Frodo and the Finger
Summary: (one shot) OK. So currently, I'm a bit on the insane side. :P But, inspired by the abnormally large size of my fingers, I wondered what would happen if Frodo, suffering an allergic reaction to the sulfur in the Fires of Mount Doom, was unable to stick the ring on his finger, because they had swollen up something horribly. (Told you I was insane! )
Disclaimer: I love you guys. Really, I do. No matter how hard I try, some of you still insist that I own all of this. I'm flattered. You all are so kind! But seriously, although I hate to hurt your feelings, the credit all goes to Tolkien. I get the finger, though. :P
Sam ran desperately up the steep, winding path, littered with sharp rocks and perilous drops, the path that would lead him 1ead him deep into Mount Doom. He had to reach Frodo—he was so weak, and the ring had such a strong hold on him—Sam was afraid that somehow, Frodo would at the last minute, succumb to the whispers that had been tormenting his wearied mind.
Finally, he reached the door. Dark smoke drifted out, accompanied by a stench that vaguely reminded Sam of rotten eggs, though it was nearly outpoured by the smoke. He squinted against the heat, drying to see into the darkness, hoping for a glance of Mr. Frodo.
"Frodo! Master!" He called into the mountain, hoping for a response from his best friend. He heard nothing. A cold fear clenching his heart—a coldness quite out of place, considering the heat of the place—he stepped in.
At first, Sam couldn't see anything. Then, he remembered the phial from Galadriel. Happily, he pulled it out of his pocket, holding it out like a lifeline. But no light came forth from it. "Noooo!" his mind cried in anguish, "He can't hold power over Lady Galadriel!" Yet, it appeared, that was how it would be.
He uselessly gripped it tighter in his sweaty palms, and fearfully, he stumbled forward in the dark Suddenly, a great red flash burst up from below his sight of vision. He looked around, startled, and nearly lost his balance as the mountain trembled angrily.
"Frodo!" he cried again, though he received no answer. Then, the light appeared again, and he saw Frodo, standing at the edge of the chasm.
"I'm here, Sam," he heard Frodo's weary voice reply.
"Destroy it!" Sam urged desperately. Frodo turned, but then stood still. "Go on!" Sam cried, concerned by Frodo's resistance, "Now! Throw it in the fire!"
Frodo stood still for several long, agonizing moments, then turned to face Sam, a maniac light gleaming in his eyes. "The Ring is mine." He took the Ring in his other hand and yanked it from its chain.
Sam's heart dropped into his stomach. "No…no…" he pleaded.
Frodo smiled, an evil smirk, the likes of which Sam had never seen or dreamed of—especially not on his Master's face. Frodo moved the Ring towards his finger. Tears welled up in Sam's face.
But then, Frodo's expression changed from one of menacing evil to surprise, then confusion, shock, and lastly, anger. "No!" he shrieked, and began slamming his hands together. Then, Frodo began crying out "Fit! Fit! Go on you stupid Ring!"
Sam looked in confusion at Frodo. What the… he thought, but before he could say anything, a heavy object slammed into his head and he sank to the ground in dark oblivion.
Gollum, never one to miss any type of opportunity—least of all one concerning his baby…his Precious—, leapt up at Frodo. Frodo barely had time to register the emancipated figure flying at him before he was knocked backward several steps by the snakelike creature clawing desperately at his now tightly clasped hand.
"No!" Frodo yelled at Gollum, "it's mine!"
"It…doesn't…fit you…Precious!" Gollum hissed as he was pushed off Frodo and then flew back at him.
"It does to!" Frodo screamed back, "leave it alone! Get your own Precious!"
Gollum's eyes grew wide, and he sat back momentarily. "That wasn't very nice, no Precious, not very nice at all. Gollum…Gollum" His eyes narrowed, and he tensed, ready to spring back at Frodo. "Nasty hobbitses: that is Sméagol's precious!" With that, he leapt back into action.
Frodo sidestepped, but Gollum anticipated his move and grabbed Frodo's hand—the one with the Ring. Both froze in shock.
At that moment, Sam awoke from his unconscious state. He looked through blurry at eyes at two figures standing, lighted by a light from behind and slightly below them, holding hands. "Ugh," he moaned, and his head collapsed back to the stone.
As soon as Sam's head fell limply back, Frodo and Gollum sprang back into motion. Gollum grasped Frodo's hand tightly at the same time that Frodo spun his hand away from him. Both ended face down on the ground, and the Ring clanked heavily between them.
Time froze, and the two nemeses stared each other in the eyes. Then, as if at the mark of an imagined referee, they sprang towards it. Gollum reached for it at the same time Frodo came bulldozing towards him.
Frodo knocked Gollum backwards onto the ground, landing on top of him, and began flailing at Gollum with his fists.
Sam regained consciousness once again, and saw a figure laying on the ground, with Frodo straddled on top of it, grunts coming from both, with their arms flying towards and wrapping around the other. In Sam's confuzzled brain, it resembled many a scene from his tween years, when hormones and emotions were raging wildly in both the lads and lasses. His eyes widened in embarrassment at witnessing this private scene, and his head flopped back once again.
Gollum, sick and tired of countless years wasted fighting and tracking others just so he could regained his precious, flung Frodo with all his strength up and back. But he forgot that Frodo had a tight hold on him, and thus went flying over Frodo's head.
Unfortunately, for both Frodo and Gollum, they had run out of ground, and he landed on thin air. Though, of course, since it was thin air, he didn't actually land on anything, and so fell down towards the pretty hot orange stuff.
Oooh, Gollum thought, pretty hots orange stuff…just like precious. Then he dropped towards it, as Frodo fell off the edge too.
Sam woke up right as Gollum, was flying off the edge, and he unsteadily climbed to his feet and ran—in a rather crooked pattern, actually—to his master's assistance. Just as he reached for Frodo, Gollum's weight pulled Frodo off the edge.
He threw his hand out and grabbed Frodo's trousers, and held on for all he was worth, despite the fact that he found his grip to be in a rather uncomfortable place.
Gollum, stopped by the sudden change in weight, threw his hands open in surprise. The Ring dropped out, and he squirmed wildly, trying to release himself from Frodo's grip so he could rescue his Precious.
Frodo, realizing that Gollum had dropped the Ring, withdrew one hand and punched wildly at Gollum's face. The force of the blow threw Gollum back and he fell back towards the lava.
In a skydiving moment, Gollum dove towards the freefalling ring and grabbed it. He reached back for his parachute, but grew angry as he realized that he wasn't skydiving, but actually falling into a pit of hot orange stuff. He realized as he drew closer that it wasn't so pretty. "Noooo!" he cried angrily, then hit the lava.
Sam pulled Frodo—who was now in tears at having lost the Ring—up, and the two ran towards the red exit sign posted above the door, and to safety as the Ring fell into the Fires of Mount Doom.
THE END