Disclaimer: All the characters and settings belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. This story is my way of working out ideas and concepts already present in The Lord of the Rings. This is done for enjoyment, and for sharing, but not for profit.

Author's note: This is my first attempt at posting fanfiction. I have had this idea for some time but have been dithering over whether or not to try to write a story around it. I love Frodo-centred fiction, especially when it is written with care and feeling. I just hope that I may do some justice to this piece. I also hope that readers might want to leave reviews--I can only benefit from constructive criticism from such creative authors as I have seen here.

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Chapter 11: The Choice

Merry poked thoughtfully at the small pile of seedlings closest to him. "Tell me again what this is for?" he asked. "It's too soon for you to start collecting for our journey home, isn't it?"

"It is," said Sam. He carefully rolled another pile of seedlings into a dampened old rag. "Mr. Frodo's suggestion the other day got me thinking."

"Oh? About what?"

"He thought that the healers would let me have some of these to take home. But I wouldn't know how to take care of them -- there is nothing like them in the Shire! But Mr. Beregond said yesterday that his wife knew all about these flowers. And she, meaning his wife that is, said that she'd teach me how best to make them grow."

"That was kind of her!" said Merry. "When are you going to have your first lesson?"

Sam hesitated. "This afternoon. I don't want to be gone in case Mr. Frodo's not busy, but I..."

At that moment, Pippin stuck his head around the door to the house. He was slightly breathless, and he tugged his tunic smooth. The stars and the tree of the livery of the Tower Guard gleamed silver. "Sam, do you have a minute? The King wants to talk to you."

Sam stood up hastily. "Mr. Strider? What would he want with me?"

Pippin shook his head. "I don't know. But he is waiting for you."

Sam looked at him in confusion. "Just me? What about Mr. Merry."

"Just you. Come on, Sam."

The two hobbits left, and the door slammed. Merry put down the plant that he had been holding and brushed his hands clean. "It will be about Frodo, Sam," he said softly to himself.

~ * ~

Aragorn was not, as Sam had expected, in the Hall of Kings. For this, he was rather glad, as the long hall with its high ceiling and gloomy pillars both awed and overwhelmed him. It was too grand for the likes of him, he felt, and so he was relieved to see Aragorn sitting in the courtyard to the front of the Citadel. The green of the grass was rich in the morning sun.

"Thank you, Peregrin. You may go now," Aragorn said.

Pippin obeyed with alacrity, yet Sam could see a hint of reluctance in the hobbit's bearing as he left. Paying it no more mind, Sam looked at Aragorn.

"Pippin said you were wanting to see me, sir."

"Yes. Thank you for coming, Sam, although I fear Pippin brought you here with greater urgency than was needed."

"So, nothing is wrong then, is it, sir?"

Aragorn smiled. "No, nothing is wrong, Sam. But I had you brought here for a purpose. I wish to ask you about your journeys with Frodo, for I want to understand what happened in Mordor."

"Is this about the trial, then?" said Sam warily. "I don't feel right talking about it without Mr. Frodo being here, and that's a fact."

"Sit down, Sam," Aragorn said. Sam sat. "You are quite right to be concerned for your master. But I have reasons for wishing to talk to you privately."

Suddenly Sam's face cleared. "I understand. It would be too hard on Mr. Frodo if he were here. Wouldn't it. You want to spare him from having to listen to your questioning of me. Is that right, sir?"

"That is one of the reasons, yes," the King admitted.

Sam said unhappily, "But won't he feel that not everything is quite fair, going around behind his back and all?"

Aragorn frowned. "I have considered his feelings, Sam. And I promise you that I will give him the choice. However, unless Frodo requests it, I will not expect you to be present."

"Well, all right then," said Sam doubtfully. "Best to get it over with. I trust you, sir, although there are those I wouldn't."

Aragorn looked at him gravely. "Then I will do my best to keep your trust."

Sam got up then and bowed. "Forgive me my impertinence, sir, but, you see, Mr. Frodo needs all my help, and I won't have him hurt by anything you or I might say. Though I will tell you only the truth!" he added hastily. He sat down again, his cheeks red.

"I do not seek to trap you, or Frodo, Samwise," said the King softly. "I would not abuse your loyalty. Frodo wishes me to judge him and I will do so. And fairly -- only thus will I consider all that you have to say."

Sam took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "What was it that you wanted to ask me, then?"

~ * ~

As was done twice before, guards brought Frodo to the Citadel. This time, however, Frodo was refused entrance, for the sentries explained that the King was busy with some sudden affair and could not be disturbed. However, they bid the Ring-bearer to wait in the courtyard until the King Elessar should call for him.

"It will not be long," they said, "and you have no need of extra guard. We shall answer for you." And so the two guards that had brought Frodo hither were excused.

Frodo knelt upon the grassy sward that enclosed the pool and the fountain. Little did he realize that Aragorn and Sam had sat there but a short time ago, and he looked up at the grey dead tree that was above him. He knew the significance of the tree, for Pippin had told him, but as he watched the listless shedding of drops from the dark, down-turned branches, such a symbol seemed no longer to speak for the Kingdom of Gondor. No, not the Kingdom, Frodo thought. Something else.

As he waited, he slowly opened and closed his right hand. He looked at it with distaste, for it seemed to him as if he were not to be allowed to let it lie hidden. He was surrounded by those who felt they must hold it, touch it, force him to use it. Only that young boy with whom he had talked, yesterday, did not seem concerned with it at all. Frodo longed to return to that gentle moment hidden amongst the stones and plants of the garden. He wondered, uneasily, if he had been right to promise another meeting with the lad, for he did not know what lay ahead of him, past the coming judgement. Yet the boy's enthusiasm had been welcome and, in spite of himself, Frodo had desired to see whatever the boy had wanted to show him.

"May I join you?"

Startled, Frodo looked up and saw Gandalf. Without waiting for an answer, the wizard settled down upon the grass, and gazed at Frodo solemnly.

"The Lady Eowyn left the city this morning."

"Yes," Frodo answered. "I was there to see her go."

"It seemed to me that you two understood one another," Gandalf said mildly.

"We did," Frodo admitted. "A friend unlooked for, but now she is gone. The Houses seem empty without her."

Gandalf shifted and resettled. "I thought that I might come and join you for your audience with the King today. That is if you will have me."

Frodo looked at him in surprise. "Why do you ask me? It isn't my choice. Even if it were, I wouldn't say no to you."

Gandalf shook his head gently. "It is your choice. At the very least where I am concerned." He sighed then. "I bear a certain responsibility in starting you out on your adventure, and it seems fitting that I should be with you today. This is the last time the King will hear you, is it not?"

"It is." But Frodo could speak no further, for the guards called for him.

~ * ~

If the King was surprised to see Gandalf enter with Frodo, he made no sign of it. Instead, he walked down the steps of the dais to await them there.

"Before we begin, Frodo," he said. "I would ask you a question."

Frodo stopped and stood still, wondering.

"Although I have told you that you must abide by my methods in this matter," Aragorn said, "I will make one allowance if you desire it."

Puzzled, Frodo waited.

"Sam's witness is also needed."

"Sam..." said Frodo, regretfully. "Of course, it must be so. But it will hurt him -- I know it will -- if he must say anything against me."

"It seemed to me that you would say this, and I share your concern. Indeed I have already questioned him and am content that I know as much as is needed. And so I will give you the choice. I could have him brought here and he could be questioned in front of you, or you may accept my account of his words."

Frodo seized upon Aragorn's offer. "Your account! He would not have to endure being questioned under my scrutiny. He could not bear to be put under such pressure."

"If you are content to not be witness to that which was spoken, then I will do as you ask."

"I am content."

Aragorn turned then, mounted the steps and sat. Gandalf moved to the side.

"Have you, Frodo, thought over our words of yesterday as I charged you?"

"I have."

"Do you then have anything further that could be brought to bear on the matter?"

"Only this one thing," Frodo answered, "that I was entrusted with the Ring and the Quest. You said that you believe I was the one most suitable for the task. Yet I failed. I was the best choice, according to you, and I failed. I knew that the Ring was not mine and that I had no right to claim it, even up to the point of Ithilien. Yet I still took it for my own purposes. I cannot see that I am anything but guilty."

"Those," said Aragorn softly, "who entrusted you with the Quest understood the overwhelming difficulty of the task; that it was most probably beyond your ability to carry out."

"If they had felt that it was beyond my ability to carry out, why did they, why did you let me be burdened with it?"

"We let you take on the Quest for among all the evil choices it was the one that offered the only hope. You were there, Frodo. You knew, as well as we did, that it was truly our only choice. And while I say that we suspected it would be beyond your ability to finish the deed, we knew for certain that it would be impossible for all others to attempt it."

Frodo shook his head. "An evil choice among others."

Aragorn frowned. "All choices were evil, Frodo. You cannot claim any especial ownership for yourself. Enough. We have already talked of this and it serves no purpose to revisit it."

The King regarded Frodo then and did not say a word. Although the Ring-bearer flushed beneath the gaze, he did not look away. Long did they hold each other in their regard, but if either could read the other's thoughts, they did not show it. The King's face was impassive, but the Ring-bearer's was not. Whatever his thoughts may have been, his emotions were manifest in the very set of his mouth, and the angle of his brows.

At last, Aragorn spoke. "The choice was made. But do you recall your own words when you made your vow? You pledged only to take the Ring to Mount Doom. You did not promise to destroy it. 'I will take the Ring,' you said, 'though I do not know the way.' Do you remember this?"

"I remember it," Frodo said. His voice was low and tight. "But such words do not serve to excuse me. The mission was to destroy it. To cast it into the fires of Mt. Doom. May I remind you of Lord Elrond's words: 'We must send the Ring to the Fire.' Why was the Fellowship formed if not for that very purpose? Upon me alone was any charge laid, Elrond said. Companions were given to help me, but not to relieve me of my burden."

Frodo looked away then, and strode about for a moment, for he was too agitated to be still. At last he faced Aragorn again. "By leaving the Fellowship at the feet of Amon Hen, I renewed my commitment to destroy the Ring. I was the only one left. Even though Sam chose to come with me, his own promise was to help me. We both knew that that was his only role. He had no further responsibility while I was still alive."

Aragorn leaned forward then, and laid his hands upon his knees. "Then let us talk of responsibility. Let us return to the path about which we spoke yesterday. Up to the very borders of Mordor did you intend to destroy the Ring. Faramir said it. What of Mordor, then. What was your intent? How did your journey unfold?"

"I cannot remember!" said Frodo, anguished. "I cannot show you this path. Last night I thought and thought until I felt I would go mad."

"Be at ease, Frodo! I understand your trouble and thought that you might say this. So, then, let the voice of Sam speak for you!"

Frodo's shoulders slumped a little then, and he nodded wearily. "Please," he said.

"Samwise," the King said, "gave great importance to these words, and was particular in their phrasing. 'I have to go on trying to get to the Mountain, as long as I can move.' You said those words after you were delivered from the Orcs in Cirith Ungol. He firmly declared that it was your intent to destroy it, and that you had that intent even to the slopes of Mt. Doom."

"Even to the slopes of Mount Doom," Frodo said softly. "That long, was it?"

Aragorn looked at him sharply. "You remember, then, what happened?"

Frodo shook his head. "Details? What I said? No, I do not. But there is more than words and details... and timing... to a memory."

"Sam," Aragorn continued carefully, "also feared that you had given up hope completely. Nevertheless, you did not sway in your resolve during the journey itself." He paused. "Do you wish to deny his words?"

"No," Frodo whispered. "I do not."

"Do your memories, such as they are, help you understand what intent you had on your journey to Mount Doom?"

Frodo looked at Aragorn in dread. "Do not ask me to tell you of them," he said, and his hands clenched at his sides.

"I would not ask you, Ring-bearer, if I felt that your account was unneeded. But now we have come to the Sammath Naur itself. Are you prepared to talk of this?"

"If I must."

"Did you truly expect that you'd be able to throw the Ring into the Fire?"

Frodo stood silent, as if taken aback by the simplicity, and bluntness, of the question. His gaze became distant.

Aragorn watched him closely and spoke with great deliberation. "If answering what I ask of you proves to be too great a task, Frodo, I charge you to say 'nay, we shall not speak of this,' and we will end it now. The matter will be closed. But if this should be so, I will not give judgement. Do you understand?"

Frodo said, with difficulty, "I understand." He fell silent again.

Aragorn waited. When no more was forthcoming, he asked, "Do we continue?"

Finally, Frodo nodded -- a reluctant, vague motion.

"I ask you again. Did you expect that you would have been able to cast the Ring into the Fire?"

Silence fell. The only thing to be heard was Frodo's breathing -- harsh and laboured.

"If you would permit me to speak..." Gandalf said. Frodo looked up startled, as if he had forgotten the wizard's presence. Warily, he watched him as if he were unsure that Gandalf would help or hinder. The King inclined his head in assent.

"Do you remember, Frodo, the day you tried to cast the Ring into your fire, at Bag End?"

"Yes," he said cautiously.

"Were you able to destroy it then?"

"No," he said. "I couldn't."

"Sam," Aragorn said, "told me of how twice you spoke violently to him when he offered to help you carry the Ring. You had grown possessive, and could not bear for him to touch it. Do you remember this?"

"It is true. I remember it -- not what I said, but what I felt."

"Furthermore, he told me of these words -- words you said to him on the last approach to Mount Doom: 'I am almost in its power now. I could not give it up, and if you tried to take it I should go mad.'"

Frodo shifted upon his feet. "I believe him."

"Frodo," and here Aragorn's voice grew stronger, "you could not bring yourself to hurt the thing in your own home, when you were not in danger, and had not been wandering in the wild for many months. How, then, do you account for your belief that you could do such a thing at the end of your journey, when you yourself had admitted that you could not give it up?"

Frodo's voice was so low that Aragorn had to strain to hear it.

"I never believed that I could destroy the Ring."

"Yet you implied at the beginning of this meeting that you had intended to destroy it."

"I intended for it to be destroyed. I was given eight companions. When we set out from Rivendell, I thought that at least a few would have been left to me when we reached the Mountain. In that case, I thought that I could bring the Ring to the Fire, but that another could take it from me and throw it in."

Aragorn considered this for a moment. "And you would have accepted having the Ring taken from you, even for the purpose of having it destroyed? Given the words spoken thus far, I find that difficult to believe."

"You do not need to do so. I wouldn't have accepted it and I knew it. As Gandalf told me that day in the Shire, I would have gone mad."

"You speak in riddles. Speak more plainly."

Frodo looked at Aragorn almost pityingly -- an odd look, for tears were standing in his eyes.

"I am only a small hobbit, my King. You, Gandalf, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli - you all were far stronger than I. For one of you to hold me down while another took the Ring would have been no great matter..."

"But you would have gone mad."

"I would have."

Silence fell. Aragorn looked to Gandalf, but the wizard had closed his eyes. Slowly, carefully, Aragorn relaxed his hands.

With an even and steady voice, he said, "but when you reached the Cracks of Doom, you had only Sam. As worthy a companion as he was, was he capable of wresting the Ring from you by force? Could he have taken the place of the other companions in your plan?"

Frodo laughed then, a bitter sound. "Sam? Never. Even if he could have brought himself to do it, I would have fought him. By that time, I would have killed him, if it were possible for me to do so. No. Not Sam."

"And so we return to your original promise at the Council," Aragorn said. "You vowed to take the Ring to Mount Doom but you did not say you would destroy it. As much as you protested my reminding you of those words, it seems that that was your true intent. You never believed that you yourself could destroy it. And in the end, you couldn't. Why then do you talk of failure?"

"Why do I talk of failure?" Frodo said. "I didn't fail when I chose not to give up the Ring. No, not at all. I had one more plan."

He stopped for a moment, as if to catch his breath. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

"No. I had one more plan - something which Sam never knew -- for I knew that he would not have been able to help me. If I were to reach the Sammath Naur, still bearing the Ring, I still would have one more choice. If I could not have given the Ring up, I could have at least thrown myself, along with it, into the Fire!"

Frodo's voice had risen. Now he strode up the steps, forgetting himself in his grief. "Now do you understand why I talk of failure? I still had one more choice! I meant to have the Ring destroyed, by destroying myself. I had that choice. And it was cruel of me, for I would have left Sam to die alone, amongst the ruin of Mordor. But it was my choice, and I would have helped to save the West. All of you were depending on me, and I knew it!"

"But I gave in. The Ring was already precious to me. But I still had some measure of free will and I was ready to use it. I had that choice! But I chose not to do what I had come to do... and I claimed the cursed thing for my own."

Aragorn stirred. "And then Gollum came."

"And then Gollum came." Frodo's voice sank down to near its normal level, although harshness remained. "And the Ring was destroyed. I was happy then, for even though I had failed, I was relieved that the Ring was gone, and I was grateful that I could rest at last. Death seemed fitting both as reward and as punishment. And I was grateful that Sam would not be alone at the end."

"But then we were rescued. And I learned that I was expected to live. At first it was a sweet relief, but soon I came to realize that there was no such thing. I had cheated death, and wrongfully." Frodo shook his head slowly. "At first I thought that I was free of the Ring. It had been destroyed. But the more time went by, the more I wondered. It was just a hint at first, an unconscious feeling of missing something, but soon it was unmistakable. How foolish could I have been? To think that I could have walked away so easily? And it helped me realize that I had no right to be here. Soon everything served to remind me of my guilt. The Ring was gone, but so too was a part of me. I wished that I had perished in the Fire. I knew not what else I could do. I have wanted, even, to talk about the Ring, think about it, describe to someone how it felt to finally submit -- to tell them of the overwhelming relief in giving myself to its will... But how could I talk of such things to anyone? How could anyone want to hear such horrible words, and how could they bear to look at such a person as myself, who has shown such a ...perverted weakness?"

Frodo brandished his right hand. "This hand, that you have had so carefully tended, is the sign of my failure! Because I failed in my last choice, the Ring had to be taken from me by force, by Gollum. But for him, and because of me, the West was nearly brought to ruin! I failed. And I want to be punished."

His hand dropped to his side. "I need to be punished," he whispered. And then the Ring-bearer broke down and wept bitterly.

~ * ~

A long time passed. It was only when the Ring-bearer at last managed to regain a semblance of his composure did the King stir.

"You have spoken of terrible things today. Had I not deemed it necessary, I would not have pressed you. But you have spoken truthfully and now you have no more responsibility in the weighing of this matter. Go now and rest, for the trial is over. On the morrow, we shall meet for the last time, for then I shall give you my judgement, and I shall mete out such punishment as I see fitting."

Aragorn looked to Gandalf then. "If you are willing, I would have Frodo be taken back to the Houses of Healing and given over to the Healers there. Later, if he should wish it, he may have whatever companions he should ask for. But he may not work among the sick for the rest of the day. I do not think it wise."

Gandalf came up to the top of the steps. "I am willing." He put his hand lightly upon Frodo's shoulder, and Frodo turned silently, obediently. Slowly, wizard and halfling walked down the steps and out through the avenue of kings.

To be continued