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The Cusp of Victory  by Kara's Aunty

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, his family, New Line cinema, etc. I have written this for my own enjoyment.

Summary: After Frodo claims the Ring, Sam has a decision to make…

A double-Droubble and a half (450 words)

Chapter Four: Dilemma!

Sam’s despairing cry was lost amidst the roaring fury of fire when Frodo’s long defiance of Sauron’s jewel finally crumbled. The One Ring now dominated his dearest friend’s body and mind.

That iron Baggins‘ will had been broken at last!

No! It couldn’t be. Sam wouldn’t believe it! Frodo had fought so hard, and for so long … He’d be shattered if that evil thing corrupted his purity and made a mockery of the gentle hobbit he had ever been; just like he was back in the dreadful Tower of Cirith Ungol after calling Sam a thief.

“Oh, Sam. What have I said? What have I done? Forgive me! After all that you have done. It is the horrible power of the Ring … You can’t come between me and this doom.”

“Begging your pardon, Mr Frodo, but yes I can!” he thought grimly, as his eyes swept the dusty ground before him; he may not be able to see his master, but even invisible hobbits left footprints. “I’ll not let you struggle alone - not as long as there’s a breath to be had in this poisonous cave!”

Yet time was against them: the Dark Lord must surely be aware of the danger he was in. It was a matter of minutes until his servants showed up …

“Frodo, you have to take it off!” yelled the little gardener aloud. “He knows you’re here now. He knows it is here!”

“Go home, Sam,” replied Frodo. Yet not Frodo - there was a hard edge to his master’s voice that did not sit right in Sam’s ears.

It was the voice of the Ring.

Sam heaved with anger and hatred for it.

“I‘m sorry, Mr Frodo. Your Sam’s not going anywhere; and sure as eggs is eggs, he’ll see you right again.”

Though in order to do that, he would need to separate the Ring from Frodo - and in his current state, Frodo would not part from it without a fight …

The gardener swallowed hard. Nothing seemed more foreign to him than the thought of harming so much as a curly hair on his beloved master‘s head. It was plain wrong, is what it was! But there was nothing else for it. He’d just have to think of it as attacking the Ring.

And that he could do.

He lunged forward in desperation, hoping to catch a telltale sign of his enemy’s presence. Brown eyes swept the ground wildly, searching, seeking, hoping, until …


The unmistakable dent of a hobbit tread appeared not three feet to his left. Sam didn’t even pause to think: he leapt to the side and barrelled straight into the invisible figure ...


Author's Note: Some text and dialogue lifted from The Lord of the Rings, The Return of the King, Book Six, Chapter 1: The Tower of Cirith Ungol.

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