Alrighty, people! I'm back, for now. School starts on the 18th, and I'm going to be a junior with two AP classes and drama, so please don't be upset with me if I don't update frequently. Anyay, what I wanted to say was: Do not be mad about this chapter. I debated whether to keep true to the book or to continue with the movie, and I reached a decision. As I've been keeping with the movie script, I decided to stay with that, and my second reasoning here is also that I really would feel awkward trying to write along with Tolkien's work, and so I took the movie scene. Yes, I know this is not in the book, and yes, know this is one of the most heartwrenching and painful scenes to sit through in the entire movie. Please forgive me if you don't like what I've chosen to do, but based on my time frame, I really do much better with a script to follow. Thanx for keeping with me. You all are awesome-and Pippin, I will be excited to see Fangirl Conversion.
(Thank you for the reviews. They make my day. Nothing like finding a positive review on your e-mail in the morning.)
arwenfrodogurl
The harsh winds that fell from the dark slopes of Orodruin tortured the still figures that sought refuge on the Stairs. Whispers hung on the air, dark words that spoke into the secret harbors of their minds. Frodo had fallen where he lay, his wearied body unable to fight any longer. Sam had seen the suspicion in his eyes as he pulled himself over the edge of the steps. Now Sam lay a short distance away, leaning against the unforgiving rock. Steps. More like sheer cliff, that is. He thought in mild disgust. I'll bet that Gollum's up to something-the way he was whispering to Mr. Frodo like that. Sam turned his gaze to look at him, watching for some sign of treachery. His own eyes grew heavy with sleep, and for a moment they closed. Hold up, Samwise! He shook himself at stared again at Gollum. What's your plan, Stinker? I know you're up to something, even if Mr. Frodo doesn't...his eyes closed, and Sam gave in to his exhaustion.
For a moment, the foul winds ceased, and the only sounds were the harsh rasping of Gollum's breath upon the earth. His long fingers had stopped their grasping, searching in sleep for the one thing that had evaded his grasp. Like a spark in the thick of night, two pale blue orbs lit the darkness, turning swiftly to the sleeping hobbit below him. A low hiss of satisfaction escaped his throat as he leapt down from his perch, reaching deep into the bag nearby. He pulled out a thin, leaf-wrapped package, choking on the pervading smell of the Elves. Nasty they was, capturing Gollum and forcing him to follow them. He had escaped, yes, but the stink of them had lingered long after he had gone. And then-the wizard...he hissed again, and his eyes contracted in the dark. Yes, very dangerous...his hand clutched the small wrapping, and slowly, picked off a small piece, crumbling it in his hands. The stink was going to smell on his nice hands, but the hobbits couldn't smell that. The crumbs began to fall, littering the soft green of the cloak clinging so tightly to the sleeping figure. Gollum drew back as Sam stirred, and then turned away, tossing the leaf package and bread into the air, watching them fall away into darkness. He dusted off his hands, still stinking of elf-country.
"Where are you off to?" Sam's voice cut through the air like a knife, and Gollum whirled around. "Sneaking off, are we?" Sam cursed his weakness, knowing the ill their guide was capable of.
Gollum shook his head in astonishment, as if unable to comprehend such an accusal. "Sneaking?" he made a slight noise as if in shock. "Sneaking?! Fat hobbit is always so polite. Sméagol shows them secret ways that nobody else could find and they say sneak." He spat out the word like poison. "Sneak? Very nice friend. Oh yes, my precious, very nice, very-"
Sam cut him short, feeling only slightly ashamed. "All right, all right. You just startled me, that's all." He paused, staring at Gollum's hunched form. "What were you doing?"
Gollum let out a hiss that might have been a laugh. "Sneaking." He half snarled the word at Sam, who turned to Mr. Frodo in disgust.
"Fine. Have it your own way." He retorted, and knelt beside his master. "I'm sorry to wake you, Mr. Frodo, but we have to be moving on."
Frodo's shuddered, unable to discern the blackness before him from his tortured dreams. Gollum. Gollum had been telling him something, and then-the Ring had spoken, whispering promises that his were slowly destroying his resistance. He closed his eyes again, seeking refuge from the darkness that was haunted his dreams and waking thoughts, forever tormenting his mind until all was lost in the endless fires of the Eye.
His voice was quiet and exhausted as he opened his eyes. "It's dark still." He murmured, wondering if his soul would ever find relief.
Sam could scarcely bear to look at Frodo. Each day he bore the marks of the Ring's strain upon his mind, and each day Sam saw the toll it had taken upon him. Soon, it would consume him, and Sam feared that day more than anything he had ever faced.
"It's always dark here." He muttered, staring out at the bleakness before them. In his heart, he heard Frodo's plea. Where there is no light, where can there be hope? Sam thought miserably, and knelt beside his pack. At least they still had the Elven bread. It always helped, even in this foul night that was Mordor, it lightened their spirits, if only for a moment. He searched blindly for it with his hand, and a sudden fear gripped him, and he grasped the bag tightly, his face mirroring his shock. "It's gone! The Elven bread!" his voice held a note of despair. Their last lifeline, their last link to the world beyond this blackness was gone.
Frodo's eyes reflected utter pain, and he stared at Sam. "What? That's all we have left!" he cried, and he stepped unsteadily backward, as if felled by a heavy blow. He breathed heavily, his sufferings and weakness no longer held at bay. Sam was nearly in tears, and suddenly leapt to his feet in rage.
"He took it!" he yelled, and pointed at Gollum in fury. "He must have!"
Gollum stared up at Sam with incomprehension in his pale eyes. "Sméagol? No, no, not poor Sméagol. Sméagol hates nasty elf's bread." He rubbed his head and looked blankly at Sam, who could scarcely contain himself.
"You lying rat!" he shouted, anger and hate for Gollum welling up within him. "What did you do with it?"
Frodo had barely heard the exchange, and he could hardly stand, so great a strain that pressed upon his mind. Vaguely, he heard Sam's accusation, and he turned his eyes upward, focusing on his words. "He doesn't eat it. He can't have taken it." He heard again Gollum's words in his mind, and he stopped in astonishment. "He wants It. He will try to take it from you...Heavy, heavy burden...fat one cannot know...he wants It!" Frodo stumbled backwards as Gollum spoke suddenly.
"What's this?" Frodo stared in shock as the crumbs fell from Sam's jacket. No...it can't be...Gollum dropped down beside him and tugged at his cloak. "Crumbs on his jacketsesss. He took it!" Yes...it was Sam... "He took it! I've seen him! Always stuffing his face when Master is not looking!" No...Frodo stared at Sam. Yes...it's true. Why else have you suffered, barely slept in your dreams. Even he admitted it. "You barely eat," he said-because he takes it himself, not for you. If you fall, that would leave the Ring for him!
Sam saw the doubt in Frodo's eyes then, and lunged at Gollum. "That's a filthy lie! You stinkin' filth face!" he shouted.
Frodo suddenly jerked, as though awakening, and grappled with Sam. "Sam! Stop it!" he forced what little strength he had to reason with his friend. "No, Sam!"
"I'll kill him!" Sam was beyond aid, and he shouted furiously at Frodo.
"No, Sam!" Frodo's grip suddenly weakened, and he dropped to the ground, breathing heavily, his hand seeking the protective touch of the Ring. Whispers spoke to him, and his head fell back against the rock as he gasped for air, fighting the darkness that was enclosing his mind.
"Oh my! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it to go so far!" Sam was instantly apologetic, dropping beside Frodo in his misery. "I was just so, so angry. Here. You just...just rest a bit." He said helplessly, inwardly reproaching himself. As if any rest in the world will heal him, Samwise. You know it's all your fault, letting yourself get stirred up by a wretch like Gollum. And now look, he can't hardly stand, you've seen the way he suffers, 'ardly able to go on at all anymore.
Frodo closed his eyes. He knew Sam hadn't meant anything by it...he was just so weary... "It's all right." He whispered.
Sam bowed his head, his voice breaking. "No, no you're not all right. You're exhausted. It's that Gollum. It's this place. It's that thing around your neck." Frodo's eyes flew open, and the darkness fell away, his hand clutching the Ring as he stared wildly at Sam. "I could help a bit." Sam offered. "I could carry it for awhile." Sam's voice echoed in his head, and Frodo's vision dimmed. "Carry it for awhile...He wants It...I could carry it...He needs it...carry it...wants it...share the load...wants...the load...wants...the load...take It!
"Get away from me!" Frodo pulled the Ring away, away from this traitor who leered and pawed at him with hungry eyes. It had been Sam. It was true- he wanted it, he would keep it for himself...
"I don't want to keep it!" Sam cried out at the change that came over Frodo. "I just want to 'elp!" he fell back at the dark anger that clouded Frodo's eyes. Gollum appeared behind Frodo like a wraith, his voice piercing through Frodo's mind.
"See? See? He wants it for himself!"
Sam charged at Gollum. "Shut up! Go away-get out of here!" he shouted.
Frodo stared at Sam in dawning comprehension, a dark loathing filling his heart as he staggered to his feet. "No, Sam." He had been wrong since the beginning... "It's you..."
Sam choked as tears stung his eyes. "But he's a liar." His voice cracked with hurt as he looked at his beloved master and friend. "He's poisoned you against me."
Frodo felt the darkness descend upon him like a veil as he saw Sam for his true treacherous ways. It had always been him...he had followed for that single purpose, just like Boromir...and all the others...Frodo felt a pang of regret through his anger, which he fiercely pushed away, amidst the pain that tore at his tortured heart. "You can't help me any more."
Tears scalded Sam's cheeks as he looked upon the thing that Frodo had become. The Ring hung from his neck, dangling before Sam's eyes, and for an instant, it burned like a circle of flame. Sam looked up, hardly able to speak through his grief. "You don't mean that."
Frodo's eyes hardened, and he shook his head. "Go home." With those words, he turned, and Sam watched in anguish as his master slowly forced himself to climb up the Stairs. Gollum followed, pausing to stare at Sam with a sinister grin, having achieved his goal-to separate the last remaining defense between himself and the Ring.
He lay there, unable to hide from the pain and the hurt any longer; finally forsaken by his friend he had loved and cared for through all of his sufferings. The bitter wind tore at Sam's unprotected form, and there, alone in the darkness of Mordor, he wept.