This is an AU, starting up right before the whole, y'know, Mount Doom thing. Right when Gollum attacks Frodo out on the slopes. A very large amount of this is direct quotations from the book. I tried to integrate my writing; constructive critisicm appreciated, especially in that area. I do not own The Lord of the Rings or anything involved therein, except this little plot twist.
Even the wisest cannot see all ends.
'Now!' said Sam. 'At last I can deal with you!' He leaped forward with drawn blade ready for battle. But Gollum did not spring. He fell flat on the ground and whimpered.
'Don't kill us,' he wept. 'Don't hurt us with nassty cruel steel! Let us live, yes, live just a little longer. Lost, lost! We're lost. And when Precious goes we'll die, yes, die into the dust.' He clawed up the ashes of the path with his long fleshless fingers. 'Dusst!' he hissed.
Sam's hand wavered. His mind was hot with wrath and the memory of evil. It would be just to slay this treacharous, murderous creature, just and well deserved; and also it seemed the only safe thing to do. But deep in his heart there was something that restrained him: he could not strike this thing that lay in the dirt, forlorn, ruinous, uttterly wretched. He himself, though only for a little while, had borne the Ring, and now dimly he guessed the agony of Gollum's shriveled mind and body, enslaved by the Ring, unable to find peace or relief in life ever again.
Yet even as his heart told him to spare the life of the miserable creature, Sam's thoughts turned to the memory of treachery. If Gollum was allowed to go, he would follow the Ring, even here at the firey end; Gollum would follow him to the mountain, and after the ending, if there was an ending, Gollum would follow, always watching. Sam could see as if it had already happened the way this horrible being would be there, always, for years maybe, and in the end, would he take revenge on Frodo for destroying the one thing he valued most dearly?
'Oh, curse you, you vile stinking thing!' Sam said. His anger rushed out and he struck Gollum, again and again, till blood was strewn across the ground. Then he turned and raced up the mountain, bitter tears falling for this creature who had truly died many years before.
Sam came to the gaping mouth and peered in. It was dark and hot, and a deep rumbling shook the air. 'Frodo! Master!' he called. For a moment he stood, heart beating with wild fears, and then he plunged in.
At first he could see nothing. He was come to the heart of the realm of Sauron and the forges of his ancient might, greatest in Middle-earth. Fearfully, he took a few uncertain steps in the dark and then all at once there came a flash of red that leaped upward and smote the high black roof. Then Sam saw htat the floor and walls on either side were cloven by a great fissure, out of which the red glare came, now leaping up,now dying down into darkness; and all the while far below there was a rumor and a trouble as of great engines throbbing and labouring.
The light sprang up again, and there on the brink of the chasm, at the very Crack of Doom, stood Frodo, black against the glare, tense, erect, but still as if he had been turned to stone.
'Master!' cried Sam.
Then Frodo stirred and spoke with a clear voice, indeed clearer and more powerful than Sam had ever heard him use, and it rose above the throb and turmoil of Mount Doom, ringing in the roof and walls.
'I have come,' he said. 'But I do not choose now to do what I came to do. I will not do this deed. The Ring is mine!' And suddenly, as he set it on his finger, he vanished from Sam's sight. Sam gasped and cried aloud: 'Frodo! No!'
He saw the sandy path shift in red glare as Frodo came striding towards the exit; and he centered himself to block the way, calling loudly. An invisible presence shoved him roughly aside, and Sam snatched out. He caught hold of Frodo and gripped him tightly. 'Master Frodo! You can't do this!' he said.
'I can,' Frodo said, and Sam shook at the terror and power that voice contained. This was no longer his master, but the foul essence of the Ring which consumed him.
'No!' Sam cried again, and threw Frodo headlong on the ground; and then he was fighting, wrestling with a demonic presence he could not see, an invulnerable opponent that bit and kicked. He slashed out with the sword and blood fell from the air: his Master's blood! 'No!' Sam said, this time to himself; he could not draw sword against Frodo. He stumbled back, and blows rained down upon him. Then he felt the tight hold of a hand against his neck, and began hacking madly with the bright steel.
Suddenly Frodo stood before Sam again, howling in pain; his hand and much of his arm lay severed on the ground, and all sanity was gone from his eyes. He threw himself atop his comrade and gripped the neck, hissing wordless curses. Sam struggled, but Frodo crushed him, breaking the weak bones with his intact elbow. In the last moment, Sam kicked with all the strength left in him, and the torn hand rolled and fell from the edge into the firey pit below.
Frodo screeched and scuttled to catch the falling Ring; but he was too late, and his treasure landed in the flowing flame. There was a roar and a great confusion of noise. Fires leaped up and licked the roof. The throbbing grew to a great tumult, and the Mountain shook. The madness passed from Frodo like clouds blown in great wind; the strain and the fear departed. He fell to his knees and took Sam's head in his hands, and his clear tears left thin clean lines on the soot-blackened face.
'This is the end, Sam Gamgee,' he whispered, as about him walls crumbled and melted and slid, and vast spires of smoke and steam went billowing up unto the heavens, then crashed down and curled atop him like an overwhelming wave. Mount Doom reeled, belching fire, and Frodo did not move.