Just got back from Aloha-a-go-go land, a.k.a. Hawaii. Quite fun. This is the last day of my vacation, and here I am at the computer. I am a ff.net nerd. I can feel the muscle turning to fat, haha. Oh, and you probably noticed I changed my pen name again. About thatÉ*runs away*
Reviewers for last chapter: Only Julia and MaidenOfImladris. Come on, you can do better than that. All you guys besta be leaving me more reviews next time, or I'll update less frequently than Lomelinde1.
Disclaimer: Still, do not own.
POV change at the * * *
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Chapter 6: Fires
Frodo struggled up the rocks, having long abandoned the path up the mountain. The weight of the Ring around his neck was no longer pulling him downward, but felt almost as if it was trying to push him backwards, away from the hot fire of the mountain. It hindered him significantly, but still he pushed.
He had no sense of how close he was; Sam had been doing most of the climbing. Frodo stumbled through the rocks, falling a few times, but always managing to return to a standing position. He had somehow gotten the strength to stand and walk rather than crawl, but he did not wonder how: he did not think. He only walked.
He felt as if possessed. He did not observe. He did not question. It was as if he had been made into a creature designed to do only one thing: his task, the destruction of the Ring. He must reach his ultimate goal. If not, he would be a failed design: broken, beaten, and ruined. He walked and fell, cutting his legs badly. He rose, and trudged on.
Vaguely he noticed small pieces of ash falling lightly on both sides and in front of him, like gray snow. He was uninterested in this. He was also unconcerned with the heat he had begun to feel on his face; in fact, he hardly felt it. He was almost divided, separated from his body, from all feelings. He could feel the ground beneath his feet, though, and the push of the Ring.
The heat was growing stronger now, though, forcing his skin to feel its burn, forcing his brain to comprehend the fact that he was close to something very hot. The ground beneath his feet became flat, such a tremendous change from what he had been experiencing before that he had no choice but to look up and realize his surroundings.
A gaping entrance in the mountain had come in front of him, somehow, and it was hot and dark. He walked inside, finding himself in a short and unlit tunnel. Although he was unable to see, he walked farther into the tunnel. The intense heat blaring in his face from whatever was ahead seemed to be making him come back to life, waking him up. His eyes widened. The tunnel was short, already ahead he could see the end.
Beyond the end was nothing but red, a red hole in the blackness of the tunnel. Frodo walked toward it; there was nothing else to do. As he came closer, he saw that the walls on either side at the end of the tunnel simply dropped away, forming a dangerous ridge with steep cliffs on either side.
He walked onto the precipice and was blasted with heat from the flames below. The fires of Mount Doom, shifting; rising and falling; molten rock and continuous burning. He walked to the end of the precipice.
This was his destination. The one place he had been striving to get to for months and months. It was at this place that a beam of light would be thrown upon Middle Earth, freeing it of the darkness and evil that had been spreading rapidly across the land. And he was to be that light, that one hope in a world of hopelessness.
Hurriedly he put his hands to the Ring and saw, with confusion, that they were shaking. He did not know what was wrong. He was sweating from the heat and his thoughts were moving slowly. It was time for him to destroy the Ring, complete his mission, his task, complete himself. He was here. It would be easy, yes, it was the end! Yes, he knew it in himself, in his heart, the answer was yes.
But his mind was still working, still trying to push a thought through the heat and thickness of his mind to the front, where he could see it. He felt it rise within him, coming closer, and then it was upon him. One thought that could change everything.
No.
He whispered the thought, the one word, aloud, as if trying to understand it.
What did it mean?
It is your time.
He knew it was his time, he already knew. His time to destroy the Ring. All he had to do was take it off and drop it into the flames, to do what he came here to do.
No.
He was scared that it was beginning to almost make sense.
It is yours.
It was his.
As if it was a voice calling from another world, he heard someone say a word.
"Master!"
Had Sam come? Frodo's thoughts were still sluggish, and his vision was hazy. He thought he spoke, said some words to Sam, but he did not know exactly what he said. He felt it was about the decision he had just made. To keep the Ring.
And he put it on his finger.
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Sam gasped as Frodo disappeared from sight. Before he had even closed his mouth, he was hit forcefully in the back and he dropped to the ground, knocking his head on the stone. All went black.
Ten seconds went by where Sam felt nothing, and then he awoke. His vision was tinged with red, and as he put a hand to his face he felt a great deal of liquidÐblood.
He looked up, though his eyes were burning, and became very confused. There was Gollum, though he had thought he dismissed the sorry creature further down on the mountain. And the beast was fighting with an invisible something, biting and scratching in the usual style of his fights.
Sam realizedÐit was Frodo. He had put on the Ring.
Sam had not the strength to join the fight, though if he had he would not have known what side to join. He knew Frodo was completely in the Ring's power now, but still he felt a need to help him, save him.
Sam heard a loud crunching and snapping sound, and suddenly Frodo was sprawled on the ground, clutching his bleeding hand to his chest. Gollum had Frodo's ringed finger in his grasp and was now jumping, dancing with it held high over his head.
Gollum was ecstatic, shrieking and bouncing tumultuously on the stone floor. Sam knew he would put the Ring on his finger any minute now, and the creature would be lost to them forever, free to cause any chaos and disorder he chose.
And he would have, had he not jumped a little too high and stumbled a little too far.
Gollum lost his footing and found himself at the edge of the precipice. He was tilting backwards, falling, screeching now not with joy but with terror. Sam saw his body disappear from sight over the side of the cliff. With one last cry of "Precious," he fell.
Sam felt the ground below him began to throb and then shake. There was uproarious noise all around him, screeches, rumbles and loud cracks. He lunged at Frodo and picked him up, carrying him out through the tunnel.
As they reached the outside Sam caught a glimpse of the most destruction and turbulence he had seen in his life. The world seemed to be crashing down; towers were disintegrated, the ground cracked in pieces. Everything was falling, breaking, catching fire. And then came a voice to his side.
"Well, this is the end, Sam Gamgee."
Sam's heart leapt at the sound of that voice, finally calm and clear, without pain or anxiety. He turned to Frodo and there he was, battered but alive and well. And he was well, finally himself again, without the strain of the Ring. He looked happy.
And Sam fell to his knees. He felt nothing but joy, pure joy at that moment. They had completed the task, his master was saved, the world might be ending but in his mind, it was nothing. Frodo was himself again. The journey was over.
Sam saw the crippled, bloody hand and cried out. (1)
"Your poor hand! And I have nothing to bind it with, or comfort it," he said. "I would have spared him a whole hand of mine, rather. But he's gone now beyond recall, gone forever."
Frodo half smiled and there was an odd look in his eyes. Sam remembered how he had once cared for Gollum, at one time. When he had almost been cured.
"Yes," Frodo replied. "But do you remember Gandalf's words: Even Gollum must have something yet to do? But for him, Sam, I could not have destroyed the Ring. The Quest would have been in vain, even at the bitter end. So let us forgive him! For the Quest is achieved, and now all is over."
He sat next to Sam, leaning against him, and spoke again.
"I am glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things, Sam."
And Sam felt that way again, that he was home. It was a calm feeling, but at the same time it felt like a fire flickering inside him. He was content, even as the world was crashing down around him. As they began to slip into darkness, Sam spoke two wordsÐor perhaps he did not speak them at all, or only very quietly. He did not know.
"Me, too."
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(1) What follows is basically word-for-word from the books, because I still just don't feel like blatantly changing what it says in the canon. It works.
Chapter over. The story's not over yet, though, don't be sad. Just review! Please? You should take a leaf out of Julia's book. She doesn't even have an account, and SHE always reviews.