly, fearful that she would lose him in the darkness.
Just as she began to fumble for her flashlight, the fires of the Crack of Doom illuminated her vision. Frodo stood at the edge of the great chasm. He had taken out the Ring and held it in his open hand.
It seemed so simple now. Just toss the Ring into the fire and it would be done. All he needed to do was turn his hand and let it fall, let it burn, let it be gone. Once it might have been that simple. Not now. Now there was confusion, hesitation, pain. The air was stagnant with it. Sally could taste it. Her master had begun to falter again. "Frodo..?" she called.
For a long moment, he stood motionless before the burning light. Sally felt a sinking fear that he would never speak or move again, but as she began to reach for him he finally answered her. "I'm lost, Sally," he said as if from far away. "I can't hear you anymore." He shook his head and slowly he stepped away from the chasm. "I can't do this." He said his words plaintively, a last plea for help as his will gave way to the seduction of the Ring. Its power overcame him and his expression became cold and resolute. "I won't do this."
A feral, unanticipated anger erupted from Sally. No. No. NO. Damned, damned, damned Ring. She struck Frodo with all the wrath and frustration she had hidden within her.
The action surprised them both and sent Frodo to the ground. The Ring rolled free from his hand.
Still on her feet, Sally reached for it. She had no conscious thought in her mind of what she was doing only the instinctive need to keep it away from her master.
Frodo scrambled for her. His face had twisted into a contorted mask of horror and fury. "NO!!! Get away from it!" he screamed at her. "Don't touch it! IT'S MINE!!"
But he was too late. Sally had picked up the Ring and stepped out of Frodo's desperate grasp.
His lust for the Ring had clouded his sight. Instead of his devoted friend and companion, he saw only a monstrous thief. He would have to punish her for playing with his things. He nearly snarled as he sprang to his feet to confront her.
He took one menacing step towards her and faltered. Out of a sense of survival, he stopped advancing on her. The instinct was not as old as his need for the Ring but it was no less irresistible. In the world of man, one learns at an early age to stand still while staring down the barrel of a gun.
Sally trembled at her terrifying predicament. Would she fire her gun? Even she didn't know. Each move she made came from desperation and fear. Each step was blind to the future plans of the next. "No," she asserted in a voice thick with emotion, "I can't let you have it. You're not yourself."
Frodo shook with helpless rage. He wanted his Ring back but his fear of the gun held him in check. He felt its absence keenly like a gaping hole in his chest, cold and empty. He had to get it back. It had not left his possession for centuries. He almost could not remember the last time but he knew there was once another Ringbearer. Sam had carried it for him when he could not protect it.
Sam. Frodo's vision began to clear. The great fog over his mind lifted. He did not face a monster or a thief. Sally held the Ring now.
His eyes softened and Frodo began to return to himself. "Sally?" he called.
Sally let the gun fall to her side. The intensity of the moment had passed and she released her tears. "I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo," she cried. "I just .I just couldn't let it happen again."
With clarity of mind, Frodo saw the extent of Sally's loyalty. Her faithfulness had saved them. He smiled gently. "I know. It's alright." Although the Ring still existed, he felt a small release. His burden had shifted. At the time of its destruction he would no longer be the Ringbearer. "Cast it into the fire," he told her and with heart and soul, he meant it.
As he spoke the words, she could feel the weight of the Ring consuming her. Its fingers reached into her mind, speaking, touching, invading. She held tightly to her master's words. She had taken the task upon herself now. She stepped towards the chasm and opened her hand, ready to release the Ring to the fire.
Its voice started as a whisper, something quiet and small that she felt she could ignore. It grew in intensity and insistence until she found herself listening to it. It spoke to her and she wanted to open her mind to it but in the glory of power and the promise of happiness it brought unpleasant tidings. She furrowed her brow. She didn't like what she heard. She closed her hand.
"What are you doing?" Frodo asked, seeing her hesitate.
"You didn't tell me," she said softly. Her gaze surveyed the field of fire below but her thoughts focused on something far removed from it.
He didn't like her quiet, accusing tone. "Sally, please, before it's too late," he insisted. He could see the Ring's push for preservation, its drive for dominance in her mind, the inevitability.
"You're going to die," she said. She turned to face him. The Ring had shown her in images and words. She didn't want to believe it but it made too much sense. "Tell me it lies," she pleaded. "Tell me that once this evil thing is gone you'll still be here."
Frodo let out a long breath, a sigh of defeat. His eyes could not leave hers. "I can't," he said. "It's been too long. There's too much of me inside of it."
Fresh tears fell from her face. The last of his secrets had finally been revealed. "You knew from the start, didn't you?" She wasn't angry. She was simply lost. A growing cacophony in her mind drove her farther and farther from home.
"I've always known," he said.
Sally turned back to the fire and clutched the Ring to her heart. "I don't have to destroy it," she said with a strange calm to her voice. "I could keep it."
"No, Sally."
Her mind had filled with old memories and feelings of hope. She could almost see nothing else. "We could go back to the Shire. I could be your Sam again. We could go home."
"No."
She could feel the power. All she had to do was reach out and take it. Everything would be as it should. "With this Ring, we could do anything."
Frodo could see her slipping away. He stepped toward her and took her hand, willing her to hear his words. "No, not anything," he said. "We could go to the Shire but it won't be our home." He knew what she saw reflected in the Ring's promise. He had seen it too once and wanted it just as badly as she did. But he knew better. With every wish, there's always some catch. No matter how much it hurt, some things are just too good to be true. "We've changed too much. No matter how powerful that Ring is, it can't change us back to the way we were before."
Sally fell to her knees. The weight of the Ring's power pushed her to the ground. Out of the din of madness in her mind a small part of her escaped, a small part of the real Sally cried out. "I can't do this! It's too much!" she wailed. She clasped her hands around her head, holding in what little she had left before she would explode. "There are too many voices in my head. I can't tell which is yours. I don't know what the truth is anymore. I don't know what to do."
Frodo reached out and place a comforting hand upon her bowed head. His heart swelled with sympathy. He would take away her pain if it were in his power, but that power was no longer in his hand. It was in hers. He had to make her see that it was her choice. "You know what to do," he said softly.
Sally looked to him as if he had struck her. She shook her head and closed her eyes tightly, shutting out reason. "Don't say that," she cried. "You know I can't do this. I can't let you die!"
To remain faithful to the quest meant losing him. To save him would mean betrayal to a pledge she had made long ago, a pledge to him. Though not fully removed from the Ring's influence, Frodo felt that his mind was his own. He could hear its call but it did not deafen him to the call of his own heart. For once, the answer was simple. "I don't want to live anymore," he said to Sally in a small but steady voice.
Sally met his eyes and away from the whispers in her head and the pressures on her soul, she saw truth there. She believed him. If this was what he wanted, what he needed, she would do it. She loved him. She would not fail him.
She fell against him, burying her face in his small chest. She held tightly to him, crying, grieving. This would be their good-bye.
Frodo stroked her hair and hugged her to him as she wept. His eyes were dry. Dying only hurts those who are left behind. He bent his head down to her and whispered. "Let it go. Let me go."
"I'm so sorry," she sobbed.
He shook his head with pity for her. "Please don't blame yourself."
She lifted her red eyes and wet face to him. At the end, all she could think of were regrets. She could count the days they had spent together on the fingers of her two hands. A handful of days that made the rest of her life seem a waste. If she could have it all back.. "There's so much I should have said, so much I should have done. I should have been better," she cried mournfully. "None of this should have happened."
Frodo placed his fingers upon her lips to quiet her. "No more wishes," he whispered, "not now. Save them." He reached for her hand that held the Ring. Instinctively she wanted to pull away but he did not try to take it. Somehow he had moved beyond that now. He simply covered her hand with his own, spreading warmth and peace to her trembling spirit. "It wants to stay. You feel it, don't you?"
Sniffling and wretched, Sally nodded.
"I feel it too," he said gravely. "It's a hunger that will never let you free."
Her face twisted in anguish. She pulled herself away from him. "I can't feel anything else!!" she raged. Every moment of their time had been tainted by the Ring. All happiness was fleeting and despair was inevitable. Like a spoiled child, it demanded every ounce of their will and their soul and their heart until there was nothing left. Nothing left. Poor Frodo. Only an empty shell of the hobbit he had once been. "I should fix this. I should save you. I can do it," she murmured in her delirium. Little by little the Ring picked away at her, crushing her spirit, bending her to its will. "I should have been better!" It stripped away all that she was, all her hopes, all her happiness. "Oh God, make it go away!" Until there was nothing left but pain..and rage. "Just make it go away!!"
In a final act of fury and vengeance, she flung the Ring into the fires of the Crack of Doom.
Silence. Despair washed over her, threatening to pull her into the fire after the Ring. What had she done? Dear God, it was gone.
A gentle sigh released from the burning field below. A spirit was freed, an essence of goodness to seep into a world painted in shades of darkness.
The ghosts and demons that had plagued her disappeared, leaving only Sally. She stared down at the fires in wonder. She didn't know how it happened. She couldn't recall her state of mind or what exactly gave her the strength to actually do it. She only remembered her anger, a black, seething fury had swelled within her and for a split second found its proper focus. It was over. The Ring was gone.
"I did it," she said aloud. She felt a flush of pride and turned to share it with Frodo.
Just out of her arm's reach she saw him. He laid still and quiet with his face turned away from her. She could only see the dark curls of his hair and the curve of his small fingers. No more patient smiles. No more wise eyes full of warmth and caring.
Frodo was gone.
Sally crawled to his side but she would not hope. Enough miracles had happened today. There were none left. If only she had saved one.
His face looked strangely peaceful and his skin was still warm to the touch as she took his hand into hers. She could almost believe that he was only sleeping but she knew he would not wake. She wanted to weep and mourn and wail loudly over his passing but her spirit was too weary. At the end of the quest, she was where she wanted to be, at her master's side.
She had never felt so alone.
"You told me to save my wishes," she said aloud, a greater part of her believing he
could hear her from where he had gone. "But without the Ring, all I have is myself and all my wishing isn't going to bring you back. . .Maybe I should save that too.. I shouldn't wish for you. It's not what you want." A bittersweet smile fell upon her lips and she looked to him fondly. "Oh, I know you'd do it, if you could. Just for me. But it's not fair. Who am I to be this selfish? You deserve to get what you want and you. . ." She swallowed hard. Her sorrow threatened to overtake her. "You wanted this. Your wish." She pulled his hand to her, to her heart. "So I'm going to keep my wish. I'm going to save it, Mr. Frodo, just like you told me too."
She settled onto the rock surface beside him, never once releasing his hand. She had another wish, unspoken but not forgotten. She had made it in her other life in the despairing darkness of Shelob's lair.
She would come back to him and never leave him again.
She got her wish.
TBC
Author's note: I hope that within the words of this chapter you will see why it was so difficult to write. Some of you knew this was coming but I know some of you did not. This was my plan from the start. Some of you ask me questions and I always make a point to answer any questions that I can. Ron's Girl asked me months ago, what would happen to Frodo when the Ring was destroyed. Now you can see why I couldn't answer.
There are other questions that I haven't answered.
And a couple questions I will answer tonight. Cheerleader15 asked if Frodo and Sally's relationship was platonic. Of course. I never planned on taking it anywhere Tolkien did not take Frodo's relationship with Sam. Elanor Gamgee asked if I would ever explain who the old woman at the inn was. She's really no one important. She was merely a plot device to show that Legolas had come to that inn almost throughout the ages. I honestly meant to go deeper into that little offshoot of the story but didn't for the purposes of time. There are a lot of scenes I meant to write more, a lot of unexplored alleys. For now, they will not be explored by me, but if anyone else out there would like to take a crack at them, let me know.
Whoops, I almost forgot. If this story tonight seemed a little too angsty and you need some lighter fair, check out Bookworm's "Dandelion". It has the sound of the Shire in it.
Don't worry, Nix. I'll plug yours next time. Promise.
Only one more chapter to go.
Chapter Eighteen : "Shadow of the Past" - Sally goes home. She finds her friends and receives a gift and an unexpected pledge.