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Chapter Text

Frodo stood at the very edge of a great chasm and below was an awaiting sea of moving fire that gave Mount Doom life. The birthplace of Sauron’s ring, its siren call stronger than ever as it was now home at last.

He first ran into the jaw’s of the blazing chamber as fast as he could, sprinting across the stone bridge with his hand tightly grasping the ring. Ready to all but throw it as far as he could over the jagged edge the instant he reached it.

And finally complete this quest that had sentenced his body, mind and spirit to suffer immensely. This quest that had claimed lives of his dear Gandalf’s life in the Mines of Moria and Boromir’s at Amon Hen. The quest that drove him away from his loved ones, that isolated him and had put his life in constant danger since forcing him to leave the shelter of the shire it would finally come to end. Now that he thought about it, what did the Shire look like again? Anytime he tried to picture the scenery of his hometown they were cloudy and foggy, when he tried to remember the faces of his loved ones but they too had become blurred.

The ground shook beneath him as Mount Doom roared, startling him out of his daze to refocus on the task in his hand. He was halfway across the bridge, so close. Pulling the chain off his neck as he stepped onto the large surface of the rocky pillar the bridge connected to. Even though he held it in his hand, the ghost of its weight still could be felt around his neck. Since it had been growing heavier by the day as they traveled closer to site of its creation that the elven chain it hung from left a permanent impression of its silver on his skin, rubbed raw with every jostle to the necklace. The heavy weight was a testament to how powerful it had become.

So powerful that he couldn’t resist glancing at his hand and once he saw that golden shine between the gaps of his fingers his sprit slowed to a walk till he came to a stop alongside the edge of the cliff. Cradling it close to his chest as he stared down at it, thinking that since he’s carried it this far and if this was truly the last time he would get to hold it, surely there would be no harm in holding it for a little while longer.

And just like a cruel hunter, the ring worked quickly to dull its prey’s senses so like the many others that once possessed it would fall to its command. Taking advantage of Frodo’s moment of weakness to manipulate the elements within its home domain, willing the smoke from the angry scourging sea below to whirl around the hobbit. Before, Frodo’s ears were filled the sound of Mount Doom’s thunderous breathes as they shook the very earth within its chambers. His skin beginning to feel singed with every exhale and inhale the heat intensified within the chamber.

But now, Frodo’s pain now turned into pleasure as he was eased into false contentment. Though the temperature rose even higher around him, the burning sensation on skin felt more like the warmth from the old fireplace back at Bag End on a cold winter’s night. And the ring’s whispers no longer sounding that of a seducing siren but more of a dear friend talking, soft and gentle like the way his parents use to speak to him when he was young. Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes as he thought about how he couldn’t recall the last time he could remember their voices so clearly.

After the tragic loss of his parents in that boating accident when he was little, he coped with his grief by singing the beautiful lullaby his mother had done for him when he was upset just before he fell asleep. So when he would dream, it would be of him still playing in the backyard of his childhood home, chasing butterflies as his mother picked the ripest of fruit and vegetables from their lush garden while his father fished down by the creek near their home in the hillside.

But as he grew older those dreams and the words to his precious lullaby had faded with time till all he could remember was the melody. It didn’t stop him from humming the gentle tune, secretly hoping that they would visit him one more time in his dreams but they never did until now.

He smiled as his mother’s voice became clear singing his lullaby softly as she always did, he let out a wet laugh as she reminded him of its verses. When she reached the end of the last verse he heard his father’s excited “Frodo my dear boy!” took its place. His greeting for whenever his young son ran out to the dirt road to embrace him after coming back from town.

That’s when he heard another voice this one loud and unwelcome, “Frodo! It’s Sam! Where are you?” No! Please! I’m not ready. He didn’t want this new voice to bring him back to the harsh reality of his surroundings though it happened anyways.

Sam stumbled over the stone bridge trying to keep his feet under him as he made his way through the heated wall of smoke. “Frodo? Frodo! Where are you?” He called out, the moment after he did the smoke that surrounded Frodo dispersed at the interruption of the other Hobbit. Once Frodo’s figure was revealed, Sam let out a sigh of relief seeing the fellow Hobbit already standing at the edge. But when Frodo lifted his head to look over his shoulder, Sam became worried. For his blue eyes appeared clouded over as he answered him. “I’m here Sam!”

Sam came to a stop as he recognized that glazed look it was always worn by their double-crossing guide as he lead them through Mordor, Gollum. Whenever Frodo wore it, the line between friend and foe became blurred this caused the ring-bearer to lash out at anyone who came too close to him and his precious cargo. Which is why Sam choose to remain a good safe distance between him and Frodo just in case the fellow hobbits fell into another trance and got aggressive again.

Sam should have trusted his gut and got rid of that blood thirsty Smeagol when he had the chance. Especially after he heard the horrid creature talking to himself or Smeagol discussing with “Gollum” about how to lead the hobbits to their death, a trap to ensnare them to steal back his precious. But when Sam tried, Sméagol’s deceitful nature had managed to win Frodo’s favor by seducing his gentle heart with lies, taking advantage of his empathy and compassion. And with Frodo’s spirit being worn down from the constant battle with the ring and the great distance traveled during their quest, the fellow hobbit began to question Sam’s loyalty with the whispers Gollum fed him.

Damn him! That blasted creature was to blame for all of this! He thought, If Smeagol hadn’t taken the ring, it’s possible it would have been left alone to stay quiet for another hundred years or picked up by a more suitable being to be entrusted with its destruction. Sam knew it was a selfish wish but how can one not think the same after experiences they’ve had in the past 6 months!

Still, his heart knew there was a reason as to why they had been chosen by fate and why they had made it this far. The doubt in his part in this quest going quiet as he reminded himself the words of comfort he had offered to Frodo in Osgiliath, that there is good in this world that is worth protecting. He heard it in the laughter of his friends, or saw it in the flowers he patiently grew under his kitchen window and in the passing of seasons where even the coldest of night would eventually turn into the warm nights of summer. Yes, fate must known his importance to this quest, even if it was just to remind Frodo of the small things in this life that they treasured so dear.

He only hoped that fate would grant them mercy by ensuring the blow he delivered onto Sméagol using Sting’s sharp elven blade when he attacked them again just as they were nearly at the entrance to the fiery chamber would finally be enough to keep the brute at bay. Too busy licking his wound to chase them into the crack of Mount Doom. Sam stood taller as the anger and frustration that he had been bottling up over the past months finally flowed through him, his body became stiff and his fists clenched tight, chipped fingernails biting into scraped up palms. “Destroy it! Hurry!” Sam shouted.

Frodo looked back down at the ring cradled in his hand. He grabbed the elven chain between his fingers and held the ring out over the edge of the rocky cliff. The light reflected from the awaiting lava below made the ring cast a golden shine, it was almost beautiful. “Go on! Do it! Now!” Sam continued almost begging, “Throw it in the fire!” Yet even with Sam’s encouragement Frodo’s fingers would not release their grip on the chain for all he could do was stare at the shining ring as it whispered to him. And when Frodo still hadn't moved Sam felt the anger he felt briefly begin to bleed out of him as he pleaded. “What are you waiting for?! Just let it go!”

Unbeknownst to Sam, Frodo’s “parents” were filling his ears with their pleas for the ring to be spared. “Oh my dear boy, don’t do it.” His father whispered, “Don’t destroy the One Ring. Don’t you see it has given you it’s blessing! Casting it away would uncover the pain it’s been shielding you from all this time. You won’t survive without it!” But it … my quest is to destroy it, that’s what I’ve traveled all this way for. Trying to explain to his “father.”

But the voices persisted. “The ring will prolong your life just like it did for Bilbo, we can go back to the Shire with you where we will be happy together forever. But if you let it go then we won’t be able to stay with you.”

His mother her usual soft voice now filled with sorrow. “I don’t want to leave my sweet boy’s side, we can’t stand to watch you to be in such torment anymore. Keep the ring Frodo, don’t make yourself suffer anymore than you already have.” He should have dropped the ring knowing that it was just playing a nasty trick on him but his deeply rooted fear of abandonment brought by the trauma of losing his “parents” again especially now at the hand of his doing was… was too much to bear all at once.

“I …I can’t. Sam! I can’t let it go!!” Frodo cried out, terrified at how he no longer had control over his own body. “I won’t lose them again.” Not having to look over at Sam envision his heartbroken face when he revealed that.

He was just about to pull the ring back to him out of harms way- “Did Gandalf’s sacrifice mean nothing then? Is Boromir death in vain? Have all of our sacrifices become meaningless just for you to become another mindless slave to Sauron’s creation!?” Frodo stopped, his body frozen by the harsh words of Sam’s outburst.

Sam felt guilty for having to say such an awful thing but it was his last chance to stop his dear friend becoming another Gollum. Seeing that it worked, he switched to a more firm approach.

“There is nothing good that comes from its existence! I don’t know what it’s promised you but the ring is corrupt Frodo, it lies and deceives! It will only continue to fill your head with empty promises, it doesn’t have the power to bring back the ones we have lost no matter how much it swears to you it can!” Sam shouted.

Mount Doom roared in protest but it couldn’t silence the hobbit. “We can’t save the people we’ve lost but we can protect those who still live! They’re are counting on us! No! They’re relying on you! All of middle earth is depending on your strength to let it go!”

Strength.

Why was this word so vital to him? And why could he still not remember those who preached the importance of it. Frodo tried hard to but his memories of them were murky, their faces overshadowed. Suddenly a deep raspy yet reassuring voice was heard through the pleads of his false parents. “Trust your own strengths.” Gandalf! Another followed; this one a shade deeper, steady and firm yet gentle …. “Remember there is no other creature that could complete this journey and that, my dear Frodo, is a strength only you have.” Aragorn!

“Don’t let our loved ones suffer another vicious cycle of Sauron’s destruction!” A tear slipped from the corner of Sam’s eye before he shut them tightly to yell, “Set yourself free!! Set us all free!!”

Frodo’s grip on the silver chain loosen and with it the fog in his mind lifting some.

Link by link the chain began slipping from his fingers and the farther it descended, the more his memories became clear. He could picture Gandalf’s mischievous grin, Merry and Pippin’s drunken smiles and Aragorn’s gentle blue grey eyes. He could picture them all, he could remember the proud look Boromir held whenever their eyes met. He saw Gimli and Legolas laughing at Gandalf’s stories when they had set up camp for the night.

By the gods did he wish to see his family again. He ached to be reunited with his Ranger, his protector, he wanted to see his gentle smile, hear his deep voice and soft touch. He longed to see his beloved cousins, hear their laughter and faintly recall the taste their delicious cooking. He wanted to hear more tales of Mirkwood from Legolas and the proud history of dwarves of Moria told by Gimli. He wanted to go home.

Frodo was about to let the chain slip completely from his fingers, “Hurry Fro-“ a loud thud cut Sam off before he heard another and a small groan follow it. And when he looked over his shoulder and what he saw made cold fear run through his body.

Gollum was standing over an unconscious Sam, a rock tightly clenched in his long fingers. His skin ghostly pale the only color was from the weeping red wound on his chest. He flashed Frodo a sinister smile before leaping over Sam’s body and charging towards him with a crazed murderous look in his eyes.

Frodo reached for Sting only to grasp nothing but his leather belt. His heart sank when he saw it sheathed on Sam’s hip. And with Gollum getting closer he had no other option but to break the ring off the chain and slip it onto his finger, making Smeagol cry out in frustration when he disappeared.

Smeagol’s large pale blue eyes trying desperately to pierce through the dark smoke rising below, straining his neck to look in all directions for signs of the hobbit. When he found none, he snarled “Nasty hobbitses! Give me back my precious! Rotten thieves you are!”

Frodo tried to sneak past him to get to Sam’s aid and he was almost there, his footprints remaining hidden thanks to Smeagol’s tantrum as he kicked up the ash and dirt around him.

“My precious! My own! It came to me and you stole it from us!” Smeagol yelled, throwing his rock in rage. Watching it’s short journey as it skipped along the ground leaving a trail of disturbed ash behind it.

He smiled wickedly, rising to his usual crouch. We is clever, yes we is. We must wait precious. Wait for the hobbit to move. He snickered before speaking in a teasing sing-song tone, “The rock in pool is nice and cool. So Juicy Sweet.……”

Once he saw Frodo’s footprints appear in the dirt he jumped in that direction, arms open wide. “Now we wish to catch a fish!” When his twisted fingers felt the faint threads of a familiar worn shirt he sank his sharp nails into the hobbit’s arm as he grasped onto it, quickly hauling himself up onto Frodo’s back so the hobbit couldn’t hide himself away again. He now clawed desperately at invisible arms trying to find Frodo’s hands. “Your filthy hands don’t deserve our precious. Filthy hands with filthy fingers thats we’s will bites off!” Fearing for his life Frodo tried to throw Gollum from his back screaming, “No!!! Get off of me!!!”

The pain pulsing at the back of his head made Sam almost have another blackout if it wasn’t for the Frodo’s frighten shouting. He tried to will his limbs to move so he could help his friend but when he opened his eyes immediately the pain moved from the back of his head moved to the back of his eyes. Groaning in agony as he tried to fight back the wave of nausea that came over him. He gagged as he inhaled even more smoke rising from below, attempting to shake the pain away only succeeded in doubling his vision and make his world spin like a top.

Gollum held Frodo’s wrist tightly as he wrestled up to his mouth, his rotting teeth making their appearance as he ran his black tongue over them feeling the dull sharpness they had. Seeing the jagged teeth glisten in the orange light just before they clamped down, tried as he might Frodo couldn’t break free from the grasp on his wrist.

He closed his fist fast to protect his fingers but that didn’t stop Gollum as he sank his nine teeth into his skin, his knuckles took the most damage as they cracked under the pressure of the jaws around them. The scream he let out could have been compared to the ear-piercing howl of the Nazgûl. When he pulled his hand away, Gollum’s teeth caught the rim of the ring pulling it off his finger as his injured hand made its retreat.

When Frodo became visible once again, one could clearly see the gashes and cuts left by long pale crooked fingers on his chest and arms staining his yellowing shirt bright red. He sank to his knees now cradling his bloody hand cradled to his chest as he collapsed onto the ground.

Sméagol held his prize above his head as he looked in awe at the ring, his precious now returned to him. He leaped in celebration. “Yes!! We did it my love!! We have our precious back!!” Frodo looked on with horror, knowing that if Gollum escapes past them Sauron’s darkness would endure and all they have suffered will truly be for naught. He couldn’t let that happen. He will not!

Shakily he rose; fighting against letting blacken edges of his vision take over his sight completely. He stumbled but manage to get his feet under him as he limped toward Sméagol.

Knowing what must be done in order to ensure middle-earth would be rid of Sauron’s power, knowing the sacrifice he would have to make. Remembering the vow Aragorn gave him when the Fellowship was formed; something he held close to his heart by the sincerity in the Ranger's voice, an integrity he couldn't betray now. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. “By my life or death I can protect you, I will.” Frodo said silently before tackling Gollum, both of them going off the edge of the cliff.

“FRODO!!”

Chapter Text

“FRODO!!” Sam screamed as he watched his fellow hobbit tumble over the cliff, fighting to keep Gollum in his arms.

When the nausea had subsided enough for Sam to move, he crawled as fast as he could to the edge. Though it felt like the world had stop spinning around him, his world felt like it had been violently turned upside down having just witnessed his dear friend sacrifice himself. “No. No.” Slowly he peeked over the verge of the rock not ready to see Frodo’s body collide horribly with lava below even as he heard a thud echo from below. “Please no.” Taking a deep breath, he leaned over the rest of the way.

“Frodo?”

“Sam!”

In shock Sam hurriedly got down on his stomach to reach down for Frodo’s hand.

The muscles in his arm burned as he clung to cliff side with one hand. It was a less than a miracle that he managed to grab onto the small slab bulging from the ledge. Because after the pair had gone over the edge, the Gollum began thrashing around in the hobbit’s arms shrieking that his precious was his and his alone.

Although Frodo was determined to not to let him go until the two of them met their fiery end it wasn’t until Gollum elbowed his shoulder, directly onto his Morgul blade wound that sharp pains spread across his chest and down his arm like a wild fire that made him release the horrid creature. The force that Gollum had used to hit Frodo away was enough to push the hobbit back against the cliff and the moment Frodo felt the rough edges of the rocky wall hit his back, he turned and he clung to what he could to stop his descent into the moving river of fire. The sicking thump of Gollum’s body meeting the blazing embrace of the lava underneath him echoing in his own ears just before he saw Sam’s head emerge over the ledge.

“Come on! Reach!” Sam shouted above him knowing that his grip was slipping by the second it was only a matter of time before Frodo fell too. Straining to pull himself up as far as he could to grab Sam’s hand but when he tried to fully extend his arm the pain from both his shoulder and injured hand was absolute torture. Their fingers touched, Just a little bit closer!

He hesitated. 'No. No it couldn’t be', he thought withdrawing his hand some as he listened closely.

“What is it now?!” Questioned Sam, frightened once more by his friend’s hesitation as Frodo looked down at the pool of lava slowly inching up the chamber’s wall.

Voices… Rising up from below.

Through the smoke and ash rising, there he saw it floating almost gracefully upon the lava, was the One Ring still whole. Though Frodo could feel its power fading, its efforts strained trying to delay its demise. Its inscription burning bright, the light reflecting off the golden band. Making it appear as a small shining star nearly lost in the sea of orange around it.

'How can you abandon us to die son?!' His parents screamed angrily inside his head.

'That’s not what’s-!'

'What business do Hobbits have in the world of men besides costing them their lives?'

'I’m sorry Boromir-'

'I trusted you Frodo, yet you failed me. You failed me when you chose to go through the Mines of Moria and you have failed me yet again by slowly succumbing to the ring after all. I thought my death would have encouraged you but I see it has not, how disappointing.'

'Gandalf! I didn’t know! I didn’t mean'-

'Why did we endure so much to protect a naive hobbit that did not know the true value of the contents he carried. Truly should have been entrusted to someone with a will stronger than yours.'

'No Legolas, please I carried it all this way-'

'Given to you was the kingly gift of a Mithril coat and you couldn’t even keep that safe, a waste given to a hobbit who couldn’t cast the ring into the fires of Mordor of his own free will.'

'I was going to Gimli I swear, but its power is too great here-'

'How can we ever sing the great story of Frodo, the Ring-bearer when you almost took the ring for yourself. Our own flesh and blood!'

'We can never return to the Shire to face such embarrassment.'

'Merry! Pippin! I-'

'What makes you so different than Smeagol?' Aragorn sneered.

With every passing second the voices grew softer, but the sting of their words remained. The desired effect the Ring wanted, though it's light dimmer the words it spoke through the various voices of Frodo's loved ones echoed within his mind. Truly an effort of one last pulse of its dark will, almost like a dying siren who’s sining its last seductive song.

Haven’t I given enough?Frodo thought mournfully.

'Have I not sacrificed all of my being to complete the quest for my friends, for my family. Am I that irremediable? Will everyone that I love grow to hate me when they come to realize that I couldn’t let go of the ring? … Would I have been able to let it go if it wasn’t for Sméagol? Truly, what difference separated me from that creature. So desperate to save him that I was willing to shove Sam aside. The one true friend who was willingly to sacrifice everything to accompany me on this quest all because I was growing obsessed with the ring and proving that Sméagol could … somehow be restore to his former self. Because if he could then there was hope for me, that I wasn’t too far gone … but I don’t deserve to come back.'

Frodo’s grip was slipping but he wasn’t fighting it anymore.

'I deserve to burn with the ring. Proper punishment for all my wrongs, ... for causing so many deaths, not having enough strength left in me to let it go, and treating so horribly the one friend who suffered just as much as I have to make it here.'

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare let go!!”

“Sam go. Save yourself-“

“Not like this!”

Frodo lifted his gaze from the rocks infront of him to look up at Sam, who looked scared but determined, desperately trying to reach further down to him.

“Not like this.”

If his friend who has seen and suffered the wrath of the ugliest and darkest part of his fellow hobbit was still willing to extend his hand towards him. What other sign did Frodo need that Sam’s faith in him has never wavered and he, of all folk believed Frodo did not deserve to meet the same fate as Sméagol, who was he to question that.

“Reach!!”

Moved by not only Sam’s faith but his unconditional love, Frodo found a new sense of strength to push through the searing pain as he stretched his hand out towards Sam again. Screaming as fresh blood ran down his arm for the broken bones within his hand cried out when their hands grasped each other.

The ring screeched as its power faded and its metal dissolving into flames, finally devoured by the fires it was forged from. And the part of Sauron’s soul which was embedded within matter dying with it thus triggering the destruction of all things existing within Mordor’s borders including Mount Doom itself.

Sam pulled Frodo up and over the ledge just as the lava had risen halfway up the walls of the chamber and climbing faster as Mount Doom prepared to erupt.

They raced back over the bridge, struggling now more than ever to keep up right for the stone bridge began to crumple beneath their feet. As they ran Sam kept his arm around Frodo; for anytime he stumbled Sam could quickly help him up, trying effortlessly to keep as much distance between their heels and lava that chased them threatening to swallow them whole.

They jumped off the last standing platform of the bridge before it collapsed into flames behind them. As they passed the entry to the chamber is when the earth shook again causing Frodo to trip over his own feet. Sam tugged him forward to keep moving as they stumbled, both looked up in horror as they saw the top of Mount Doom explode by the immense power of its eruption. The moving river of fire that once flowed through its chambers now began to bleed down the mountain’s sides.

Knowing that they didn’t have a moment to waste, Sam pulled Frodo in the direction of the ledge off to the side of the entrance of the chamber. Nearly pushing Frodo to jump the gap between the ledge and the next rock formation, just in time as lava flooded over the path they just took. “Keep going!” Sam shouted. They tried to run further down the mountain, but the loose gravel made it too difficult for them not to trip over themselves as tumble into the sharp edges of the projecting rock formations they were racing between. They wouldn’t reach the bottom this way before the lava caught up to them.

“Over here!” Frodo pointed to a rock cliff slab ahead of them, its ledge large enough to protrude out of reach of manga below as it flowed past them.

They climbed its small peak that was high enough to oversee the collapse of Mordor as it self destructed, a mix of awe and relief in their eyes as they looked on. Seeing that they had stopped the spread of Sauron’s blacken hell; his mutant armies and metal industries from infecting the rest of the lands, trapping them all within its natural border of the small mountain range where here they will rot in the dirt of the dark lord's eternal grave.

“I-It’s gone … It’s done. The ring, it’s truly gone. “

“Yes Frodo, it’s done. It’s over now.”

A small smile graced Frodo’s lips before Mount Doom let out another deep rumble shaking the earth once more, small boulders whistling by as they rain down around their small island and beyond. They stumbled to climb higher before finally sitting down with the reality of the inevitable.

It wasn’t spoken in words but both knew the other saw the deep crack where the ominous black gates once stood, guarding the entrance into Mordor, was so vast that any hope for their rescue were ... crushed.

Frodo leaned against the rock and closed his eyes. Memories of his home, friends and loved ones flowed with ease behind his eyes. “I can see the Shire. All the hills, small valleys and the Brandywine river that ran between them. I can see Bag End, the lights in the party tree and….”

“Watching Gandalf’s magnificent fireworks paint the night sky,” Sam said giving a watery chuckle. “They burst in stars of blue and green, or after thunder golden showers came falling like a rain of flowers.”

“I can remember the Green Dragon. Merry and Pippin dancing on tops of tables singing with mugs of ale in their hands. Their happiness spreading to everyone in the pub causing a great sing-along that would echo through the West Farthing all night till Rosie would kindly usher us out the door to go home.”

“Boromir teaching us how to use our swords, patient and kind while Aragorn encouraged us from the side. Though the training was meant to be done in all seriousness, everyone had a smile even Gimli despite how much he griped we were wasting daylight. Merry and Pippin wrestling Boromir whenever they caught him off guard. I can hear their laughter just as clear as I can see their smiles.”

“When Legolas and Aragorn would sing Elvish songs softly as they kept watch to help us fall asleep, listening them quietly tease one another about who would sing as the lady and who the man. Till Aragorn made the point that Legolas never got dirty like the rest of us and that is a womanly trait.” They both couldn’t hold back the laughter that memory brought remembering very vividly how Legolas would send the deadliest glare to the Ranger but couldn’t argue against it.

“He’s going to make a great and noble king. And together with the Fellowship they’re going to rebuild this world and heal it’s wounds created by Saruman and Sauron.“ Sam said watching as the lava crept up further onto it the rock just a few feet below them knowing that it will eventually engulf them in its burning embrace, “I just wish we could have been there to be a part of it.”

Frodo’s throat becoming tight at the heavy realization that this really is the end for him and Sam, the end in their part of this glorious tale of saving Middle-Earth. “The Shire is saved Sam, the others will see to it that it’s borders and all the hobbits within are are well protected.”

Sam tried to smile at the soothing thought that his friends will take care of the homeland he left behind. His lower lip trembled as he spoke fondly. “Since you’ve regained your memories, do you remember the empty field just across the river at the edge of the east farthing? If I was able to, it would have been there that I would have made it into the most beautiful garden in all of the Shire. One that could have challenged the grace of Rivendell’s. One where I would grow the biggest most tastiest mushrooms and potatoes, that my old gaffer would have been the proudest hobbit in the West Farthing.” Sam couldn’t hold back his sobs as he wept; thinking of all he would be missing, the chance to go back home to his family, the chance to happily grow old with his friends by his side.

Frodo tried to hold back his tears before deciding to let them flow freely, he was too tired to fight the strong feelings that came over him as he sympathized with his dear friend wanting to offer him a comforting thought in their last moments.

“He will be proud of you when he knows what you have done for him, for them all.”

“I- I know, I know. I-… I just wasn’t d-done with this life just yet,” Sam confessed through his tears.

Frodo used the last bit of energy he had to push himself off the rock to sit up and scoot closer to Sam, wrapping his arms around him and resting his forehead against Sam’s temple as tears ran down his own cheeks. “I’m sorry Sam, I’m so sorry.” His voice quivering, “I’m sorry for all the pain you’ve had to go endure to accompany me on this …. “ his voiced cracked at his own confession as the gravity of their situation sank in … “on this suicide mission.”

“It’s all right, Frodo. I made a promise after all.” Smiling weakly and in his best impression of their beloved late wizard he said, “Don’t you leave him Samwise Gamgee.” He sighed, “And I don’t mean to …. Even here at the end of all things.”

As the air around them became hotter and hotter, seeping any if not all energy they had left out of them further forcing them to accept they were doomed, doomed from the beginning and doomed at the end.

“I’m glad to be with you, Sam.” Frodo sniffled, “Here at the end of all things.” Sam smiled sadly “As am I”, the lava inching closer towards them.

Frodo hugged him tighter and Sam did the same because this was to be the end of their story.

As the only living things left in Mordor they huddled together refusing to let go of each other as they cried. Though it was hard to cry when one’s body had very little water left to spare within it still they wept. They wept for themselves, for their friends of who’ve they lost along the way, Gandalf and Boromir, and for the future of peace they won’t get see. And if they were being honest with themselves though they were terrified of what laid beyond this life but it was comforting to know they would be at peace. Because after their long journey; traveling in constant danger, filled much with suffering and for the cost of their ultimate sacrifice, it was the least they earned.

••••••

The rock slab beneath them had grown blistering hot as the air around them. Making it was impossible to fight off sleep in the weaken state they were in, as the very air was being stolen by the rising scorching heat.

Frodo didn't remember when they had fallen asleep, but now he wishes he still was. So his passing would have been without having one last memory of how much pain his body was in. Through the ache in his limbs he realized that Sam was no longer in his arms but he could tell that the other hobbit was still by his side for his hand was still holding his uninjured one.

As he opened his eyes, his mouth filled with the heavy taste of bitterness as tears made their watery descent from his eyes and rolled down his temples as he stared up at the dark ash clouds rising from the top of Mount Doom.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, one he wasn't ready to accept but forced himself to all the same. Forcing himself to accept that he will never get to tell Aragorn he loved him too one last time, and how much torment that would cause the Ranger when the news of his tragic death reached him. If he was somehow still alive. Though his heart told him that the man was, it only caused it more ache that he will never be reunited with him.

Thinking to the last time he spoke to Aragorn was when he had to leave the Fellowship on the western banks of the Anduin. He should have told him then, should have told him the moment after the Ranger said that he loved him in elvish but he hesitated; even as Aragorn told him to run when the Uruk-hai began marching up the hill towards them. He now felt foolish to have believed in the man’s faith that they would be reunited when his task was done for deep down in his heart from the beginning he knew this quest was going to claim his life and now his body heavy with regret at now giving them a proper farewell.

“Gi Melin.” He whispered into the air through chapped lips, hoping that the wind would carry these soft words down the burning mountain side over the toxic waste lands, past the black gates of Mordor to reach Aragorn wherever he was and bring him comfort that in his last moments he thought of him. He let out a sob as he imagined them floating by his ear and continuing to ride the wind to reach his cousins, Gimli and Legoals, and even reach as far as Bilbo in Rivendell.

Hoping that they might even reach Gandalf in Valar, but what did it matter anyways he was going to tell the wizard himself when he and Sam arrived on the white shores. That thought brought a smile to his lips. Because though he will not get to see Aragorn or his cousins again here on middle earth; he knew his soul would wait for them to cross over so they could be reunited in enteral peace without pain or grief. He was going to see Gandalf and Boromir again, and that brought a sense of peace to him with accepting this was his end.

Frodo closed his eyes, the sting of the falling ash irritating and drying out his eyes out more than they already were.

That’s when he heard it, the distinct cry of an eagle.

'Is this how our souls will be carried to white shores? By the eagles?'

He gave Sam's hand a comforting squeeze to assure him that all would be okay soon before feeling large claws gently wrap around his body, gracefully lifting him up into the air, and he had to let Sam's hand slip out from his grip. He heard another strong gust of wind a moment after.

He pondered if they would fly over Gondor giving him a chance to see the white city, Minas Tirth; his thoughts interrupted when the claws around him slowly began to release their loose grip on his body until he felt strong arms replace them, holding him so tight and so close.

He willed his tired eyes to open long enough to look upon this angel that was cradling him so lovingly but their face was blurred by the yellowing sunlight that reflected off their silver armor as they sailed through the sky.

Frodo watched through squinted eyes as the golden veil that shrouded the angel face slowly subdue letting his eyes adjust to only state in disbelief as Aragorn’s face came into view.

Not a word passed between them, too stunned at the other's familiar face but hidden slightly at the new features the other had obtain since their last parting.

'No, it couldn't be.' Frodo thought, 'Has my thirst driven me so mad that I've created this illusion of you to comfort my soul in my last moments of this life before everything fades to white?'

Aragorn was smiling lovingly down at him even as tears fell from his grey eyes that trickled onto Frodo’s own cheeks, their watery descent bringing cool relief to his burning skin as they washed away some of the hot ash on his face.

The hobbit shakily lifted his uninjured hand to touch Aragorn’s cheek, his beard thinner but the sharp prickling of his stubble against Frodo's burned fingers was the only pain he was grateful to feel as it reminded him that he was indeed still alive. And the realization that this was not a cruel dream came like a powerful wave over Frodo, tears once again prickling at the corners of his eyes and the familiar pain of his throat tightening as he tried to speak. “You came.” He croaked out.

Aragorn smile widen, his own hand reach up to firmly press the palm of Frodo's smaller hand against his cheek.

“You called.” He whispered back.

Frodo couldn't bare to wait a moment longer, with small tears of his own trickling down his temples he cried out, “Gi Melin... Gi Melin, Gi Melin, Gi Melin!”

Aragorn let out a wet chuckle as he began placing quick and small kisses all over Frodo’s face as he repeated the elvish words of deep affection back to the hobbit.

Frodo felt his mind racing with questions.'Is Sam okay? Was Sauron’s tower destroyed? Is Gondor saved? Are my cousins still alive? Was Faramir still alive? Where are Legolas and Gimli? How did Boromir die?'

But when he tried to voice them, the faint headache he already had was now a loud painful pulse inside his head accompanied by returning black spots in his vision. He whimpered; his breathing quicken as all the immense effects of the injuries that had been collecting through his journey beginning to unleash their rage on his already worn out body, his injured hand throbbing.

“Ssshh, it’s all right, it’s all right.” Aragorn said while brushing back Frodo's damp curls in a calming manner, knowing the he was in great pain but still wanted his questions answered. “Sauron is defeated and Middle Earth is forever safe from his evil. And all are forever indebted to you, the fellowship is alive Frodo! Gandalf is …” Judging by the glossed over look in Frodo’s eyes he could tell that the last his words would not be heard by the hobbit in his arms as Frodo involuntarily descended into unconsciousness.

He leaned down to press a long kiss to Frodo’s forehead, “It's all right little love, do not try to fight it any longer. I have you now, I have you.” Placing Frodo's uninjured hand over his heart, letting the familiar beat assure the Hobbit he was safe and that his protector was here to watch over him once more.

Frodo tried but couldn’t find the strength to keep his eyes open longer, and Aragorn leaned back in time to see dull baby blue eyes finally close.