Disclaimer: AU Story. The fourth large LOTR fic! My word, not another,
surely? The characters are not mine. The settings are not mine. The plot
is, however, my creation. I hope you find this an enjoyable read.
CStini: *jumps up and down and bites fingernails maniacally* Now you're getting _me_ all wound up! Gah! Help! Going mad!
Bookworm2000: I gave you chills? Wow, I'm evil. All I need now is an eyepatch and a white cat! Nyah, I'm not too keen on any version of Gollum. He's too evil and- well, what he does to Frodo *sharpens Sting*. You do Gollum impression? Fantastic you! I do the creepy intake of breath and "My precious"...I do it behind my friend's backs and one of them started so abruptly that they punched me in the face! *whimper* But at least I know I'm not the only one who does it. :-)
Shirebound: *evil laugh* There is never enough angst! But, yes, I've got to get Frodo and Sam together again- they're too cuddly to keep apart for long...
????: Hehe, I can't get over how cool your name is... ahem, sorry. Back to the review. Yes! The evil of the Ring always got me in the book and I wondered how it might control Frodo so completely. Gah, I'm so bad, I've got to make speedy reunions. I've actually planned some of the reunion for Garden of the Moon and it ought to be dead climax-y...but then I may screw it up utterly *kicks self* But hey! I remember that line from the BBC version- that was just so sweet. The Cirith Ungol part made me cry!
MagicalRachel: Of course! Did you expect me to have stopped torturing hobbits? Pff, the idea is ridiculous. Thank you so much! Sorry I made you cry though! *hands handkerchief* Hope this one is a little less weepy. Did I say kings? Queens then, yes. Banana milkshake supping queens of FF.net, although I think we'd have to beat down a few competitors such as Jeva, Skye etc. Oh, but then there's Shirebound...dammit! Oh yes, the thought of being killed by a hobbit is quite angsty and appealing. I could write a fic about it- Frodo's Revenge. *Gondorian warriors begin to try and break down the door* AAAH!
~ Chapter Ten ~
Morning was bitterly cold. Frodo could feel his eyelids sinking lower and lower and every once in a while he would trip over his lagging feet, pick himself up again and continue the trek. He had not stopped all night and he was exhausted. The horizon shimmered before his eyes, fogged by smoke and rising ash. He tripped again and tumbled forward to lie in the grass, clutching at his ankle. He could sense the Ring's frustration at being kept waiting.
*Hurry!*
But Frodo could not go on without rest any longer.
"I can't go on any more," he said wearily. But the Ring would not be overruled. Its rage coursed like fire through the hobbit curled limply amid the heather. He flinched but still did not move.
"I can't!" he shouted, "I can't!"
*You must!*
It sounded like a hiss in his mind, angry and filled with malice. He could feel the heat of it searing his skin. Finally, when he knew that he could not disobey, Frodo looked again to the horizon. He had nearly reached the summit of the rise; he would soon be able to see where the smoke was coming from. So, hand over hand, Frodo dragged himself through the grass. He lost all sense of time and only knew that he must reach the summit. The Ring's anger did not abate until he was gazing across shrubland towards the blaze that was Osgiliath. The city, its turrets and towers streaked with dust and potted with holes, was burning. A river wound sluggishly beneath the two crumbling bridges, its silver water poisoned by blood and ash. Even from here, Frodo could make out flickers of movement as both men and orcs toppled from the walls. There were sudden streaks of darkness patching the pale light as arrows cut paths through the air. He breathed in sharply and put a hand to the chain about his neck.
"Why must I go there? I'll just be killed!"
*Because it will all end. They are sending someone to end your suffering here. You will not be in pain any longer. You can go home to the Shire, where it is safe. Not long now.*
"You're lying!" Frodo cried desperately, fighting the Ring's will.
*No, no, precious. I am calling to them and they will send something to take away all this unnecessary struggle. You will be free.*
The hobbit clutched at the chain. The Ring would not lie to him. It loved him. All It wanted was for him to be free of his pain. It was helping him.
*Rest for a moment,* the Ring soothed, *Not long now.*
Through the tangled twigs and leaves, Gollum peered out and watched as the master drifted into a gentle sleep, his hands still wrapped protectively round the precious. No! His precious! It was his! He hissed furiously, striking the ground with his hand.
"Not fair, precious, not fair. We cannot take It without waking the master. But we must stop him, mustn't we? Stop him from going to the river- city. Or all will be lost, precious, all lost and burning! Sss, but must be patient, must be patient. Not long now, eh?"
He laughed to himself and then quickly covered his mouth with both hands. Just in case the Ring heard him.
~
"Captain Faramir!" one of the men shouted. Sam started out of sleep, eyes snapping open and instinctively taking in everything around him. There was a man standing in the open doorway. His face was pale with fear. He looked to the hobbit and asked,
"Where's the Captain? I must speak with him."
"Went off down that passage there," Sam replied, pointing to the corridor.
"Thank you," gasped the messenger and ran off down the indicated route.
Stifling a yawn, Sam got to his feet. He found himself missing the wide fields of grass, even the soft springy turf of the marsh. Anything rather than the cold stone walls of the cave. He felt cut off from the world...and Mister Frodo, wherever he was. He wandered across the room to the small table that Faramir had been sitting at the previous night. From his height, he could only just make out what appeared to be a map stretched out across its face.
"Be nice to find out how far we've come since Rivendell," Sam muttered to himself, "I'm tired of not knowing where I am for days on end."
The hobbit climbed up onto the chair and studied the map critically. He could hardly believe what he discovered. Using the tip of his thumb, he traced their journey from the single point marking the last homely home. There was the place where Gandalf had fended off those Wargs, there was the blue of lake outside Moria. Little did anyone know yet that the mines had been sealed. There was Lórien and with it the Lady.
"And the Star-Glass," Sam breathed, "Well, I hope the Lady knew what she was doing giving Frodo that phial. Maybe it'll guide him on to Mordor or...or perhaps it'll bring him here and safe. Then maybe even the Lady can't do that."
The river coiled away for a long while. There were the rapids and the waterfall. There were the two hills on either side and beyond them the rocks of Emyn Muil. The wide patch of marshland and the Black Gate. Past that lay Ithilien, following the black mountains of Mordor down and... Sam looked again, eyes flicking up and down the space of map. It was slowly sinking in, with stomach wrenching horror, that there was no pass through those mountains. They had missed it. The Black Gate was the only way in and they had missed it!
Sam jumped off the chair as he heard the sound of resounding footsteps. He backed away to the corner of the room and listened as Faramir and the messenger exchanged anxious words.
"There are no reinforcements from Minas Tirith?" asked the Captain.
"They can't spare them! Not with the new recruits coming through the Gate. Pelennor is swarming with Uruk-Hai."
"There is no word from Rohan?"
"No, sir. King Théoden has not been heard from for much time."
"So how many defend Osgiliath then?"
"Seventy, eighty at most, sir."
"Eighty?" Faramir exclaimed in disbelief, "My men only number a hundred! We may not even be able to help them then. And what of Ithilien? I cannot leave that unguarded."
"You must. Or Osgiliath will fall."
The Captain glanced across at Sam. He sighed.
"Very well. When should we leave?"
"As soon as you are able. The city burns as we speak."
"Samwise!"
The hobbit snapped to attention.
"Samwise," Faramir repeated, "You will come with me to Osgiliath. There, you will be escorted to Minas Tirith. Can you have that arranged?"
The messenger nodded but Sam was shaking his head angrily.
"I don't want to go anywhere!" he shouted, "That's not where I'm supposed to be going!"
"I thought you said you were following something. A creature of some kind. You spoke of no destination."
"Well, no. That's part of the oath too and no doubt if your Boromir's brother you wouldn't like it neither."
Something flashed in the Captain's eyes but he did not press the matter. He knew well enough he would not get any answers.
"You are going to Minas Tirith, where you will be brought before the Steward of Gondor. You may not speak to me but you shall speak to him and tell him all you know of the Ring of Power."
The messenger looked stunned.
"This halfling knows of the Ring? It has truly been found then?"
"Enough words," Faramir said curtly, "Come, we shall leave. You take the halfl- hobbit, and I will gather my men. We leave at once."
Sam's heart sank to his feet as the messenger took hold of his shoulder and marched him from the room. The quest had failed. Even if his master was safe, Sam could imagine him, walking along the mountains endlessly, searching for a way in to complete his task. Then being captured by orcs and hurt or worse. And now it seemed that there were a great many more things worse than just being hurt. Failing, undoubtedly, was one of them.
~
Forgive me, readers, if I've got numbers wrong in Osgiliath! I promise that I'm trying to make things accurate. :-P
CStini: *jumps up and down and bites fingernails maniacally* Now you're getting _me_ all wound up! Gah! Help! Going mad!
Bookworm2000: I gave you chills? Wow, I'm evil. All I need now is an eyepatch and a white cat! Nyah, I'm not too keen on any version of Gollum. He's too evil and- well, what he does to Frodo *sharpens Sting*. You do Gollum impression? Fantastic you! I do the creepy intake of breath and "My precious"...I do it behind my friend's backs and one of them started so abruptly that they punched me in the face! *whimper* But at least I know I'm not the only one who does it. :-)
Shirebound: *evil laugh* There is never enough angst! But, yes, I've got to get Frodo and Sam together again- they're too cuddly to keep apart for long...
????: Hehe, I can't get over how cool your name is... ahem, sorry. Back to the review. Yes! The evil of the Ring always got me in the book and I wondered how it might control Frodo so completely. Gah, I'm so bad, I've got to make speedy reunions. I've actually planned some of the reunion for Garden of the Moon and it ought to be dead climax-y...but then I may screw it up utterly *kicks self* But hey! I remember that line from the BBC version- that was just so sweet. The Cirith Ungol part made me cry!
MagicalRachel: Of course! Did you expect me to have stopped torturing hobbits? Pff, the idea is ridiculous. Thank you so much! Sorry I made you cry though! *hands handkerchief* Hope this one is a little less weepy. Did I say kings? Queens then, yes. Banana milkshake supping queens of FF.net, although I think we'd have to beat down a few competitors such as Jeva, Skye etc. Oh, but then there's Shirebound...dammit! Oh yes, the thought of being killed by a hobbit is quite angsty and appealing. I could write a fic about it- Frodo's Revenge. *Gondorian warriors begin to try and break down the door* AAAH!
~ Chapter Ten ~
Morning was bitterly cold. Frodo could feel his eyelids sinking lower and lower and every once in a while he would trip over his lagging feet, pick himself up again and continue the trek. He had not stopped all night and he was exhausted. The horizon shimmered before his eyes, fogged by smoke and rising ash. He tripped again and tumbled forward to lie in the grass, clutching at his ankle. He could sense the Ring's frustration at being kept waiting.
*Hurry!*
But Frodo could not go on without rest any longer.
"I can't go on any more," he said wearily. But the Ring would not be overruled. Its rage coursed like fire through the hobbit curled limply amid the heather. He flinched but still did not move.
"I can't!" he shouted, "I can't!"
*You must!*
It sounded like a hiss in his mind, angry and filled with malice. He could feel the heat of it searing his skin. Finally, when he knew that he could not disobey, Frodo looked again to the horizon. He had nearly reached the summit of the rise; he would soon be able to see where the smoke was coming from. So, hand over hand, Frodo dragged himself through the grass. He lost all sense of time and only knew that he must reach the summit. The Ring's anger did not abate until he was gazing across shrubland towards the blaze that was Osgiliath. The city, its turrets and towers streaked with dust and potted with holes, was burning. A river wound sluggishly beneath the two crumbling bridges, its silver water poisoned by blood and ash. Even from here, Frodo could make out flickers of movement as both men and orcs toppled from the walls. There were sudden streaks of darkness patching the pale light as arrows cut paths through the air. He breathed in sharply and put a hand to the chain about his neck.
"Why must I go there? I'll just be killed!"
*Because it will all end. They are sending someone to end your suffering here. You will not be in pain any longer. You can go home to the Shire, where it is safe. Not long now.*
"You're lying!" Frodo cried desperately, fighting the Ring's will.
*No, no, precious. I am calling to them and they will send something to take away all this unnecessary struggle. You will be free.*
The hobbit clutched at the chain. The Ring would not lie to him. It loved him. All It wanted was for him to be free of his pain. It was helping him.
*Rest for a moment,* the Ring soothed, *Not long now.*
Through the tangled twigs and leaves, Gollum peered out and watched as the master drifted into a gentle sleep, his hands still wrapped protectively round the precious. No! His precious! It was his! He hissed furiously, striking the ground with his hand.
"Not fair, precious, not fair. We cannot take It without waking the master. But we must stop him, mustn't we? Stop him from going to the river- city. Or all will be lost, precious, all lost and burning! Sss, but must be patient, must be patient. Not long now, eh?"
He laughed to himself and then quickly covered his mouth with both hands. Just in case the Ring heard him.
~
"Captain Faramir!" one of the men shouted. Sam started out of sleep, eyes snapping open and instinctively taking in everything around him. There was a man standing in the open doorway. His face was pale with fear. He looked to the hobbit and asked,
"Where's the Captain? I must speak with him."
"Went off down that passage there," Sam replied, pointing to the corridor.
"Thank you," gasped the messenger and ran off down the indicated route.
Stifling a yawn, Sam got to his feet. He found himself missing the wide fields of grass, even the soft springy turf of the marsh. Anything rather than the cold stone walls of the cave. He felt cut off from the world...and Mister Frodo, wherever he was. He wandered across the room to the small table that Faramir had been sitting at the previous night. From his height, he could only just make out what appeared to be a map stretched out across its face.
"Be nice to find out how far we've come since Rivendell," Sam muttered to himself, "I'm tired of not knowing where I am for days on end."
The hobbit climbed up onto the chair and studied the map critically. He could hardly believe what he discovered. Using the tip of his thumb, he traced their journey from the single point marking the last homely home. There was the place where Gandalf had fended off those Wargs, there was the blue of lake outside Moria. Little did anyone know yet that the mines had been sealed. There was Lórien and with it the Lady.
"And the Star-Glass," Sam breathed, "Well, I hope the Lady knew what she was doing giving Frodo that phial. Maybe it'll guide him on to Mordor or...or perhaps it'll bring him here and safe. Then maybe even the Lady can't do that."
The river coiled away for a long while. There were the rapids and the waterfall. There were the two hills on either side and beyond them the rocks of Emyn Muil. The wide patch of marshland and the Black Gate. Past that lay Ithilien, following the black mountains of Mordor down and... Sam looked again, eyes flicking up and down the space of map. It was slowly sinking in, with stomach wrenching horror, that there was no pass through those mountains. They had missed it. The Black Gate was the only way in and they had missed it!
Sam jumped off the chair as he heard the sound of resounding footsteps. He backed away to the corner of the room and listened as Faramir and the messenger exchanged anxious words.
"There are no reinforcements from Minas Tirith?" asked the Captain.
"They can't spare them! Not with the new recruits coming through the Gate. Pelennor is swarming with Uruk-Hai."
"There is no word from Rohan?"
"No, sir. King Théoden has not been heard from for much time."
"So how many defend Osgiliath then?"
"Seventy, eighty at most, sir."
"Eighty?" Faramir exclaimed in disbelief, "My men only number a hundred! We may not even be able to help them then. And what of Ithilien? I cannot leave that unguarded."
"You must. Or Osgiliath will fall."
The Captain glanced across at Sam. He sighed.
"Very well. When should we leave?"
"As soon as you are able. The city burns as we speak."
"Samwise!"
The hobbit snapped to attention.
"Samwise," Faramir repeated, "You will come with me to Osgiliath. There, you will be escorted to Minas Tirith. Can you have that arranged?"
The messenger nodded but Sam was shaking his head angrily.
"I don't want to go anywhere!" he shouted, "That's not where I'm supposed to be going!"
"I thought you said you were following something. A creature of some kind. You spoke of no destination."
"Well, no. That's part of the oath too and no doubt if your Boromir's brother you wouldn't like it neither."
Something flashed in the Captain's eyes but he did not press the matter. He knew well enough he would not get any answers.
"You are going to Minas Tirith, where you will be brought before the Steward of Gondor. You may not speak to me but you shall speak to him and tell him all you know of the Ring of Power."
The messenger looked stunned.
"This halfling knows of the Ring? It has truly been found then?"
"Enough words," Faramir said curtly, "Come, we shall leave. You take the halfl- hobbit, and I will gather my men. We leave at once."
Sam's heart sank to his feet as the messenger took hold of his shoulder and marched him from the room. The quest had failed. Even if his master was safe, Sam could imagine him, walking along the mountains endlessly, searching for a way in to complete his task. Then being captured by orcs and hurt or worse. And now it seemed that there were a great many more things worse than just being hurt. Failing, undoubtedly, was one of them.
~
Forgive me, readers, if I've got numbers wrong in Osgiliath! I promise that I'm trying to make things accurate. :-P