Hey, y'all... Thanks for all the reviews! *grin* I'm happy you like it so far! And Feckless... I hate to say it, but there's another "evil cliff" at the end of this one too. Hehe. *evil laugh* So, here's the next chapter. Once again, it was very hard to make everything make sense... but I think I've done okay... at least, I HOPE I've done okay... *prays* I have my little Frodo action figure sitting atop my computer as I write. He's my muse. He inspires me. I'm gonna be getting Sammie for Christmas, so then I'll have two little muses. Does that mean my writing will be twice as good? *ponders* I hope so... And I shall now shut up and let you read chapter 3...

Chapter 3: The Choices of Master Samwise

Those last moments seemed to play in slow motion for poor Samwise. He saw the blade rush down to meet his neck, and he felt the horrible pain as it pierced his flesh. Closing his eyes tightly, he waited for his life to end.

But the end did not come. He waited for seconds which seemed to span for an eternity, but the pain in his neck did not end. Nor did the frantic beating of his heart. Sam was still alive; still curled up upon the cold hard stone of Mount Doom. Opening his eyes slowly, Sam looked up at his master hesitantly, almost afraid of what he was going to see. But when he did finally look, he was once again surprised. Frodo was still holding Sting to his neck, but his face was twitching uncontrollably, and his entire body was trembling. He was gasping loudly, and his left hand was at his own throat, shaking like a leaf. Frodo was staring down at Sam, his blue eyes wide and his mouth agape.

"Sam? Sam?!" cried Frodo, suddenly casting Sting to the side and falling to his knees beside his dear friend. He gathered up the sobbing hobbit in his arms and held him tightly, rocking him back and forth as he would a small child who had just awoken from a bad dream. "I didn't mean it, Sam, you must know I didn't... O, Sam-lad, I don't know what came over me... Please, forgive me!"

"Of course I will, Mr. Frodo," sniffed Sam, wiping away his tears with his sleeve, "But..." He paused apprehensively. Sam knew that if he brought up the subject of the Ring again, his master would quickly fall back into his possessive rage. But he could not exactly avoid the subject. They were there, upon the peak of Mount Doom, and the Ring had to be destroyed! There was never a more urgent matter! Sam had to force his dear master to remember this, no matter what the consequences. If it came down to a fight... he would do what he had to do. Sam had borne the Ring for a little while, so he could guess at the torment of Mr. Frodo's mind. He would most likely rather... rather die... if the only other choice was to be under the Ring's power and bring pain unto everyone who loved him. Yes, Sam thought, if Frodo resisted, his only choice would be to take the Ring by force... no matter how much it pained him. He slowly considered how he would remind his poor master of the task, and had just opened his mouth to speak when-

"-Sam?"

Startled, Sam looked into poor Mr. Frodo's sad blue eyes. "Yes, master dear?" he sighed, smiling sadly.

"Would you... would you fetch me my sword, please?"

Sam's suspicion was immediately aroused. "What you be wanting that for, Mr. Frodo?"

His master threw Sam a dark look. "Never you mind. Just bring me Sting... there's a good lad..." He struggled to give his servant a forced smile.

Sam looked at Frodo suspiciously, but went to go get the sword. He didn't want to fight with his master about this when there were much more important matters at hand. The young hobbit picked up Sting and weighed it in his hand. Then a thought came to him unbidden. He could kill Frodo now, and not have to risk the possibility that his master would kill him before he could throw out the Ring. If that happened, the world would certainly fall into ruin. It would be so easy... and it seemed to be the only safe thing to do. But Sam immediately cursed himself. How could he think such a horrific thing?! It was very likely that he would have to hurt or even slay his master before the end of this terrible day, but it would not be now, in cold blood. Sam had never been so ashamed of any of his thoughts before. But the fact that he had even considered the option of killing his poor Mr. Frodo right now made him feel sick.

Sam walked back to his master's side feeling utterly wretched.

"Thank you very much Sam," said Frodo, taking Sting in his hands. He then added wistfully, "You've always been so good to me, my dear Sam."

"Ha." thought Sam, feeling more disgusted of himself by the minute.

"I don't deserve you... your loyalty... your friendship..." Frodo continued, oblivious to his friend's thoughts, "I've caused you so much pain, my poor Samwise..."

"No, no, Mr. Frodo... don't you go sayin' things like that. I would have gone mad if I didn't go with you, and that's a fact."

Frodo just ignored Sam. "It's true... I really don't deserve your kindness. And now the Ring has taken me, and I'm only tormenting you MORE! I deserve DEATH!"

Sam was shocked. His master, who had always been so soft-spoken and mild, was now shouting at the top of his lungs. He watched helplessly as Mr. Frodo took the sword and pointed it as his chest. "NO!" shouted Sam, and he lunged at Frodo, knocking Sting out of his hands. Frodo cried out and grabbed for it, but Sam was too quick. He pinned his wildly protesting master down to the ground with both hands as he kicked Sting over the edge and into the fire. Frodo gave a wild shriek, but he could not move, for Sam was on top of him, restraining him, lest he attempt to leap into the fire himself.

"Mr. Frodo!" he admonished him, as if he was speaking to a mischievous hobbit lad who had stolen apples from the orchard, "How could you do that? You speak about how you wish that I wasn't tormented no more, but if you did that, I would have been miserable for the rest of my days! If you really wished to make me happy, you would throw that miserable piece of metal into the fire! Can't you see that's the only way to set things right? Just throw it away! Please, Mr. Frodo..."

"Never!" cried Frodo with violent hatred, and he leapt up with strength that amazed his servant. And Sam was then forced to do something he never imagined he would do; he fought with his master.

Sam was very careful about what he did; he certainly wanted to avoid Frodo getting hurt at all costs. He desperately tried to hold his master still so he could grab the Ring off of his hand, but Frodo was putting up a better fight than he had expected. Back in the old days, before the Quest, Sam could have easily topped Frodo's strength. And now, Frodo had been terribly weakened by the Ring, and Sam had thought that he would be able to beat his master even more easily. But that was not the case. Sam suspected that the power of the Ring had given his master new strength.

Sam managed to jump on Frodo from behind and get a hold of his arms, but before he could tighten his grip, Frodo spun around, throwing his servant across the ground.

Sam cried out in pain. His back, his neck, and his head all ached terribly, and if he tried to move them, a horrible pain would shoot up and down his spine. As he saw Frodo advancing towards him, Sam played his last trick. As his master went past his legs, he kicked forward with all his might, hitting Frodo ankles with a great force.

Frodo was knocked off of his feet and he screamed. Sam gasped in horror. From his perspective, with his head resting on the rock, he had misjudged Frodo's distance from the edge. But he now saw that his master had been only feet away from the edge... and he had knocked him over it.

Cursing and sobbing, Sam leapt to his feet, ignoring the splitting running down his back. "Mr. Frodo!" he screamed at the top of his lungs as he ran to the edge. Bracing himself for the worst, he peered over. To his relief, Sam saw his master clinging to the rock with his left hand, not even a foot down. He grabbed Frodo's left wrist with both hands, and began pulling him up.

But then he stopped. "Mr. Frodo!" Sam called.

Frodo looked up at his friend with his frightened blue eyes.

"Mr. Frodo, listen to me! Take off the Ring and drop it!"

"No!"

"Mr. Frodo, you must!"

"Shut your mouth, you filthy animal, and pull me up!"

"Please..." Sam begged, tears flowing freely down his round face.

"Never!"

Sam took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Frodo, you must listen to me..."

Silence.

He breathed again, trying desperately to hold back the sobs that were threatening to escape him. "Mr. Frodo... if you don't drop that thing, then I can't pull you up. If- if you don't listen to your Sam, he'll let go. I swear it. The Ring must be destroyed... and if that's the only way that you'll let it happen, sir..." He choked. This was too much. What was he saying? But despite all of his heart's protests, Sam knew this was the only acceptable thing do. "... then I'll do what I must... I- I'll let you fall."

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So... has my muse inspired me or abandoned me? Do tell! I am a review fiend! I wants them, I wants them! Please, be as critical as you want, for I am eager to hear about all my faults. Of course, you don't have to list ALL of them... you'd be writing for, like, a week... Toodles!

~*Nymredil*~