On the Slopes of Mount Doom

***Happy Birthday Jane (even though its not your Birthday today). Sorry it took so long to finsish this! Ok so first things first, for those of you who don't know already, I own none of the characters seen in this story, I own none of the places in this story, and I make no money off of any of them. If I did own them I probably wouldn't be sitting here writing this right now. Ok this story is just about Frodo and Sam on the Slopes of mount doom. Its a B-day fic for one of my friends so if you dont like it i dont really care, its for her to like. Its starts out kind of in Frodo's mind, but somehow I switched over to showing it from another POV...youll see what I mean when you read it. Did I get it all? Ok, then on to the story!


My hands grasp blindly at the rough, rocky surface, and my feet dig into the rock wall, pushing me up, urging me forward, but with every knew attempt, every burst of energy I put into it, the Ring grows heavier, pulls me down, drains me, until there is nothing left. I throw myself down onto the cliff ledge, and listen as Sam scrambles up behind me, to come and lay down beside me.

Water. How long was it since our last drink? Our water skins are empty. There is nothing left but the air to fill our mouths, and even if we had water it would not help. The water turns to dust in my mouth and slowly slides down my parched throat, sticking to the sides of it and making me want to choke. The air is better.

Sam. Sam my dear friend. You haveuggluggled so far with me, and even now your urge me up the cliff face, catch me when I would have fallen. You saved me from the orcs, and from Shelob, and you have looked after me this whole journey, you even gave me the last of your water when your throat was clearly parched. But was it all for nothing? Will we ever complete the quest, even now that we are so close? What will become of the others if we don’t, or if we do? Will we even live to see the Shire again?

Frodo had known for a long time, since he had accepted to take the Ring in Rivendel that, even if he did make it to Mount Doom, and the Ring was destroyed, there would be no going back. He would die on the mountain, or in the lands of Mordor trying to get back to the Shire, if he even bothered trying to get back. And he knew that Sam too had at last realised this fate, and accepted it. He had known since Sam had given him the last of the water that day when they were only just coming within the sight of the foot of the mountain.
“I don’t think there’ll be a return journey.” That was what Sam had said. Frodo turned his head over to try and see Sam, but his vision was overrun by the great wheel of fire.

It spun through the darkness, flames licking at the emptiness consuming anything with real shape or form, seeking out him, seeking the Ring around his neck, drawing it to it. Frodo shut his eyes, but the vision did not leave. He would have screamed had his throat not been so parched. There was no escape.

Frodo opened his eyes again. He could still see the wheel of fire burning mercilessly in his eyes, but he could also see the world around him, though it was as if through a light mist. He looked at Sam who was lying next to him, completely exhausted. *My dear Sam. How I wish you did not have to share this fate with me.*

As if hearing his thoughts Sam stirred and sat up, casting a concerned glance at Frodo. Frodo closed his eyes, trapping the picture of Sam’s face in his memory. It se to to make the intensity of the wheel lessen. If this was to be the last thing he saw, the last person, he was glad that it was Samwise. He heard shifting rocks besdie him and felt as Sam lifted his head to place in his lap.

They sat there like that for several minutes, and Frodo could feel Sam’s weary gaze upon him. *Why did the Ring have to torture Sam so?* Sam, the person who deserved it least of all was being destroyed slowly by the Ring, though not in the same way Frodo was. Frodo was being worn down by its burden, tortured by its promises and the wheel, fearing the eye, and the Nazgul that were always drawn to it. But Sam. Sam is tortured by me. What the Ring is doing to me, what it is causing to happen to both of us, he is tortured by the land, and the lack of food and water, he is tortured bye sie sickness, and the lack of greenery here. He is tortured so much. And still he endures it. *My dear Sam, of all the people to be with me here, though I wish you did not have to be, I am git iit is you.*

At length Sam broke the silence.
‘Do you remember the Shire Mr. Frodo?’ He asked quietly. Frodo does not open his eyes. He does not wish too, his eyelids were so heavy with exhaustion, and it felt so good to rest them.
‘It’ll be spring soon, and the orchards will be in blossom.’ Frodo o his his eyes slowly. How could Sam remember such things? Frodo was happy that Sam had such happy memories of a place that the Ring had long driven the memory of such blissful things such as the taste of food, or the ability to picture the Shire from his mind.
‘And the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And the whistle in the summer barely in the lowwer fields, and eatin’ the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of strawberries?’

He did not remember the Shire. He did not even remember most of what had happened on the quest, let alone the taste of strawberries. All that there was to see, to remember was the great wheel of fire that danced menacingly before his eyes. Frodo allows a ragged breath slip past his parched lips.
‘No Sam.’ He say’s quietly, surprised to hear how weak and dry his voice sounds. ‘I can’t recall the taste of food, nor the’ he takes in a slow dry rasp of air. ‘sound of water, nor the... touch of grass. Im’ he lets out a ragged breath, why couldn’t he control his breathing properly ‘naked in the dark. There’s...nothing’ he feels the panic rising in him as the wheel of fire begins to take over his vision again. ‘No veil, between me... and the wheel of fire!’ Frodo sees Sam’s eyes fill with tears before his vision is taken over completely. ‘I can see him with my waking eyes!’

Frodo watches as the wheel becomes gigantic, until there is nothing but fire and darkness, and... a small glint of gold in between it. The Ring! Frodo feels the panic surge through him. It was calling for him, more stronger than e

‘Then let us be rid of it!’ Sam’s voice reaches him through his panic, calling out to him, drawing him back away from the wheel. ‘Once and for all!’ Frodo couldn’t help but wish that it was so easy, but his heart told him that it was not, and would never be, even now that they were here on the very slopes of Mount Doom. A shadow hovered over his heart, a warning of some kind, of something soon to come, but what that something was, he did not know. ‘Come on Mr. Frodo! I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you!’ With that said Sam suddenly stood up, and, grabbing hold of Frodo and slinging him over his shoulders, he began to climb up the rocky slopes, stumbling a little at first, but his steps slowly began to grow in strength and measure. And also with weariness.

Frodo was surprised when he heard Sam speak.
‘Look Mr. Frodo, a cave.’ Frodo had looked up wearily to see a great towering doorway in the mountains side towering over them with an obvious malice, and Frodo could barely conceal the shudder that ran threw him, he would not make Sam‘s burden any greater than it already was.

*Sam, I thank you for your kindness.* Frodo thought quietly, closing his eyes, giving up the fight to keep them open. *You have stayed with me till the very end, and even now you carry me. But my dear Sam, you are to weary to be doing this, I can feel in in the way your body trembles, in the way your legs shake, and your feet slip over the rocks, and--*

But the thought remained unfinished. They had barely made it more than a few feet when suddenly a voice reached them. A cruel hating voice. A familiar voice.
‘Clever hobbits to climb so high!’ Frodo felt Sam nearly topple over as Gollum landed on his back, scratching him, pulling him, tearing him until at last he managed to topple him off of Sam, causing Sam to fly forwards and apparently, judging by the loud crack that filled the air, smack his head on a rock.

The next thing Frodo felt was a considerable amount of pain in his back as he fell, with some great grey mass that he took to be Gollum on top of him, and began to Roll down the slopes, though only getting to a nearby ledge before stopping.

He felt Gollum sitting up on top of him, hissing with hate an malice. He felt as those cclamclammy fingers closed around his neck, pushing, strangling, cutting off much needed air. It had been hard enough to breath before, but now it was nearly impossible. Frodo sucked in the little air he could before his ability to breathe was cut off completely. darkness began to creep around the edges of his mind. *No!* His mind screamed. *No, we were so close! This can’t be the end!* His heart seemed to tell him that it wasn’t, but his mind told him to let go, and it allowed the darkness to creep further around him, though his heart still fought hard against it. his hands grasped blindly at the wrists that were connected to the hands around his throat, but Gollum would not loosen his grip, not when he was this throat. Time seemed to slow, and Frodo thought back over how many times during the quest he and Gollum had fought. There was when they first captured the creature, Gollum had then refused to talk to him when they were captured by Faramirs men, there was in Shelob’s lair, though that was not exactly a fight, and there was outside her lair when he had thrown Gollum into the pit. And there was now. But this time Gollum would win.

Frodo was terribly surprised when he felt air passing through his throat into his burning lungs and up to his oxygen lacking brain. The hands around his throat had disappeared, and the weight atop him was gone. He choked and desperately sucked in some fresh air as the ability to think straight slowly came back to him.

He sat up quickly know full well that, whatever had stopped Gollum from choking him would only hold him back for so long. A sudden dread filled him. Had Gollum taken the Ring? Was that why he was no longer choking Frodo? Frodo’s hands immediately flew up to the spot on his chest where the Ring should be, and he was relieved to find it still dangling maliciously there, he relaxed a little. But his relief was short lived.

He heard Sam cry out, and looked over to see Sam struggling with the sinewy form that was Gollum, and that Gollum was, for the second time since their first meeting, biting Sam’s shoulder. Frodo realised that, should Sam fail, Gollum would come again and take the Ring, and he could not risk that. But he hesitated as he stood, what if Sam did need his help?

All of his doubts were soon quashed as Sam threw the wretched creature against a rock, causing Gollum’s head to snap back against it. He could tell by the brief glimpse he got of Sam’s eyes that there was no way that Gollum was going to win this fight, and he immediately stood up and began half running, half scrambling up the side of Mount Doom towards the cave entrance.

Frodo felt the rocks shift beneath his feet, rocks that normally would have caused him to fall to his death, or at least several feet. But now he paid them little heed, occasionally stumbling on their account, so determined and focused was he on reached that cave entrance. He felt the full weight of the Ring begin to bare down upon him. *Oh Elbereth, give me strength enough to fight it, just this once!* He pleaded. Frodo did not feel the weight of the Ring lessen, but did not feel himself grow weary the way he normally did.

‘Frodo!’ Frodo heard the voice echoing up through the mountains. Not the voice of the Ring, but of Sam. Sam had clearly overtaken Gollum, and so Frodo did not take back. Though he had not reacted, he had heard Gollum’s terrible screech of pain and fury a few minutes ago. Frodo felt the ground begin to level slightly as he reached the entrance to the cave door.

He paused to catch his breath, and stare up at the looming cave door above him. Why Sauron had made the door so big, so noticeable was beyond him, if he had made the one Ring he would have made the door as hidden, and hard to get to as possible. He stepped towards the door, and was suddenly thankful that Sauron had not thought of this, as it had been a trial enough to reach the cave door.

Frodo took a deep breath and walked into the doorway, pau pausing to look back. If he had he may have seen Sam scrambling up the slopes some ways behind him, or Gollum creeping slowly up the rocks, watching Sam warily, and glaring at him. But he did not turn back, and did not see these things. He walked forward into the very heart of Mount Doom.

It was not what you would expect from caves, most caves you picture to be dark, so dark it was hard to see your hand in front of your face, damp, cold, and full of rather unpleasant creatures such as snakes, rats, and bats. But this cave was bright, possibly as bright as the sun itself, and just as hot, or so Frodo thought. It was most certainly not damp, and there was no creature that could possibly survive here, not even a dragon. The heat was too intense, the ground to rough and hard, there was no food, and very little ground there. Only the ledge that came in from the cave door.

Frodo felt himself begin to sweat and become drowsy and hot with the intense heat, or maybe it was because of the call of the Ring. Whatever the cause it was making things very hard for Frodo. Strengthening his resolve Frodo walked towards the edge of the cliff, removing the chain from around his neck as he did so, but clutching tight to the Ring unintentionally.

He reached the edge, and found himself starring down into the fiery river that flowed several feet below him. He felt the familiar feeling of his skin beginning to blister, only this time it was from heat, and not from slipping and sliding over rough ground for many hours of the day.

He watched as the lava flowed by, bubbling, hissing, and spitting. He was so caught up in watching it that he nearly jumped out of his skin when a rock broke off from the mountains wall and fell into the river, causing lava to jump up, and hiss at him.

Then he heard it. The Ring. It had been quiet for so long, so intent was it on its task of getting the attention of orcs, or perhaps Sauron. But now, here in the very heart of the mountain in which it was forged it began whispering louder and clearer than it ever had. Whispering of things that it knew Frodo desired, making promises to him. He tried to block out the voice, but it would not leave. It was so loud he almost did not hear it when Sam called out to him.

‘Frodo!’ He turned slowly, staring towards the entrance of the cave which seemed rather dark compared to the edge where he was stag. ‘g. ‘
‘I’m here Sam.’ He said quietly, looking at his friend. He felt the whispers grow slightly more urgent now that Sam was here, but their effectiveness lessened a great deal. He could hardly hear Sam above the roaring of the lava, which seemed to move faster, and burn hotter. He knew that he would not survive much longer in this heat.

‘Destroy it!’ He heard Sam’s voice call to him. His thoughts raced back to when Gandalf had told him the tale of how Isildur had been in this very same position, and had claimed the Ring. Hardening his resolve he held the Ring out, letting it dangle on its chain of the river. He starred at it for a moment, before looking back down at the lava river, the Rings whispers still fresh in his mind, mixing with newly spoken ones.

‘What are you waiting for?’ He heard Sam’s distressed voice reach him. ‘Just let it go!’ Frodo felt these words pierce his heart. He had to do this. If nor thr the Shire, then at least for Sam. Sam had sacrificed so much for him, to bring him here to do this very task, now he could at least do this for Sam.

Frodo glared at the Ring, something close to a smirk playing across his face, and he let his grip begin to loosen on the chain. But suddenly the ring caught a glint of light from the fire below, and Frodo felt his heart pierced with a great loss, pushing Sam to the back of his thoughts. The Ring whispered to him. Telling him things that he suddenly began to believe were true. If he kept the Ring, he could repair all of it’s damage, to him, to Sam, to the world.

Frodo shook his head, trying to clear it. It was a lie. A great lie. This thought in his mind he opened his eyes again, determined to let go of the Ring, but not look at it, knowing it would only start again. He looked instead down at the river of fire. But that proved to be a mistake as well.

The river turned into the wheel of fire suddenly, spinning mercilessly before his eyes, burning itself in place so that he could see nothing else, even once he closed his eyes. It blocked out all thought, save for the Ring, how precious it was, its promises, how it would make everything right. And then Frodo believed it.

He brought the Ring slowly to his chest, leg alg all thought and common sense be washed from his mind as he starred down at it. He turned slowly away from the river, and looked up at the figure standing before him. But what he saw was not Sam. The wheel of fire surrounded what appeared to be a horrid, and disfigured creature, who’s only thought’s were on taking the Ring away from him. Panic began to surge through him. He had to get away from here, find Sam, make everything ok again.

He looked the creature in it’s eyes, and he slowly began to speak.
‘The Ring is mine.’ He said quietly, making sure that the creature heard him. It would not have it. He heard the creature’s distressed wail.
‘No!’ aid.aid. Frodo smirked at it, before yanking the Ring off it’s chain, and putting it on his finger. The world turned to haze, but he could still see the wheel of fire, and the creature quite clearly. He heard the creature wail again, louder this time, mixed in with something else.

Far off he heard it. The terrible piercing shriek of the Nazgul, along with their horrid beasts roars. He had to find Sam fast and use the Ring to make everything right again. He quickly padded towards the cave door, not caring how much noise he made, but moving slow enough so that he would not catch the creatures attention.

He passed by it cautiously. He was about halfway to the cave door when it happened. He heard a loud thump and an odd sound, like Sam’s voice when Faramir’s men had tripped him. Then a great thud. He turned quickly to see the creature had fallen to the ground. Then time seemed to slow.

The creature slowly began to transform back into Sam, its mangled body being replaced by that of his weary gardeners, and Frodo felt joy, and worry surge through him. He had found Sam. But what if this was simply a trick of the creatures?

Frodo did not have time to think about this as he felt, for the second time that day, a great weight atop his back, and a great amount of pain at the back of his neck and shoulders as Gollum began to scratch mercilessly at him. He cried out loudly as he felt Gollum’s hands reach around, scrambling for his hands, which he was using to try and throw the creature off, and to keep it from choking him.

They moved slowly back towards the edge of the cliff as Gollum continued his onslaught, and Frodo continued to try and through him off. But it was it vain. He felt as Gollum grabbed hold of his hand, the one with the Ring on it, and brought it towards him, despite all his struggles to free himself. He felt Gollum uncurl his fingers, and grab hold of the one with the Ring on it, and he felt considerable pain as teeth sank into his flesh.

They sank down deep, cutting into him, drawing blood, and Frodo wanted to scream, but found he couldn’t, all his thoughts were on the Ring that Gollum was going to take now. At least they were until Gollum managed to sink his teeth in further, and cut through the bone.

Frodo screamed as he felt his finger part company with his hand completely, taking the Ring with it. He fell to the ground as the world came back into sharp relief, cradling his hand that now had four fingers, and a stub, shorter than his thumb. White hot pain rushed all through his arm, focusing on the point where his finger had been cut off.

But more potent was the pain in his mind. The Ring was gone. Frodo looked up from the stub that was his finger as these words sunk in. He watched as Gollum jumped up and down, all the while shouting.
‘Precioussss, Preciousss, Preciousss!’ Frodo could see the Ring glinting malevolently between Gollums his finger and thumb. The finger was the very same finger that Gollum had bitten off of his hand.

Rage flowed violently through Frodo and, though he was tired with exhaustion, and his mind felt like it would break in two at any moment, he managed to climb to his feet, and walk slowly towards the wretched creature before him. All thoughts of destroying the Ring quashed, no all he wanted was to kill the creature that had stolen it from him, and reclaim it for himself.

Gollum turned slowly towards him, and their eyes locked, but Frodo did not stop walking. White hot knives flew from one pair of eyes towards the other, trying desperately to pierce each other, but still Frodo moved on. He reached Gollum, and grabbed both of the horrid creatures wrists, and immediately they both began to struggle.

Frodo did not even notice how many times they nearly feel off the edge, so intent was he upon reclaiming the Ring. He fought to get the Ring, and to kill Gollum in the process, and Gollum fought to keep the Ring, and get rid of Frodo once and for all.

Had Frodo not been concentrating so hard on the Ring he might have noticed how stupid it was to be fighting in the very heart of Mount doom, over the Ring of power that he had longed to destroy, when Nazgul are coming after you, and your fighting on a very thin cliff over a river of boiling hot lava. But he did not. He did not notice anything but the Ring.

Until, that is, he pushed Gollum over the edge, but the Creature had hold of him, and him of the creature and so he felt his feet lurch forward, as he too was pulled over the cliff. Frodo’s mind snapped into action, though it still longed for the Ring its survival instinct was strong, and, yanking away from Gollum’s grasp, he reached blindly for something, anything to grab onto.

He managed to catch hold of a protruding rock from the side of the cliff, but when he tried to grab hold of it with both hands, a fresh wave of pain shot threw his right one, and he was forced to dangle with only one hand. Frodo dangled there and listened. He listened to the lava rushing past, listened to the roar of the mountain, listened to Gollum hitting the lava, listened to the sound of rocks moving above him.

All at once Frodo’s mind began to clear. The wheel of fire became nothing more than a hazy ring of smoke in his mind, and the call of the Ring as good as vanished. Which meant that his mind was returning to normal. He realised that he could not climb up. He could only hold on with one hand, and his other he could not use to climb with.

Frodo wondered why he was even bothering to hold on, there would be no escaping once the mountain exploded, and what would he escape too? War? Destruction? Malice? Even if all was peaceful again, he could never go back to the way it was.

Frodo was beginning to let his grip slip from the rock, when Sam’s head popped over the side of the cliff. *Sam!* Sam was a symbol of hope for Frodo, and had been since the day they had met, though Frodo had not realised it then. And suddenly many reasons to hold onto the cliff all the tighter came to his head. The Shire, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Bilbo, Fatty, the tree’s, the stars, all those things that he loved, they would still be there, and he would not die until he saw them at least one more time, or so he wished at least.

But his arm was beginning to tire, and his hand give way. He could not hold on. He gave Sam one weary desperate look before he realised that Sam was now laying down and holding his hand out to him.
‘Give me your hand!’ Sam’s voice calls down to him. Frodo casts him another weary glance, before looking down at his bloody hand.

‘Take my hand!’ Frodo feels his resolve harden (not for the first time) and he roughly thrusts his maimed hand up towards Sam’s, ignoring the pain that shoots through it, which only doubles as Sam grabs hold of it. But Blood is slippery, and so is sweat, and Frodo’s hand slips out of Sam’s and falls limply back down to his side.

*So this is how it ends.* Frodo thinks blankly as the lava begins to move more violently. In his mind he always thought that it would end here, if not sooner, but his heart told him that this was not the end. *Is this not what you were warning me of ?* Frodo asks it. But he already knows that its not. It had been warning him of claiming the Ring.

Fordo looks up at Sam, the desire to let go of the cliff showing clearly in his eyes. But Sam was having none of it.
‘Don’t you let go!’ Sam said to him, tear beginning to fall down his cheeks, he reached his hand out farther.
‘Don’t let go! Reach!’ Frodo obeys at once, using all his strength as he grabs hold of Sam’s hand, and keeps hold, trying to block out the blinding pain in his arm, he holds on as Sam slowly pulls him up the cliff side, and safely onto its base.

But it is not over. Frodo hears great shrieks from outside the cave, the shrieks of the Nazgul, though this time they appeared to be of pain. The lava below begins flying up like geysers, spraying droplets of itself everywhere, nearly hitting himself and Sam. They have to get out of here!

As if reading his thoughts Sam stands up, and pulls Frodo to his feet, and the begins running towards the door, pushing Frodo along with him, when Frodo would have stopped, catching him when he would have fallen, moving him when bits of the mountain would have crushed him. They run like this even once they reach the outside of the cave, the run until they reach a gap in the rocks, in which, half jumping, half being thrown Frodo jumps across, with Sam following close behind. They scramble up the side of the rock as the lava pours out of the cave and begins to surround the rock.

Frodo opens his eyes, standing wearily near the bottom of the rock. But, though he is weary, he is also joyful.
‘It’s gone!’ He says happily to Sam. ‘It’s done!’
‘Yes Mr. Frodo, it’s over now.’ No sooner had Sam spoken this, but a great blast came out of the cave, sending Frodo toppling towards Sam. They quickly scrambled farther up the rock as fresh lava pours out, coming further up the rock.

Frodo and Sam sit side by side on the rock, and Frodo allows his eyes to drift close. Almost to his surprise he finds that the wheel of fire has disappeared completely, leaving only a memory in its wake, as well as the call of the Ring. Now real memories, pleasant memories that Frodo hadn’t been able to find for so long came back to him.

‘I can see the Shire.’ He said, the words sounding to him as if everything was right, everything was as it should be, and that nothing had ever gone wrong, and evil had never existed. He sounded completely at piece, at least to his own ears. ‘The Brandywine river,.... Bag-end,... Gandalf’s fireworks,... the lights in the party tree.’ Frodo named them as they came into view in his head. He remembered that fell day so long ago. To think, just over a day before the new of what the Ring really was had come to him he had been celebrating with the rest of hobbiton, and then mourning over the loss of Bilbo.

‘Rosie Cotton dancing.’ Frodo nearly started when he heard Sam’s voice reach him. He was pulled back to reality, remembering that Sam was there beside him, and they were now at the very end, soon the lava would overflow on the rock, and consume him.

Frodo opened his eyes and looked over at Sam. He looked very sad, and tears were coming to his eyes, though he seemed to be trying to fight them off. ‘She had ribbons in her hair.’ Sam said, seemingly completely unaware of Frodo’s gaze.

Frodo feels a great amount of remorse wash through him, throwing the little tingle of pain that Frodo was still aware of in his hand completely away. It had been his fault that Sam had come all this way and left so much behind, and now Sam would never see any of those things that he loved so much-- the Shire, his Gaffer, the Cottons, the Green Dragon, Bag-ends gardens.

‘If ever I was to marry someone it would have been her.’ Sam said, the tears finally pouring out over his eyes. ‘It would have been her.’ Frodo looked at his sobbing friend mournfully. He got up and moved over next to Sam, putting his hands around his crying friend.

‘I’m glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee.’ Frodo said quietly and comfortingly to his friend, still holding him tightly in his arms. ‘Here at the end of all things.’ And he meant it.

Frodo and Sam lay down on that rock as the lava bubbled and swam past him, inching closer every few minutes. They closed their eyes. Frodo couldn’t help but wonder what was going through Sam’s head right now, knowing that they were about to be engulfed in a river of fiery boiling lava. Frodo couldn’t help but feel guilt as he thought of his friend.

Sam had done everything for him, always been there for him, sacrificed so much for him, looked after him, and never asked for anything more than friendship back. He had always been loyal to him, even once he had claimed the Ring, and now, here at the end of all things, on the slopes of Mount Doom, they would die together.

Frodo was rather surprised when he heard a loud piercing cry. He had seen the Nazgul whither, and the fell beast destroyed in the lava when the Ring was destroyed, and this cry was far more cheerful (though not something that would warm the heart) and much shorter than the Nazguls cry.

He heard a great sound, like the beating wings of a huge flock of birds. And then it happened. He felt his middle lifted up by something sharp, that dug into his back slightly. Three huge something’s actually. And he became aware that he was moving. He opened his eyes slowly to find himself looking up at a great brown eagles body.

Frodo had actually never seen an eagle before, let alone flown with one, but he knew that it must have been an eagle, for there were no birds as big as these in all the lands of Middle-earth. Frodo wondered if this was all a dream as the eagle beat his wings softly. He decided that it must be. He closed his eyes wearily again, wondering what Sam was dreaming about right now, before the darkness took him.

The eagles flapped their giant wings as they flew towards the sunset, the same direction they had come. Gandalf sat atop Gwaihir, very worried of the two hobbits that now lay in the clutches of the eagles. They had been lying as if dead on the rock, and had not even responded when the eagles had picked them up. Gandalf knelt lower to speak to Gwairhir, his words would have been lost on one with hearing any less sharp, but Gwairhir heard him.

‘This one was awake for a few moments Gandalf.’ he said. Gandalf relaxed noticeably, and settled back on the eagle. And the three flew swiftly off towards the great white city, where many were already celebrating the news of victory. Gandalfs only worries now were that the hobbits would ever wake from their slumber. They would have to be tended immediately., or they would never waken.

These thoughts fresh in his mind, Gandalf urged Gwaihir and the others to fly as swiftly as they could to the city of Minas Tirith, casting anxious looks down at the oblivious hobbits all the while.

Frodo on the other hand was in a peaceful sleep, for the first time in ages. He was dreaming of the Shire, Bilbo, the tales Bilbo had told him of the dwarfs, the elves, the eagles. He did not wish to wake up knowing that it would be to burning lava consuming his flesh, and so remained asleep, even long after the eagles had left him in the White city.


***phew Im glad thats done. Took me quite a while to figure out how I was going to write this, and then even longer to write it. I wasn't sure how to end it, so I hope it works alright with the story. Now on to try and get some other work done. Its spring cleaning time for me so I'll probably be coming across plenty of old dusty stories that Ive filed away long ago. Perhaps if I can still make out the words on them I will read through them and see if theres any I wish to put on here, though I doubt anyone here cares. Well Im done for now, cya all another day, hopefully with another story, or an update.