Hopewithin: Hello Olwyen:waves: It's nice to see a long-time reviewer. :hugs Olwyen/Hopewithin: I like your new nick, it's lovely. I'm glad beyond words for your compliments, you relay made me blush.

Ailias Kurai: sir yes sir! Er…probably it's not the update you were waiting for, but…

On Monday morning I'll be leaving for Ireland – I'll be back in August.

What do you think, should I post the whole story (two chapters to go) before leaving?

CHAPTER XXIII: DECISIONS

Frodo ran between the trees and the statues, invisible to any human eye thanks to the One Ring. He ran and he felt like shouting, crying, breaking something…possibly said ring.

When Boromir had raised his voice and caught him by the shoulders, the Hobbit had decided that he had lingered long enough and had put on the Ring, running away before the situation could get even worse.

As he ran through the shadows, he had heard Boromir cry his name and say he was sorry…but he couldn't stop, nor he could go back, even if it was not fear that pushed him onward. He remembered Galadriel's warning and Victoria's face on the Caradhras as she told him to forgive him, that it wasn't his fault…But Frodo did know that.

'Galadriel was right! I cannot go back to the others, I must leave the Fellowship…'

He thought about Torey's face when one day, at the beginning of their journey, she had talked about her father Jeremy Cross. He thought about the light in her eyes at the end of a duel, when Boromir had told Aragorn that she was a good pupil as he caressed her hair. He thought about all the things she had been through, about the pain she'd feel when she discovered what had happen and all the pain the Ring could still give her.

'I must leave, I must stay away from her. If I love her, I must leave!'

He didn't realize that he had used the strong verb "to love" instead of the neuter and pale "to care for" he had resorted to until that very moment.

The Ring Bearer peered up from his hiding place and he thought he saw a tower of black rocks getting closer and closer at incredible speed. The ground rose upwards, higher and higher, carrying him up…And suddenly he found himself right in front of the great blazing eye! The heat of the flames surrounded him and did not let him breathe, the thin pupil stared at him menacingly…He grasped the Ring with his right hand, trying to take it off, and backed away. Suddenly, the ground disappeared under his feet and he started falling, followed by Sauron's gaze…Then, the Ring came off. The tower and the eye disappeared, trees and rocks were real and definite again, not blurred ghosts. He landed heavily on the ground, but he didn't suffer any serious injury since he had fallen from a kind of platform, not from a hundred meters of height. The Hobbit got to his feet slowly, breathing heavily.

"Frodo…"

A voice said his name, startling him. He turned around and saw Aragorn standing a few meters away. "It has…It has almost taken Boromir," Frodo explained.

The Ranger frowned. "Where is the Ring?" he asked, taking a step toward him.

Frodo backed away. "Stay away!"

"Frodo!" Aragorn called as he followed him. "I swore to protect you…"

"Can you protect me from yourself?" The Man, struck by his question, did not answer. Frodo slowly opened his right hand, where he held the Ring. "Would you destroy it?" he asked again.

Aragorn approached slowly. From the Ring came a sort of hiss. Frodo stood still. Isildur's Heir came near and reached for the One Ring, then closed the chosen Ring Bearer's fingers around it as he knelt down in front of him. "I would have gone with you to the end…into the very fires of Mordor." He murmured as he made the Hobbit lay his hand against his chest, then he lowered his own hands.

"I know…"

'As I know that you know what I am about to do…and that you understand…'

"Look after the others. Especially Sam, he will not understand…and keep an eye on Torey, too."

Aragorn threw his eyes open wide and got to his feet quickly. His gaze had caught a certain glow coming from the Hobbit's belt. "Go, Frodo!" He told him as he unsheathed his sword.

The Ring Bearer lowered his eyes on his own weapon, unsheathing it a little from its scabbard: Sting glowed with a blue light, just like in Moria. He raised his gaze on Aragorn.

"Run. Run!" the Man urged him.

Frodo sheathed his sword and ran down the hill. Aragorn came out in the open clearing by the stone building. In front of him was a multitude of horrible, huge monsters armed with swords and sharp shields. On their dark bodies stood out the white hand of Isengard. Aragorn raised his sword in front of his face and kept on advancing toward them. Growling, the fiends attacked.. The Ranger threw himself against them, trying to stop as many as he could.

Sam Gamgee, unaware of what was going on, wandered among the trees, calling out his friend's name. The only answer he got was silence. Suddenly, he heard the clashing of swords. His blood froze in his veins. He started running.

Frodo was running down the hill as fast as he could, followed by the sounds of the fight and the shouts of the Uruk-hais. He could not stop, nor look back. He stumbled and fell, seeing Saruman's creatures behind him and Aragorn who was desperately trying to stop them or at least to slow them down…The Hobbit got to his feet and hid behind a tree. Some Uruks ran ahead without seeing him. But he was seen by his two younger cousins, who had hidden behind a fallen trunk.

"Frodo!" Pippin called him in a low voice. "Hide here, quick! Come on!"

By his side, Merry motioned for him to hurry up and reach them…But Frodo did not move and kept on staring at them.

"What's he doing?" the youngest asked, not understanding his strange behavior.

Frodo shook his head. As he watched his cousin's face and his eyes, Meriadoc Brandybuck suddenly understood everything. "He's leaving…" he murmured almost disbelievingly.

It took Pippin some seconds to fully realize what was happening. "NO!" he shouted, stepping out from their shelter and marching toward his cousin, turning a deaf hear to his best friend's call, who had to follow him if he wanted to stop him.

High upon the hill appeared some Uruks. Merry looked at them, looked at his cousin and then, turning to the brutes, started yelling and waving his arms. "Hey, you, over here!"

"Hey!" Pippin echoed.

They ran away, the beasts at their heels. Frodo watched them go, praying to the Valar to protect his cousins, then he sneaked in the opposite direction. He headed to the lake, leaving everything and everyone behind his shoulders: his friends, his cousins…Victoria. But, as Galadriel had said, to bear a ring of power was to be alone. He kept on running, choking back his tears.

Frodo reached the shore and stopped by the gray boats. He looked at the other bank, covered with woods and hills. The road that would have taken him to Mordor started there. He would have taken it on his own. The faces of his companions came back into his mind and a teardrop escaped from his clear blue eyes, then another followed its trail. He felt the cold circle of the Ring hanging from the chain on the palm of his hand. If only that cursed Ring had never existed, if only it had never come to him…And suddenly, he heard the answer Gandalf had given him the last time had had made a similar wish. "So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you." He could hear it loud and clear, as if his old friend had been by his side repeating it again.

Frodo clenched his fist around the Ring and shoved It into his pocket, pushed a boat into the water and jumped in, then he started rowing toward the opposite shore. That was his road and he would follow it. There was no more time to hesitate.

He heard somebody approaching and then the voice of his faithful gardener. Frodo, no! Sam was shouting. "Frodo! Frodo!"

"No, Sam…" Frodo murmured without turning back.

Sam stood still in the water that reached his knees, then started marching onward. "Go back, Sam," Frodo ordered, trying to look stern and keep his voice from shaking. "I'm going to Mordor alone!"

"Of course you are," he replied firmly. "And I'm coming with you!"

"You can't swim!" Frodo reminded him, but that was not enough to stop the brave – not to say stubborn – Hobbit. Sam kept on going and when the water became too deep, he tried to swim like he had seen Mr. Meriadoc doing a lot of times. "Sam…" Frodo said worriedly, seeing he was having an hard time. The gardener groped and disappeared under the surface. "Sam!" Frodo shouted.

But Sam could not hear him anymore. He struggled to resurface, but his clothes had become heavy as stones, he felt his lungs burning and his strength slowly leaving him…The sunlight had never looked so far away. He heard the sound of an arm cutting through the water, a hand grabbed his wrist and he held tight to it with all his might. A second later, he had reached the surface and his master was half-helping him and half-dragging him on the boat.

"I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. A promise!" Sam said as soon as he managed to get his breath back. "Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee, and I don't mean to. I don't mean to…"

"Oh, Sam…" Frodo whispered, his eyes full of tears as he threw his arms around his neck. After a few moments, they broke the brotherly embrace that had comforted both of them. "Come on," Frodo murmured and Sam nodded, grasping a row.

They started rowing toward the shore. But before he sunk his paddle in the water, in spite of his good intentions, Frodo turned back. 'Vivi is still there, somewhere in the forest…Who knows what she is doing…' He let out a sigh. 'Elbereth Lady of the Stars, protect her and make her be all right.' With a last glance furtively cast over his shoulder, he bid his silent farewell to Victoria Cross of the Lost House of Slytherin.