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.
Shirebound: *sigh* Yes, I know, but it was worth a try. Maybe Fanfiction hates LOTR... *loads gun once again to blow off Xing's other arm* Thank you! I promise to try and save my beloved -ahem- I mean, Frodo, in this chapter.
MagicalRachel: No, thanks for the review- it did show this time. Hehe, this wouldn't be an Ailsa Joy story without fear and angst. Ah, but you do bring up a valid point. It's supposed to be only a rumour about this halfling. Perhaps people have got wind of Boromir's dream verse from the city? *sobs* I'm sorry! It's an AU story! Forgive me! Speaking of plotholes, though, what of your chapter??
Holly Wood: I'm sorry! I can't get enough cliffhangers, I'm an addict! I'm so pleased I kept you on the edge, least it shows I'm achieving some sort of emotion. But don't worry! I promise not to leave it on a cliffhanger today. :-)
CStini: Oh, don't fret about that. I don't mind. The reviews are a bonus to the joy of writing! :-P I won't let the Ring torture Frodo for more than a few paragraphs more, honest! Sam will be there for him!
Irish Flying Fish: Wicked name! Thanks so much for the review and yes, I will attempt Sam's rescue for Frodo. He's such a sweetheart. Really pleased you're enjoying Garden of the Moon- your comments make it all worthwhile.
~ Chapter Thirteen ~
If anything would be remembered from this story, it would Sam's utter devotion to his master. He knew that the Ring had sung Frodo to sleep and soon that Nazgûl would swoop down out of the smoke and end it all. Middle- Earth would be over. What Sam did not know is whether he would be in time. But, of course, being Sam, he did not stop to think any of that. At Gollum's first cry he was running. Down the slopes of rubble, through the skeletons of houses, right up to the riverside. But he could go no further. Both the bridges were burning.
--
Frodo walked up the steps one after another, concentrating his whole mind on the path ahead.
*Yes, precious, nearly there. We're close now.*
He closed his fingers tightly round the gold band and took another step. Then he faltered. What was wrong? Someone was calling him.
*No! Forget them! Go on! Must go on!*
"Yes, precious," Frodo slurred. He could feel the wall beneath him shake and there was the heat of flames on his skin. His cloak billowed round him in the gathering smoke, fluttered against his arms in weak protest of his movement. But the precious had told him to go. That was his duty. Soon it would all be over, the precious said, and he would be at home. Back at Bag End, yes, yes.
"Master!"
It broke his train of thought and Frodo shook himself. The precious was still speaking- urging him towards the summit of the wall. He looked up to the boiling black sky. The clouds and smog were forming strange patterns, as if caught in an updraft of air. Another step. Only a few more. Why was this such a force of will? Frodo stopped a moment, brow furrowing, trying to block out the insistent calling. It was something only Sam would do. Foolish Samwise! He would not understand that he was doing the right thing now. The Ring was bringing someone to finish the task. Then he could go home! His feet touched the top of the wall and it seemed to the hobbit that all the world's noise was muffled here. Though wind still slapped at his face, its shrieking and moaning was silenced.
*We are here, precious, the Ring whispered, It is nearly over.*
Frodo turned on legs of stone to overlook the city. The river glinted gold in the growing sunlight. A black reflection was caught fleetingly on its surface, arching its great wings up. Then it was gone again. Then a violent gust of air flew up in Frodo's face, knocking him backwards, forcing the breath from his lungs. He could hear bitter laughter in his ears as he grabbed at the wall's side with his free hand, steadying himself against the blast.
It came. Black as a moonless twilight. Black as the drop of Khazad-Dum. No light penetrated its leathery wings and only the faintest sheen glittered on its long teeth. The dragon reared back, revealing its rider and bringing it face to face with the Ringbearer. The claws opened wide and there was a scream that pierced the folds of Frodo's delirium and brought him back with such force that he was almost hurled from the wall. The jaws opened in a malicious smile. The rider's armoured hand drew so close that Frodo could feel the evil running off it like freezing water.
And then.then.
--
Sopping wet, Sam launched himself up the stairway and along the wall. It took his breath away. Frodo was there, backed against the wall, his hand still closed firmly over the Ring, eyes wide with horror as they took in the monster rising above him, its steel claws a hair's breadth away from his face. Sam leapt, catching his master's hand as he fell and brought them both face down onto the ground. Pain flickered through his body but he did not care. They had to get away before anything happened. The black legs coiled above as the Nazgûl screeched. He was going to dive. Sam closed his eyes and squeezed his master's hand. So close! Grey hands were pulling at his back, dragging him along the walkway.
"Stupid wraith!"
Sam felt Frodo begin tugging backwards, pushing against his firm hold.
"No, Frodo, no!" he screamed as the claws came rushing down. They were like silver flame, racing down into the white parapet and digging down around the hobbits. But something was still pulling them away, determinedly locked onto Sam's arm and dragging him and his master back towards the stairs. Then there was another, far louder echoing wail that rent the air like knives as arrows sped upwards and into the belly of the Nazgûl. The claws tore away as the dragon writhed in its agony, drawing itself higher up into the sky, away from wall. Sam thought he heard Frodo cry out.
"Come back! Please, don't leave me!"
But he cast it from his mind. There was a hissing at his neck and the grey hands again, prodding at his face.
"Stupid wraith not catch fat hobbit yet. Precious is safe. Yes, yes, precious. Almost! Almost! Yes. Sss, but wraith lost the precious this time, eh?"
There was hoarse laughter and Sam looked up into Gollum's withered face. When the creature opened his eyes again, he looked down at Sam and, for the first time in a very long time, he smiled. A real smile. It looked very peculiar on his shrunken face but there was an age when it might have suited him, Sam thought, and after all, he saved my master. That's enough, ain't it?
"Sam?"
The hobbit looked round awkwardly to see Frodo's face beginning to clear. He had released the Ring and it hung now by its chain, seething with rage. But Sam could not care less. He reached forward and brought Frodo gently into his arms. For a moment, his friend did not appear to realise but then he felt the thin fingers dig into his back and a long exhaling breath. At last, they were not alone any more. At long last.
Gollum watched the hobbits embrace with resentment. After all, without him, neither of them would be alive. Stupid hobbits, he thought unhappily. He did not say it aloud though. Instead, he sat back with his arms round his knees and rocked back and forth, watching as Sam drew back and habitually study his master's face and make sure there were no tears. There were none. For some reason, this made Gollum feel, well, glad again. Better having the stupid hobbits together than one without the other.
~
Not quite the end; I've just got to sew up the last few ends and then I'll cut the thread, so to speak. Thank you so much for your comments and critiques, you're all wonderful!
Shirebound: *sigh* Yes, I know, but it was worth a try. Maybe Fanfiction hates LOTR... *loads gun once again to blow off Xing's other arm* Thank you! I promise to try and save my beloved -ahem- I mean, Frodo, in this chapter.
MagicalRachel: No, thanks for the review- it did show this time. Hehe, this wouldn't be an Ailsa Joy story without fear and angst. Ah, but you do bring up a valid point. It's supposed to be only a rumour about this halfling. Perhaps people have got wind of Boromir's dream verse from the city? *sobs* I'm sorry! It's an AU story! Forgive me! Speaking of plotholes, though, what of your chapter??
Holly Wood: I'm sorry! I can't get enough cliffhangers, I'm an addict! I'm so pleased I kept you on the edge, least it shows I'm achieving some sort of emotion. But don't worry! I promise not to leave it on a cliffhanger today. :-)
CStini: Oh, don't fret about that. I don't mind. The reviews are a bonus to the joy of writing! :-P I won't let the Ring torture Frodo for more than a few paragraphs more, honest! Sam will be there for him!
Irish Flying Fish: Wicked name! Thanks so much for the review and yes, I will attempt Sam's rescue for Frodo. He's such a sweetheart. Really pleased you're enjoying Garden of the Moon- your comments make it all worthwhile.
~ Chapter Thirteen ~
If anything would be remembered from this story, it would Sam's utter devotion to his master. He knew that the Ring had sung Frodo to sleep and soon that Nazgûl would swoop down out of the smoke and end it all. Middle- Earth would be over. What Sam did not know is whether he would be in time. But, of course, being Sam, he did not stop to think any of that. At Gollum's first cry he was running. Down the slopes of rubble, through the skeletons of houses, right up to the riverside. But he could go no further. Both the bridges were burning.
--
Frodo walked up the steps one after another, concentrating his whole mind on the path ahead.
*Yes, precious, nearly there. We're close now.*
He closed his fingers tightly round the gold band and took another step. Then he faltered. What was wrong? Someone was calling him.
*No! Forget them! Go on! Must go on!*
"Yes, precious," Frodo slurred. He could feel the wall beneath him shake and there was the heat of flames on his skin. His cloak billowed round him in the gathering smoke, fluttered against his arms in weak protest of his movement. But the precious had told him to go. That was his duty. Soon it would all be over, the precious said, and he would be at home. Back at Bag End, yes, yes.
"Master!"
It broke his train of thought and Frodo shook himself. The precious was still speaking- urging him towards the summit of the wall. He looked up to the boiling black sky. The clouds and smog were forming strange patterns, as if caught in an updraft of air. Another step. Only a few more. Why was this such a force of will? Frodo stopped a moment, brow furrowing, trying to block out the insistent calling. It was something only Sam would do. Foolish Samwise! He would not understand that he was doing the right thing now. The Ring was bringing someone to finish the task. Then he could go home! His feet touched the top of the wall and it seemed to the hobbit that all the world's noise was muffled here. Though wind still slapped at his face, its shrieking and moaning was silenced.
*We are here, precious, the Ring whispered, It is nearly over.*
Frodo turned on legs of stone to overlook the city. The river glinted gold in the growing sunlight. A black reflection was caught fleetingly on its surface, arching its great wings up. Then it was gone again. Then a violent gust of air flew up in Frodo's face, knocking him backwards, forcing the breath from his lungs. He could hear bitter laughter in his ears as he grabbed at the wall's side with his free hand, steadying himself against the blast.
It came. Black as a moonless twilight. Black as the drop of Khazad-Dum. No light penetrated its leathery wings and only the faintest sheen glittered on its long teeth. The dragon reared back, revealing its rider and bringing it face to face with the Ringbearer. The claws opened wide and there was a scream that pierced the folds of Frodo's delirium and brought him back with such force that he was almost hurled from the wall. The jaws opened in a malicious smile. The rider's armoured hand drew so close that Frodo could feel the evil running off it like freezing water.
And then.then.
--
Sopping wet, Sam launched himself up the stairway and along the wall. It took his breath away. Frodo was there, backed against the wall, his hand still closed firmly over the Ring, eyes wide with horror as they took in the monster rising above him, its steel claws a hair's breadth away from his face. Sam leapt, catching his master's hand as he fell and brought them both face down onto the ground. Pain flickered through his body but he did not care. They had to get away before anything happened. The black legs coiled above as the Nazgûl screeched. He was going to dive. Sam closed his eyes and squeezed his master's hand. So close! Grey hands were pulling at his back, dragging him along the walkway.
"Stupid wraith!"
Sam felt Frodo begin tugging backwards, pushing against his firm hold.
"No, Frodo, no!" he screamed as the claws came rushing down. They were like silver flame, racing down into the white parapet and digging down around the hobbits. But something was still pulling them away, determinedly locked onto Sam's arm and dragging him and his master back towards the stairs. Then there was another, far louder echoing wail that rent the air like knives as arrows sped upwards and into the belly of the Nazgûl. The claws tore away as the dragon writhed in its agony, drawing itself higher up into the sky, away from wall. Sam thought he heard Frodo cry out.
"Come back! Please, don't leave me!"
But he cast it from his mind. There was a hissing at his neck and the grey hands again, prodding at his face.
"Stupid wraith not catch fat hobbit yet. Precious is safe. Yes, yes, precious. Almost! Almost! Yes. Sss, but wraith lost the precious this time, eh?"
There was hoarse laughter and Sam looked up into Gollum's withered face. When the creature opened his eyes again, he looked down at Sam and, for the first time in a very long time, he smiled. A real smile. It looked very peculiar on his shrunken face but there was an age when it might have suited him, Sam thought, and after all, he saved my master. That's enough, ain't it?
"Sam?"
The hobbit looked round awkwardly to see Frodo's face beginning to clear. He had released the Ring and it hung now by its chain, seething with rage. But Sam could not care less. He reached forward and brought Frodo gently into his arms. For a moment, his friend did not appear to realise but then he felt the thin fingers dig into his back and a long exhaling breath. At last, they were not alone any more. At long last.
Gollum watched the hobbits embrace with resentment. After all, without him, neither of them would be alive. Stupid hobbits, he thought unhappily. He did not say it aloud though. Instead, he sat back with his arms round his knees and rocked back and forth, watching as Sam drew back and habitually study his master's face and make sure there were no tears. There were none. For some reason, this made Gollum feel, well, glad again. Better having the stupid hobbits together than one without the other.
~
Not quite the end; I've just got to sew up the last few ends and then I'll cut the thread, so to speak. Thank you so much for your comments and critiques, you're all wonderful!