Those of you who have read Larner's AU series, Might have Beens may recall her chapter,
'An Enemy Made.'
In it Frodo senses that they won't reach Rivendell before the Morgul blade reaches his heart.
Rather than become a Wraith he begs Sam to do the unthinkable...

And Sam does.

This drabble deals with the aftermath. I've written it with Larner's blessing
and I'm warning you right now that its very chilling.

Read on if you dare.

The Ringbearer gazed silently down into the ever increasing fury of the sea of lava.
Now that his Purpose had been fulfilled he permitted himself to contemplate the odd
symmetry of it all.

Fire was a force of both creation and destruction. And this, the Sammath Naur,
was truly a place of beginnings and endings.

Volcanoes and deep crevices were windows into the heart of the earth;
Aule’s Great Forge, the Dwarf, Gimli had called it once. It had been from               
the Great Forge that the third greatest of the Valar had brought forth
the lands of Arda so many ages ago.

And it had been here, in this particular forge, the Chamber of Fire, that Aule’s
greatest servant had crafted his greatest and darkest creation. It had been here
that the One Ring had been made… and unmade.

The Ring had been destroyed. The Quest was now fulfilled.

Almost.

There was just one final task to perform.

One loose end to tidy up.

He didn’t have much time; the entire mountain was falling apart. The ground quakes
were becoming more severe by the moment, the fires of Oroduin  were rising rapidly,
spewing showers of rock and flame. He would be consumed if he lingered here.
                              
But no. 

This had to be done correctly.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small skinning knife. The same knife that
had performed a fateful deed, two days from Imladris. The same knife that had
claimed two lives and left behind two corpses.                                            

One corpse had been perfectly ordinary, save for a cursed Morgul
shard that had worked its way to the heart... And a deep slice                                      
on the neck from ear to ear.

The other corpse had not been so ordinary; it hadn't had a mark on it,
but it had been as dead as the first. The most unusual thing about it, however,
had been the fact that even though it was as lifeless as the other; it had
twitched for awhile.

It was now time to put a stop to it.

One shouldn't leave things unfinished, after all. Look at what had happened
when the Valar had thrown Morgoth into the Void, but left his servant, Sauron 
running loose in Middle Earth.

And the result of that particular bit of negligence?

Quite simple; everything that had happened since then...every dark
deed that Sauron had committed, or indrectly caused... had been
as much the Powers fault as the fallen Maia's.

No doubt the Valar could give reasons for leaving Sauron in Middle Earth,
and for sending lakeys to clean up their messes rather than get their 
own hands dirty.

But ultimately it didn't really matter what their reasons were.

They knew what They had done and he knew what he had done.

And still needed to do.

He studied the blade with calm interest.  Yes, things had indeed come full circle.
One corpse had been buried in Imladris; it was now time to bury the other.

The ground quaked ever more violently, nearly knocking him off his feet. The flames
and smoke were increasing by the moment. A shower of rock narrowly missed    
him. He had to be quick.

He stepped closer to the edge and lifted the blade to his throat.

“No!”

A desperate cry entered the Chamber

“Samwise, stop!"

He paused.
 
It was Gandalf.

Gandalf was alive.

Samwise Gamgee would have spun around, overcome with shock, disbelief and joy.

But he was not that person, and all he felt was a twinge of annoyance at the interruption.
 
He wasn’t really surprised that Gandalf had somehow survived. During his time in
Imladris he had studied, listened and had pressed for every scrap of information that
might hold relevancy to his Purpose. In the process he had learned quite a few things
about Gandalf the Grey and the rest of Istari. He had learned things and pieced together others.

And he knew that if anyone could have survived a fight with a Balrog, it would
have been Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey. Gandalf the Wizard.

Gandalf the Maia.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re here, Gandalf,” the Ringbearer
shouted over the roar of the volcano. “You have a way of not coming when
you’re needed and of popping up when you’re not asked. I assume that one
of your eagle friends is at your beck and call again?”

“Samwise…” the Wizard began again.

The Ringbearer turned around. Gandalf was standing behind him at the entrance of the Chamber,
clad in white, more powerful in appearance, but looking years older and face lined with grief and guilt.

“Your memory's failing, Gandalf,”  the Hobbit said calmly. “I've told you before,
that’s not my name.”

The Wizard stepped closer, "It is your name!” he said earnestly. “It’s who you are!
You don’t have to do this!”

“Not only has your memory failed, so has your wisdom apparently. Yours, and the rest
of the, so-called, Wise. You should have known from the beginning that this could only
end one way. You should have realized that from the moment Frodo’s life ended at my hands,
that my path could only lead….to this.”

He paused and looked back downward into the Crack. “Not that I blame you for not
realizing it sooner; I did my best to make sure that none of you suspected. I had no
interest in dealing with childish hysterics. And even less interest in listening to foolish
lectures and useless platitudes." 

The Hobbit spoke thoughtfully, almost to himself. "Its interesting how if one says
certain things, but leaves out a few details, they can make others imagine whatever
they want. And if one has a certain... focus...it’s difficult, but not impossible, to keep
even Elf Lords and Wizards, from poking around in one’s head." 

“Samwise, don’t do this!” Gandalf bellowed. “This isn’t what Frodo would have
wanted! Has your memory failed? You promised Merry and Pippin that you wouldn’t                                               
throw your life away! You promised all of us! Are you going to go back on your word?”

The Ringbearer let down his internal mask. After all his Purpose was fulfilled,
there was no more need to hide his intentions…or his true nature.

And besides, he was partially Gandalf’s creation. Why shouldn’t the Istari get a good look
at his handiwork? See what his actions and lack thereof had partially wrought?

Yes. He would let the Wizard see. He would show him what he truly was.

Just as he had shown that fool, Boromir.

“I already know what you really are, Gandalf, or should I say, Olorin. It’s only fitting                 
that you learn what I really am.”

Slowly he turned around again to face the Istar.

The Maiar looked into the dead Hobbit’s lifeless eyes and gave a soft cry of grief.

“As you can see I’m not breaking any promises,” the Ringbearer said softly.
“And I’m not throwing anything away. One can’t throw away what they don’t
have. And one can’t kill something that’s already dead.”

“Samwise!” Gandalf roared desperately, “there are others who love you!
What of your family? What of Rosie? Are you going to turn your back on                
all of them? Are you going to throw them all away just so you can join Frodo?”

The Ringbearer’s answer chilled the Wizard to the bone.

“I’m not going to join Frodo, Gandalf.  I’m never going to join him: he’s gone where
I can’t follow. And the same goes for Rosie and the Gamgee family; I’m never
going to see any of them again. Not in this life or the next.”

The Wizard was slowly shaking his head back and forth in denial. But the Ringbearer
went on relentlessly.

“Frodo has gone to the same place that they will eventually end up; the Timeless Halls,    
where it’s always light. Even if it were possible for me to go there now, I wouldn’t.
Creatures of Darkness don’t belong in the Light…and the Timeless Halls are no
place for the Damned.”

Once again he pressed the knife against the soft skin of his throat. “There is only
one place for the Damned, old man. And that’s the Abyss.”

“Samwise…!” the Maia whispered, tears streaming down his face. “Don't do this!
Please…Please come back! I beg of you…" His voice broke.

The Ringbeaer shook his head. “Samwise Gamgee is dead, old man; he has been 
for months. He’s dead and the Powers Themselves couldn’t bring him back. All that
I'm doing is burying his corpse.”

In one swift motion he slit his throat from ear to ear.

Gandalf screamed in horror and grief and raced forward to catch him.

But the Ringbearer, eyes fading, took a slight step back…and fell downwards
into the Crack of Doom.