The One Who Stole The Ring #twistfatechallenge

Three

Charcoal black clouds rumbled across the sky. For days, the sun had been hidden. This close to Mordor, one was unable to distinguish the day from night. Especially when they're only slightly conscious. 

Frodo, getting dark, sunken rings around his eyes, never slept. He could feel the Ring calling for his master, and felt such a strong urge to don the Ring. He knew it would send a beacon to their location, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to so desperately. 

Over time, Sam's attempts to take the Ring grew less subtle, and more dangerous. He was getting desperate. Through it all, he kept up the "Good Friend" facade. He fed Frodo --though he truly wanted him dead-- and pushed Frodo up whenever he'd fall. And every time that nasty remnant of a man, Gollum, gave him an evil look, Sam's anger grew. They were just days, or even hours away from Mount Doom, and he had still failed thus far. 

With a wicked grin, Sam allowed an evil, hopefully lucrative plan form in his mind. "Of course," he thought, "That is how I will do it. There is no way this won't work."

"Look, hobbitses!" Gollum croaked excitedly. 

Peering over a mountainous pile of sand, the halflings saw the Black Gate, towering over the approaching army. They were almost there.

"We're almost there, Mr. Frodo!" Sam shouted. He felt more excited than he had in weeks, but he had to keep it hidden. At least, he had to keep the reason for his excitement hidden. "All we have to do is get inside, and we're practically done!"

Frodo's eyes rolled back in his head as he struggled to comprehend. "Yes, Sam. I believe we are almost done."

But how would they get inside?

The question was answered as the monstrous gates creaked open, allowing space for the incoming army; and a few hobbits. 

Sam started. "Mr. Frodo! Do you think we could slip in behind the army?"

Frodo, mostly coherent now, nodded. "I believe so. But we must be quick!"

As the hobbits prepared to run, Gollum slunk backward. "This is as far as we will go, Precious. Hobbitses must not make us return to Mordor, they mustn't! We can't go in there again."

Frodo knelt by Gollum. "What do you mean? You've been there before?"

"Oh, forget him," Sam interrupted. "We'll miss our chance!"

The hobbits found bits of discarded armor near the path. Quickly, they put them on and slid behind the last company in the formation. 

As soon as they entered, they scanned their surroundings for a place to hide. Being half the height of everyone else, they were sure to stand out.

Silently, Frodo pointed towards some large rocks. The two crawled over there, only just missing being seen by The Eye of Sauron.

Their relief at being hidden did not last long. The Eye roved around the rocks where the hobbits hid, seemingly beckoning to them.

Frodo felt drawn to the Ring once more. As his finger neared the mouth of the deadly thing, Sam spotted him.

"No, Mr. Frodo!" Oh, how easy it would've been to take the Ring then! "If you give in now, we're sure to be found. Ignore the call, Frodo."

Slowly, Frodo lowered the Ring. "You're right. I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

Frodo moaned. It's calling, ever calling. It's tender sound grows with intensity, leaving him with no choice but to obey.

"Let's go, Sam," he whispered wearily. "I'm tired. So tired."

The boys straightened their helmets, then began the last leg of their journey. 

"Up these last few rocks," Sam panted, "and we'll be there."

Frodo looked up the side of a tall, steep volcano. He sat down, dejected. "There's no way we can do this, Sam. I can't make it."

"Sure you can! You weren't picked for this task because you could make it most of the way there. Gandalf knew you could do it. So did Bilbo. Think about Bilbo!"

Frodo's mind traveled back to his dear Uncle's face. He could hardly remember what he looked like, nor could he remember the Shire. 

"Do you remember the Shire, Sam?" He asked wistfully. "The taste of strawberries, the water flowing through the creek."

Sam hesitated, hit by a wave of nostalgia. "No, Mr. Frodo. I can't say I do."

Frodo looked up to the rocky peak again, his determination renewed. "Then let's do this. For the Shire!"

The halflings climbed and huffed, using every bit of energy they had to keep their feet moving.

It was close. The Ring recognized it's location, and it's destination. It pulled and tugged, purging Frodo's mind with black thoughts. But Frodo would not be swayed. His focus was on the Shire, and the entrance. 

Each time he looked up, the entrance was closer. Soon, the terrain evened out as they walked into the heart of the volcano. 

Sam's breath caught. What if he didn't catch it in time? What if Frodo blocked his mind so perfectly, he wouldn't hesitate to throw the Ring?

As they neared the edge, Sam shuffled over to Frodo. "Since we're here, can I look at it?"

Frodo's gaze was glued to the ring as Sam spoke. Slowly, he turned.

"No,Sam, you can't have it. It's mine! You can't take it away from me!"Frodo's tone grew angrier with each word.

Sam's rage only added to the sweltering temperatures. "Let me see it!"He shouted, making himself look bigger as to frighten Frodo.

Frodo took a step back. Just one, just enough.

Moving quickly, Sam wrenched the Ring from Frodo then gave him a hard shove.

Sam ignored the cries of his lifelong friend. Only the precious mattered.

Thus ends the Chronicles of the Ring.