The End!  Thank you for reading, everyone.  This chapter contains quotes from The Fellowship of the Ring.

WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON

Chapter 13 --- Not Alone

Sam sat up quickly, his heart in his throat. Had Frodo left? Was he gone? He sighed with relief to see his friend standing alone at the River's edge, gazing into the early-morning mist. Everyone else was still asleep. Sam got up and walked to Frodo's side.

"Good morning, Mr. Frodo," he said quietly. He frowned at the sight of Frodo holding Sting in his right hand. "Is everything all right?"

"Morning, Sam. Yes, everything's all right... well, now, that is."

"What do you mean?"

”Sting was glowing a bit a few hours ago. Orcs about, presumably."

Sam gasped and looked across the River, then behind them into the trees. "Which side?"

"I don't know. Aragorn thought it might be a few of them roaming on the eastern shore." Frodo fell silent again.

This was the morning Frodo had to choose, east or west. Sam wished he could take the burden off his friend, but no one could. He had to know.

"Mr. Frodo," he said softly. Frodo turned to face him. "Which side?"

Frodo closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know," he whispered.

*~*~*~*~*

The Ring-bearer is setting out on the quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid... Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall... Elrond's voice, so clear. What did Gandalf say about...?

"Frodo?"

With a start, Frodo realized everyone was looking at him expectantly. Seated in a circle after their morning meal, the time had finally come.

Frodo looked at every face. His Fellowship. Had anyone ever had such friends, such protectors? He shook his head.

"I cannot choose yet. Let me be alone for an hour." He sighed. "I cannot remember the last time I was truly alone."

Sam and Merry exchanged worried glances, but Sam remembered what Merry had said the day before. As long as Frodo didn't get his hands on one of the boats, he couldn't take off east alone. And to head toward Minas Tirith made no sense at all, as far as Sam could see.

"Very well.  An hour, Frodo... no longer." Aragorn said nothing else, although he longed to beg, to plead. Please don't go far. Stay safe.

Sam noted that Frodo chose the path that climbed up the slope, and saw that Boromir was also following Frodo's departure with his eyes. Everyone else looked down, or away, respectful of Frodo's need to be alone. Even Pippin suddenly found a corner of his cloak fascinating to examine.

After some time, Pippin sighed, still looking down.

"Boromir, is Mordor truly as awful as you say?"

"I trust the tales I have heard, little one."

"Oh."

No one said anything else for a long time, each person heavy with his own thoughts.

*~*~*~*~*

Sam was getting uneasy. "Strider," he said, "with respect, sir, Mr. Frodo's been gone a bit longer than an hour, I would say."

"I agree, Sam,” Aragorn said.  “We must call for him."

Everyone sprang to their feet, eager to be the one to find Frodo.

"Wait---!"

With no further thought, Sam immediately dashed up the slope in the direction Frodo had gone. Boromir ran after him, then overtook the hobbit and raced on, his thoughts confused and spinning. After a long climb, he reached a level spot quite high up on the hill, and spotted Frodo across a clearing walking aimlessly among broken statuary. Frodo looked up, startled, as the Man came into view. Boromir stopped, looking at him. Looking past him. The hill commanded a clear view toward the southwest, the wooded, broken landscape between this place and home. Home, Boromir thought. The Ring, I have to----

Just then Sam arrived at the top of the hill, panting for breath. The thoughts of the previous night descended upon Boromir's mind like a black cloud. Surely Frodo will trade the Ring for something... for someone... With no clear thought of what he was doing, or why, Boromir grabbed the hobbit as he raced past, pulling him tightly against him. Before either Sam or Frodo knew what was happening, Boromir had pulled Sam's sword from its sheath and was holding it against the his throat.

"Put your sword on the ground, Frodo," Boromir rasped in a strange, tight voice. "Do it NOW." His left arm was wrapped tightly around Sam's chest and arms, and he could feel Sam's wildly beating heart. He held the small sword steady at the hobbit's throat.

In shock at the sight before him, Frodo reached down with shaking hands and pulled Sting from its sheath. Slowly he bent down, placed it on the grass, and stood up again.

Boromir nodded his head at the broken stump of a pillar several yards away. "Take out the Ring. Put it on that stone and back away." He felt Sam catch his breath in shock.

"Mr. Frodo, no!" Sam cried. "Run, sir!"

Frodo stood still, unable to move. How could this be happening?

Finally he stirred. "Boromir," he whispered, "what are you doing?" He took a step forward. "You know this is wrong. Let Sam go." He took another step. "Don't listen to the Ring, Boromir. You know this is wrong! Boromir, don't listen!"

"Don't make me hurt him, Frodo," Boromir said grimly. Frodo halted, his thoughts spinning.

"Mr. Frodo," Sam whispered, "Please run!"

This isn't Boromir. It can't be. In all his nightmares about the Ring and its fate, Frodo had never imagined anything like this. He was but a sheltered, weary hobbit trying to do what the Wise believed he alone could do. How could he make such a choice as this? He only knew that if Boromir harmed Sam, his Sam, two good people would be lost. Not Sam, no, please no. If he handed over the One Ring to a Man crazed with greed and desperation, all of Middle-earth could be lost. He couldn't give Boromir the Ring. He couldn't lose Sam. He couldn't choose.

Against his will, his hand inched up toward the Ring, Boromir watching him, breathing heavily. The Ring wanted to go with Boromir, Frodo could feel it. It would destroy the Man and the Dark Lord would enslave him. The Shadow spreading, devouring... Sobbing, his eyes never leaving Sam's, Frodo forced his hand away from the Ring, into a deep pocket, fingers curling around the Phial of Galadriel. "A light to you in dark places," she had said. This is darkness, Frodo thought desperately. Help me.

Suddenly Boromir looked past him and gasped. Sam, too, went rigid, his eyes wide. Frodo turned around and saw Sting glowing faintly blue. Even as they looked, the sword grew a bit brighter. Frodo looked around them wildly, and with a cry Boromir released Sam, thrust the small sword into Sam's hand, and pulled out his own.

Boromir stared aghast at Frodo, then at Sam. "What have I done?" he whispered. He felt to be waking from a nightmare. "Sam, I would never... I could never have..." Whirling about and looking back down the hill they had climbed, he could just make out Merry and Pippin barely visible through the trees, still searching for Frodo, unaware of any danger. He turned for one last, desperate look at Frodo and Sam. Sting grew brighter. "Run," he urged hoarsely. With that, he raced down the hill, all thought of the Ring forgotten in his need to warn his little ones.

Frodo raced to where Sam had fallen shakily to the ground. Frodo sank to his knees and flung his arms about his friend for a long moment, both clinging tightly to the other.

"Sam, oh Sam," Frodo whispered, tears still streaming down his face.

"I'm all right," Sam said shakily.

The Ring, Frodo thought wildly, it was the Ring. Who will be next? There was no other choice. He threw himself to his feet, breathing heavily, as all indecision left him.

"I have to go."

Sam looked at him and stood up. "Not alone, sir," he said steadily. "Not without your Sam."

Frodo shook his head, backing away. "You don't understand. I have to go alone. It's certain death, you can't come. You can't!"

To his horror, Sam saw Frodo reaching for the Ring. With a cry, he flung himself forward, toppling Frodo to the ground. Sam grasped both his friend's hands and held them tightly between his own, Frodo staring up at him in shock.

"Mr. Frodo, I'm coming with you. You'll not go alone and that's that. Now let's get away from this place before we're found here." Sam slowly released Frodo's hands and rose to his feet, then held his hand out. In a daze, Frodo grasped his friend's hand and stood up.

"Sam," Frodo whispered. Slowly he took a deep breath and nodded, suddenly relieved beyond measure. "All right, it's plain we were meant to go together." The shadow of a smile touched his lips. "Come, then."

Stopping only to retrieve Sting, with one last look about them they raced down the hill choosing a different direction than Boromir had gone, flitting as silently as only hobbits could through the trees toward the River. Toward Mordor.

** END **

Andrea:  I always try to portray Merry as quick-thinking, intelligent, and always putting the welfare of his companions first.

Anso the Hobbit:  I hope you found the ending absorbing... I tried to think of something that brought us back to canon, but that wasn't completely predictable.

aprilkat:  Thank you so much for your lovely words.  As this was one of my very first stories, I’m so gratified that it held together and told a tale worth reading.  Merry was so overlooked in the films, but such a strategic and intelligent hobbit in the books.

Baggins Babe:  What a truly agonizing decision for Frodo.  I went a bit more "AU" in this chapter, but the result was the same.  Thank you very much for coming along on this journey.

Cuthalion:  That was my first attempt at a hobbity riddle, and I’m relieved it didn’t take Pippin too long to solve it!  Yes, poor Gimli and a missed opportunity to study ancient stonework... but he’ll be getting an opportunity to explore something quite unexpected in my next story.

Dreamflower:  I love how fanfiction can help us fill in the gaps that Professor Tolkien was kind enough to leave us.  And we can all fill them in differently!  What a joy.

French Pony:  Maybe someone will write a fic someday about Gimli re-visiting the Argonath to take a closer look.  What a cute idea.

Frodo Baggins:  I agree that Boromir "lost" himself due to the Ring's corrupting influence.  He definitely redeemed himself at the end, and died as noble a death as was available to him.

Garnet Took:  I’m glad you enjoyed my explanation as to why Merry and Pippin had lembas in their pockets when they were captured; I love thinking about little details like that.  And Boromir’s “ring spell” thoughts (and actions) were indeed unsettling -- and I’m sure as surprising to him as to the others.  What a tragedy.  *sigh*

Gentle Hobbit:  I just can't seem to stop figuring out possible explanations for little things... like lembas in hobbity pockets!

harrowcat:  Yes, I just had to get that lembas in their pockets... just in case they needed it later.  :D

lbilover:  Thank you!  Gimli-hobbit conversations are so rare, I’m going to try to work at least one or two into my next story.

Larner:  I suspect that all the hobbits (not just Bilbo) would have fared equally well in a riddle-game with Gollum.  It seems an art-form (or entertainment) that is in the blood of every hobbit.

Linda Hoyland:  My goodness, "unputdownable" is a lovely compliment!  Thank you.

Mysterious Jedi:  Thank you.

SlightlyTookish:  I do love getting into Pippin’s head (well, all of their heads, actually).  He will think of and say things that no one else would, but which are very insightful and delightful.  I can’t seem to get enough of finding gap-fillers for the Professor’s unanswered questions... such as why Merry and Pippin just happened to have lembas in their pockets when they were captured!

SurgicalSteel:  My first riddle!  I agonized over it, and now appreciate how hard they are to invent.  And yes, poor Boromir; but at the very end, he regained his honor and showed his quality.