INTO THE ABYSS

Frodo was barely aware of the conversation around him as he stood on the dark banks and stared as uncles, cousins, and servants of Brandy Hall alike helped pull the drowned, lifeless bodies of his Mum and Da out of the Brandywine River and onto a boat so they could be brought to shore.

He couldn’t breathe; it was as if his entire world had ended. Frodo’s heart was beating so quickly that head felt about to burst with the constant sound of the blood pounding in his ears. The only thing that kept him steady on his feet was the hands of Uncle Rorimac firmly clasped on top of his shoulders. He was cold and felt sick to his stomach. He had never been as frightened before in his life. His parents…

Frodo could stand it no more. In the next moment, he was tearing out of Uncle Rorimac’s grasp and racing down the banks. He had to get a closer look. Perhaps it was a mistake; after all, it was the middle of the night and dark outside… it could be someone else… it had to be... or maybe they were still breathing…

But as Frodo reached the edge and looked down into the abyss that was the cruel Brandywine, he knew there was no hope. Mum and Da both shone ghostly white under the light of the moon. There was no warmth, no life left in their limp bodies. Frodo knew in that moment that he was he could not help his parents. He was a useless bystander as death claimed the lives of those he loved the most. He was all alone.

*******

They had to make haste, had to cross the bridge and get out of this place. First there had been the goblins, but now the Balrog had awoken. They were not safe in Moria.

A cold sweat was on Frodo’s brow as he ran as fast as he could. He must make sure his cousins and Sam were safe. He was fortunate to have so many big folk around; they always looked after all four of the hobbits. However, all was not well. The Balrog was drawing near and would soon capture them unless someone did something.

At first, Gandalf appeared to have defeated the Balrog with all of his great and mysterious powers. But then …

"Gandalf!"

Frodo stood rooted to the spot as he watched Gandalf tumble down, down, down, into the dark abyss from whence there was no return. It was as if all hope had fallen with him. Even with the rest of the fellowship around him, Frodo felt hollow and all alone.

*******

The Ring should have been his! He had fought the battle long and hard before finally succumbing to it powers. He was not going to be denied his prize now at the end!

Although Frodo fought with all of his might, the Ring had given Gollum unnatural strength and will of purpose and Frodo was caught in a desperate fight as Gollum stole the Ring and Frodo’s finger, too.

Frodo fought back, however, and tried to reclaim the Ring for his own, not even paying any attention to whatever Sam was yelling. With one last final effort, Frodo managed to knock Gollum off his feet. But as he watched Gollum fall perilously into the red-hot abyss, Frodo watched helplessly as the precious Ring was also claimed by the fiery river of flame. The ultimate prize had vanished beyond his reach. All that was left was a throbbing pain as he felt his blood rush out from the gap where his finger had been.

He had succumbed to the Ring’s powers and in the end been stripped of everything. Sam spoke to him, but his words held little meaning for Frodo anymore. He was a hollow shell now, a hobbit no more.

As Frodo lay waiting for death upon the rocks surrounded by the fiery river, he mused over what had been his life. He had known some happiness, but his life seemed to be framed by moments where life was thrown over the edge of a mysterious abyss that knew no mercy.

Frodo knew not which had been the hardest to lose. His parents, Gandalf, his very soul … in the end, all had been lost.