Empty tears.
5. Mount Doom.
T: And thus we reach at last the chapter most of you out there have been waiting for. Yes it will be dramatic. Yes it will be large and no the reunion isn't in this chapter. Why? Because I'm mean like that J. Okay moving on, not mine, if it were mine Damrod would be much more evident in cannon. Frodo and Merry's song is `track of words` from the folk band `show of hands`, Sam's song is, as most will know, Pippin's song from the movie version of ROTK which fits very well into this situation. Warnings remain the same.
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It was late afternoon on the sixteenth of March and Sam was sat up on the heights of the Morgai, his eyes fixed on the path before him.
He had travelled ceaselessly once he had recovered from the Ring's test, sparing no thought for food or water and fuelled only by his love for his Master. Yet he was now faced with barren desert between himself and his goal, with nothing for cover but the invisibility offered by the Ring and in this place it would not be cover, but rather a way of assuring that the enemy knew exactly where he was. And aimless all drive to move forwards had fled for the moment at least.
"What would you do, Sir, if you were here I wonder?" He mumbled to himself and almost he could hear a reply of: "The best that I can, Sam" upon the air. And though it was nothing more than simple hopelessness Sam knew, somehow, that it was sound advice, for what else could he do but his best?
Empowered he took a moment to drink a little of his water and consume the smallest of amounts of food before he set out his path in his mind. Evidently the fractured and broken nature of the land to his North made any passage that way near impossible, thus his only choice was to trace back his path through the valley.
He came without incident to the Castle Durthang, from there he followed the watercourse back to its source and re-filling his water bottle he began again on the path.
Simple thoughts entertained his mind as he continued onwards, thoughts of his Master and of the idle discussions they had had while walking the road. He wondered, despite himself, if Frodo would find comfort in him as he was now. For all the simplicity of his stout Hobbit heart had begun to bleed away into the seriousness of his path and he felt now very much unlike himself
Such a weight It had become again upon his mind and he felt weary now beyond the word. Yet he had to fight It, had to continue this path for Frodo's sake, for the Shire's sake, for the sake of Middle Earth and most importantly to prove to himself that he could be more than a simple minded gardener.
The Ring, however, had been stirred; aware somehow that this was the best chance it had of taking this Hobbit just as It had taken the other. This would be great victory, though once achieved It would come again to the hand of its maker and this small achievement would seem as dust to all that It would do in that position. Just a moment more or doubt and It would have him.
Just a moment more.
*
"A part of me walks that path with him. Feels the burden still about my neck." Frodo said as he clutched at the space that until recently the Ring had occupied.
"That is because you have not yet truly relinquished it to him, perhaps you never shall. As to walking the path with him, of course you do, you are bound together after all." Merry remarked, his eyes never lifting from the distant movement of the departing guards.
"I can not say anything for sure in these uncertain times, Merry, but I know Pippin and I assure you that he will do all he can to come back to you."
"Perhaps." Merry replied. Frodo recognised the tone in his Cousin's voice, recognised it and hated it for the changes it ment in Merry's mentality and his future life.
"Merry." He said, the word a hidden enquiry also.
"It is my fault, Frodo, all my fault. Pip is like a brother to me, no more than a brother, and now for my foolhardy need for adventure I will lose him." Merry said, his eyes falling closed as he spoke. "If I had just stayed with him when Wormtongue dropped the Palantír, not let him away from my side then he would not have had to face the enemy alone."
"Would you have refused him his destiny Merry? Through that one event has his life been shaped. It was hard yes, but he has learned from it and grown."
"Yes and it is that wisdom I fear, for what if he decides that he has grown now beyond the need for me?"
"It will never happen." Frodo said as he moved to stand by Merry's side. Something of his Cousin's spirit must have kindled then and as his eyes opened again there was a faint joy within them again.
"I know. It is just that I wish I could be there with him rather than kicking idle around here for the sake of a moments stupid heroism."
"We can not choose the path set out for us, Merry. The best we can do is let fate move as it will and trust that their tracks shall turn them back towards ours." And that was it for the moment, the pair seeking their comfort in the silence just for a second, rather than in the idleness of words.
"How fares the Quest then, Frodo?" Merry enquired suddenly, his wounded arm rising to loop over his Cousin's shoulder.
"It stands at a crossroads, waiting for something to push it either one way or another. The Ring will take this indecision and push it to Its favour, It will find Sam's weakness and turn him mad through it."
"Then we must do as we can to push the Quest our way, to help Sam find the strength of his heart again." And Merry moved a little from Frodo then and once he had cleared his throat began to sing a simple tune seemingly formed together in his sharp mind,
"I lay a track of words before you,
you can walk them for a while,
they might bring some comfort to you,
when you face the final mile,
maybe you'll smile." He paused then, looking to Frodo with a plea clear in his eyes. Frodo nodded and moving back to Merry's side he reached out for his Cousin's hand and allowed his voice to join in the song,
" You can choose a word like shelter,
here's another word like rest,
I'll place words like ` safe haven` on the pass you know best,
and these words will caress.
" I lay a track of words before you,
so let them be your guide,
and lead you to the right turnings when you've lost the way inside,
`cause I know how you've tried.
"I lay a track of words before you,
and every thought that ever stirred,
deep in you heart are quiet hillsides,
and every breeze you've ever heard,
is a silent trail."
*
Whether some divine being was giving him a sign or whether his fragile sensibilities had failed him at last, he could not tell. Yet no matter the cause that was Merry's voice on the wind and if that were not wonder enough for him he could hear Frodo's voice also, ridden with guilt, yet alive. Fixing his eyes on Oroduin's flame he began again his journey, a song whispered now on his breath.
"Home is behind, the world ahead,
and there are many paths to tread,
through shadow, to the edge of night,
until the stars are all alight.
" This dense shadow,
cloud and shade,
all shall fade,
all shall fade." And something in his face softened then and he was again no more than Samwise, son of Hamfast, high out of his depth and lost deep in a burden too large and too complicated for him to bear.
Yet bare it he would, no matter the consequences to himself. Luck would be his only ally now, for this last change had cowed the Ring from him completely and it was only as a faint power now against his neck. Luck he had though, for he had come in his mindless travelling to the very plains of Gorgoroth, the last leg of his journey. It looked all but hopeless until he saw that all the land before him was pocked with small potholes, which would supply him with the cover necessary to continue on towards the mountain unseen by the ever-vigilant Eye.
Three days he moved as such, flitting from hollow to hollow, pressed always by the force of the Eye. Yet he was not yet the focus of that menace for it was now the 19th of March and a great host of men, led by Aragorn, son of Arathorn, was marching towards the Black Gates. But a burden still was the Eye and with both the ever-increasing weight of the Ring and the extra weight of the gear he carried he found his pace reduced almost to a crawl.
And so on the 23rd he made the hard decision to cast away all but Sting and his little box into one of the many fissures that marked the place. The sound of his pans echoing into the distance hurt his heart, for they were not only simple cooking implements, but a little of the Shire to bring light to him even in this shadow. This task done he abandoned all attempt at concealment and headed as straight as he right to the foot of the mountain and to his goal.
Yet where was his goal? Ever on his lonely path he had set his sights on reaching the mountain itself, giving no thoughts to the `cracks of doom`. Shaking his head he mumbled to himself,
"Naught for it but to hope whatever has kept you alive on this path will see that ye are in trouble and give you a guide." And the words were a simple hope to set his heart and steady his nerve now that his end was so close.
And so as he began to climb the thing at last he went only as his hear told him to, inch by painful inch, until he came to an evident path. Pausing to thank whatever it was that was watching over him, he stepped up onto the path and turned to the East.
Here at last he had his first and only glance at the top of the tower of Barad-Dûr and the flash of flame that was the Eye itself. He felt himself freeze at that glance, fearing that he had been seen at last and recognised for what he was and what it was that he carried. Yet after a few moments he realised that the eye was not for the moment focused on him, but turned away to some other distant foe.
Thus satisfied he began to follow the path upwards, discovering quickly that it was not the easier climb that he had expected, but had the fires that had poured forth from the mountain as he had walked his fist steps within Mordor not taken the course they had it might yet have been a more taxing climb.
The path turned sharply westward after a spell and it was here that Gollum decided to spring onto him at last. They fought hard, but Gollum was not what once he had been and his opponent had not only the greater strength, but also the fire of anger to increase that strength two fold. Thus but moments after the attack he threw Gollum from him and gaining his feet he pulled Sting from its scabbard.
"Back, back you filthy thing." He began, the words acting as a way to calm his anger for the moment. "Away from my path! You have killed my Master and by rights I should kill you. But to do as such would not bring him back and thus would do me no good. Yet if you come again between me and this final task I shall cast you myself into the fire." Gollum raised up onto his feet then and pacing backwards a few steps turned and fled away down the path. Recalling his task he gave no more heed to the creature, but instead continued up the path.
*
The path climbed on. Soon it bent again and with a last eastward course passing in a cutting along the face of the cone and came to a dark door in the Mountain's side, the door of the Sammath Naur. Through this he past into heat and darkness and by the light of the inferno made his way to the Crack Of Doom.
Here he took the Ring up into his hand and glancing at it for the briefest of moments said simply,
"For Frodo." Before he cast it into the air. At the moment the Ring left his hand an object slammed into his back and as he fell to the floor his fingers caught the Ring and it too fell onto the floor.
There was a great pain in his head as he rose again to his feet and blood was coursing now from a cut to his temple, yet all this was washed away in the anger of the moment. Drawing Sting he moved towards Gollum unseen, for all the creatures thought and attention was bent now in the object clutched within Its hands. Thus Gollum was defenceless against the strong and fatal blow dealt to him from Sting's blade.
Once assured that the creature was indeed dead he lifted It and the object clutched still within Its hands and cast them down into the fire.
The Mountain burst forth in a torrent of flame and for a moment he considered remaining in that place, to die in the flames and end out his journey that way. Yet something stirred deep in his heart and despite himself he retreated out onto the threshold of the Sammath Naur.
There he viewed the end of Sauron's reign and the ruin of the Nazgûl. Perceiving this his hope filtered back into his heart and he moved down the pathway, his mind thinking on the tales that would be spun about this day.
"The tale of Frodo and the Ring of Doom." He mumbled to himself. There was little belief in his heart that he would hear that tale, but that did not concern him. His Master would live immortal and he…
He would go as far as he could back to the place he had left his Master and perhaps if fate was with him he could lie down and die at Frodo's side.
And even as he thought this he was over come with the heat and the wariness of his limbs and he fell into unknowing darkness.
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T: Okay only one direct quote here I believe, from `the path climbed on` until ` Naur`. Please note that Sam has been hurt in this last section, it is important for later chapters.
Two worries I had here with this chapter. The first as to whether to let Sam kill Gollum while he was defenceless, but after a great deal of thought I've decided to let it ride, Sam's hand being driven here by anger. The second was how Gandalf's prediction that Gollum would have some use before the end would pan out ending the Ring this way. Hopefully I'll cover that in the next few chapters!
Also I hope some of you have noticed that Sam is never actually referred to as such in his little bits. This is because he is not entirely himself while walking through Mordor, clever no?
R+R For the sake of naked Dom…hmmmmmmmmmm.