A/N: Hey guys. Yeah…there are only so many excuses I can make for being such a bad updater. I can't believe it's been nearly two months since I've updated. I'm sorry, everyone. Can you forgive me? School's been insane like you wouldn't believe, and I haven't had time to get five hours of sleep every night, much less type up a chapter. But here I am now, typing up the LAST CHAPTER. That's right, guys…it's that time again! THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER OF PART II. The first chapter of the next part, Part III, will be posted on December 27. I repeat: DECEMBER 27. I've got a bunch of good surprises in store for the next part, so I don't wanna lose anyone in the transition. Please, please, pleeeeease write it down on your calendar, enter it into your palm pilot, tattoo it onto your forehead, whatever it takes to remember to read the new part. Stay with me. Stay with Al.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned LotR and all associated rights and licenses. However, I also wish my math mark on my report card was better, and since neither of those are gonna happen, I'll just deal with it.

Chapter 23: In Which People Realize Things (But Al is Still Screwed) . . .

As I returned to Osgiliath, I did an aerial pan of the city. Poor city. Faramir and his men had more or less driven off the Orc threat, but the place was left in absolute ruins. It was very, very grim. Like, even grimmer than it was before.

Frodo sat leaning against the remains of a pillar, despondently throwing pieces of rubble and watching them bounce away.

Hey, Frodo. So, everyone else is okay. Gandalf brought help, and Helm's Deep is okay now. Aragorn and Legolas send their love.

"That's wonderful news," Frodo said without any of the joy that's customary in uttering a sentence like that. He sighed and flicked another piece of rubble away. It leisurely bounced its way off of some cracked stone steps and rolled a short way before settling against the elbow of a dead Orc.

What's wrong now, O Sulky One?

"Oh, nothing. It's just…it seems like it's been centuries since I've seen the Shire. I know I complain about how annoying you are and how much danger we're in, but those things aren't the things that make me sad. I miss my home and my family and my friends. I miss waking up in my bed and looking out of my window to see my flowers. I miss the sunshine. The sun never quite shines over here the way it does in the Shire. Hobbits weren't meant to be so far from home, you know. Hobbits are made for staying in their little Hobbit villages, maybe an occasional short trip to the next village to visit their friends. This does not constitute a short trip to be made on occasions. This is a quest. Hobbits weren't made for quests. I just want to go home." Frodo's lower lip whibbled. He blinked away a few tears.

God, Frodo, you're such a whiner. But you look so small and sad right now, sitting in the middle of all of this devastation, trying not to cry. You're so little and cute that I'm actually going to tell you something sincere, instead of just ripping into you with a scathing insult.

Frodo put down the rubble he was fiddling with and listened.

Okay, here's the thing. I'm thousands of years old and I've never really had a permanent home, so it's easy for me to forget that you're really young and this is the longest and farthest you've ever been away from your little village. I'm starting to realize that this is pretty rough on you. But you have to understand where I'm coming from, too. Do you have any idea how rough it is for me, to spend every waking moment defending my innocence to people who already know I'm innocent? I mean, I thought we were friends! Maybe I'm just speaking for myself here, but over the past few months, I've gotten pretty attached to some of you. Beneath this undeniably gorgeous exterior, I have feelings too, you know. I feel pretty hurt every time you guys talk about having to kill me. I feel pretty hurt whenver fucktard over there (and I gestured to the eavesdropping Sam, who sheepishly looked away. Good. Let the fucker feel shame.) implies that I want to kill you in your sleep. Because I don't, Frodo, and I don't know why you won't believe me. Haven't I done enough to prove my loyalty?

Frodo was really crying now, sobbing and making cute little snuffling noises. Sam quickly came over to console him. Frodo discreetly moved away from Sam's wandering hands.

"Oh, Ring, we should have talked to each other sooner! I think we really do understand each other now."

"I think I understand too," Sam said.

What? I'm sorry, but I do believe I misheard you. What did you say just now?

"I think I understand you, Ring," Sam said, completely out of character.

Now, Samwise, think very hard about what you're saying. Maybe you're confused. Are you using the word "understand" incorrectly? Are you sure you don't mean "hate"? Or maybe "am unfairly bigoted against"? Because those would take the place of "understand" nicely, and make much more sense, coming from your mouth.

"I'm sure, Ring. I really have been unfair to you these past weeks. But you must understand, I was only being vigilant to protect Mr. Frodo. But after hearing your speech, I'm changing my opinion of you."

Really? Wait, are you just saying this so I'll stop making fun of you?

"No, I don't expect you'll ever stop doing that," Sam sad good-humouredly. "But I would like to call a truce."

Okay, Sam, I don't know what you're on or where you got the stuff, but never stop taking it, because it's doing you a world of good. Sure. We have a truce.

Frodo smiled at Sam. Everything was great—better than it had been for months. And then, of course, Faramir had to come over and ruin it.

"Master Baggins," he began, the look on his face as grim as his city.

Uh oh.

"I'm afraid we must ask you to leave Osgiliath and continue on your way to Mordor."

Excuse me? WHAT?

"Looking around the broken remains of what used to be a vibrant city, I am now realizing that I cannot simply decide to keep the Ring alive. There are greater forces at work, and many of these forces truly believe in the Evil that the Ring symbolises. In order to defeat Sauron, we must at least appear to destroy the Ring."

Wait, wait, hold up. Faramir, come on. You can't be serious. There's got to be some other way to defeat Sauron. I mean, yeah, the guy's pretty powerful, but he's just a flaming eyeball right now. You could just go up to him and douse him.

"If we are to get at Sauron, we must first defeat the armies he and Saruman have created. And in order to do that, we must first rouse the nations into believing that victory is possible. And in order to do that…we must indulge in their sense of symbolism."

Frodo? Sam? Guys, can you just leave me with Faramir for a little? We need to speak in private.

Frodo handed me over to Faramir reluctantly.

"Al—"

Don't even start, guy. I thought we were pals.

"We are!" Faramir protested.

You sure are a crappy pal.

"Look, Al, I have been stuck out in the middle of these hinterlands with no one but uncultured renegade soldiers, who will not speak their minds with me because I am their leader. You are the first intelligent being to have struck conversation with me, and I value your friendship highly."

Wow, you have a really strange way of showing it.

"Al, I promise you, all of this is for the sake of appearances. Continuing your quest to Mordor will not only rouse the people, but will also dampen the spirits of Sauron's forces. The Free Peoples are not the only superstitious ones—Sauron's troops also believe in your power, and it will greatly test their mettle to think that you are to be imminently destroyed."

Yeah, but it also kinda tests my mettle to think that I'm to be imminently destroyed.

"But you shall not be! I give you my word that I shall think of a plan long before you are in any actual danger."

I've heard this all before, Faramir. Months ago, back in the Shire, Gandalf promised me the exact same thing, and look where I am now. Why the hell should I believe you?

"I do not give my word lightly. Besides, I am much more resourceful than Gandalf. All this time, you have been at the mercy of the intellects of old men and hobbit-children. Do not fear, Al. With your wits and mine combined, we shall soon have you safe and sound."

I have to admit that Faramir's reasoning somewhat comforted me. Against my better judgement, I agreed.

Oh, what the hell. I've gone along with it for this long; I guess I can afford to go along with it for a little while longer. You guys are so mean. Just because you're big and have opposable thumbs, you think you can bully me around however you please. Do you really promise to come up with a plan?

"I give you my most solemn of promises."

We called Frodo back over, and he slipped me onto his chain again. "Are we off to Mordor once more?" he asked, sounding very, very tired.

"I'm sorry, young Master Baggins, but we do have to trouble you to commence your trek right away," Faramir replied. "But Al will make sure that we keep in constant contact. You shall not be alone on your journey." He paused to cock his head to the side. "Could we also trouble you to take that curious Gollum creature with you?"

I turned to where he was looking. Sure enough, there was Gollum, skulking in the shadows where he had been hiding for a while.

NO! THAT WAS NOT PART OF THE DEAL! Are you familiar with the term 'a fate worse than death'? Yeah. I'll play your sick little charade, but I am not going to spend any more nights listening to Gollum's perverted heavy breathing.

"Oh, come one, Ring. You're not the only one who deserves redemption," Frodo said. "We'll take Gollum with us."

No! Frodo, bless your soft little heart, but some things just can't be rehabilitated. Sam, come on, you know this is a dumb idea."

"One of the few things we can agree on," Sam agreed. "Mr. Frodo, that thing can't be trusted! It's not safe to have him around us, slinking about in the night, ready to kill us the first chance he gets!"

Frodo frowned. "Sam, you said the same things about the Ring! And look, now you've called a truce. If you would only give Smeagol a chance…"

No way, kid. Not Gollum. No chances.

"You are such a hypocrite, Ring. If I were as hard-hearted and stubborn as you, you would've been flung into the fires of Mount Doom already."

Hey, don't compare my situation with Gollum, okay? They're completely different things. First of all, no one's threatening his life—we just don't want him on the road with us. Secondly, I've known him for years, back in the day, so I know what he's like, okay? He's not a diamond in the rough. There is absolutely nothing good under that slimy exterior. He will find some way to sell us out, and he wouldn't hesitate to betray us the second he's found a way. Take my word for it.

"Well, we cannot very well leave him all alone out in the middle of nowhere! Faramir's troops are much too busy to take him in. And besides, if he really is planning on some sort of treachery, would it not be better to keep him with us, where we can watch him? It is much more dangerous to let him run loose when he already knows so much about us."

Which was how we got saddled with Gollum once more.

The four of us set out towards Mordor, walking in more or less companionable silence. And then, of course, Sam just had to start singing.

Would you please just shut the fuck up? I'm trying to enjoy my horror and depression in peace and silence here.

Sam stuck his tongue out at me.

God, that's nasty. Keep that thing in your mouth.

Frodo let my chain hang out of his shirt, so that I could see the "scenery". Rocks, rocks, and more rocks, on a backdrop of sad grey rocks and gnarled, dead trees. Lovely. I was stranded in the middle of nowhere with Frodo, Fucktard, and (shudder) Gollum, and we were all taking a leisurely stroll away from decent company and towards the place where I was most likely going to be killed.

Don't you guys feel a strong sense of déjà vu? Isn't this just like that time when we broke off from the rest of the group and went across that river in that little canoe?

"Yeah, except this time you and Sam have called a truce. I'm expecting you guys to fight a lot less. You can't make fun of Sam so much anymore, Ring…however are you going to live?" Frodo teased.

Sam started singing again, and Frodo joined in, whistling along. Gollum scrambled ahead, muttering rabidly to himself.

However am I going to live indeed.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . END of Part II

Is Sam's change of heart sincere, or does he have ulterior motives? Will Faramir come through for Al? Will Arwen get in the way of Legolas and Aragorn's love? Will Merry and Pippin ever shut up? And what will happen to Al, anyway? Find out all of this, and more, in "Alfonso the Ring: Part III", out December 27, 2005.

ps- And review! This is your last chance to review a new chapter of Part II!

pps- Thank you, dear reader, for the wild ride. Part II wouldn't have been the same without you. See you in December!