LOTR: TMCP Ch. 404

"Garrett, are you all right?"

On the road to Mount Doom, Frodo seemed to sense something. He suddenly looked up and noticed that Garrett appeared to be spacing out, lost in thought.

"I'm fine. Doing all right."

Garrett came back to his senses and replied lightly.

"Did something happen?"

Frodo looked worried, and Sam also turned his gaze toward him. With Garrett by their side, the two Hobbits felt an overwhelming sense of safety. Even if Sauron himself were to appear, they wouldn't be afraid. Because of that, their moods had eased a great deal. Sam was even thinking about what feast he'd cook to celebrate once they returned to the Shire. But in truth, the most relaxed person among them right now was Sam.

Truly, it was him.

As the Ring drew closer to Mount Doom, the very place where it had been forged, its power grew stronger. It had become so heavy it was almost like a lump of solid iron, pressing down on Frodo until he could barely breathe, leaving red marks around his neck.

"It's nothing, just..."

Garrett suddenly stopped walking and looked at Frodo. "That ring you're carrying keeps calling my name," he said quietly. "It's driving me mad."

Hearing that, Frodo was struck by an odd impulse. Almost without realizing it, he took the Ring out from his shirt and held it in his open palm, showing it completely to Garrett.

"This...?"

Frodo asked softly, as if in a daze.

Why did I take it out? Why am I showing my ring, my precious, to someone else?

He didn't know what had driven him to such an uncharacteristic act. But because of the deep trust he'd built toward Garrett over a long time, his tone remained gentle. After all, this was someone he'd heard stories about since childhood, a figure who had accompanied him through countless nights and dreams. Those tales were carved into his heart, unforgettable, unshakable.

Sam felt the same. To both of them, this familiar, legendary figure standing before them was wrapped in a warm glow of trust. Their faith in him was nearly absolute. But... the moment the One Ring appeared, and Garrett's gaze fell upon it, something felt off.

He stood there, staring at the Ring. His eyes didn't blink. His face was expressionless. He said nothing.

That silence made Frodo and Sam uneasy.

Yet they remembered how, back in Ithilien, they had once misunderstood Faramir, the noble captain of Gondor. So they forced down the suspicion rising within them, waiting quietly for Garrett to speak, to explain, to reassure them.

But what Garrett did next only deepened their unease. He turned and took two slow steps toward Frodo, his eyes never leaving the Ring. Just like so many before him, he slowly reached out his hand toward it.

Frodo looked up and, for an instant, the figure before him seemed to overlap with Aragorn's... and with Faramir's. These noble leaders among Men, they had all been drawn to the Ring at first, only to steady themselves and tell him to put it away safely.

Maybe Garrett would do the same...

"Wait!"

Just as Frodo was lost in that thought, Sam suddenly shouted from behind. Frodo turned, just in time to see Garrett's hand shoot forward, seizing the Ring and snapping the chain that held it in one swift motion.

He took it. Just like that, Garrett took the Ring.

Frodo froze. His mind went blank, buzzing as if struck by lightning. For a moment, he wondered if it was an illusion. But when the broken chain slipped from his neck and fell to the ground with a soft clink, he knew this was real.

He stared at the chain, mouth open, eyes wide. Then his brows suddenly drew together, and his face twisted into something feral. In one swift motion, he drew Sting and lunged at the man before him.

"No, Frodo, no!"

Sam grabbed him from behind, using all his strength to stop Frodo from doing something he would regret.

"My precious, it's my precious!"

Frodo screamed, his eyes red, struggling wildly, elbowing Sam hard in an attempt to break free. His face, contorted and desperate, looked almost exactly like Gollum's.

The corruption had already sunk deep into him. He'd simply managed to hide it until now. The Ring had always been in his keeping. Sam's loyalty had been tested many times, but his heart remained pure, untempted, and that had given Frodo a false sense of safety, leading him to believe he was still in control. All along the way, he had refused to let Sam hold the Ring, even for a short while, to ease the burden. Whether that was out of concern or some hidden selfish desire of his own... even Frodo himself could no longer tell.

Perhaps it was both.

Bleeding and battered, Sam still clung to Frodo with all his strength, refusing to let him go.

Before them, Garrett seemed completely unconcerned with Frodo's sudden burst of hostility. His eyes were fixed on the small ring in his hand as he murmured, "Look at it. Fascinating, isn't it? Sauron has already been defeated, and yet this ring still holds such great power."

As if a thought had struck him, he gazed at the One Ring with interest and continued, "Strange, really. Every person who has ever possessed this ring has faced terrible danger, because it draws evil things toward itself, manipulating events by any means necessary, all in order to return to its true master. But now its master has fallen. All evil has been purged. There is nothing left that can answer its call. So what can it do now? How can it struggle?"

He held the Ring up before his eyes. "Do you feel it now? That helplessness? That isolation?"

In that instant, even Sam and Frodo froze, for the first time, they sensed that the Ring itself was afraid. The man before them suddenly felt unfathomable. The heroic glow, the legendary aura that once surrounded him, began to fade away. When all illusion was stripped away, the two Hobbits finally understood what kind of being stood before them, and they felt, for the first time, what the orcs must have felt.

It was utter despair.

"Don't!" Frodo suddenly cried out, the sword Sting falling from his grasp.

Sam's eyes went wide with shock. Before their eyes, Garrett slowly put the Ring on his finger.

Boom!

Mount Doom began to quake violently. On the black tower, the fiery Eye that had been locked in battle with the armies of Men trembled violently, yet it did not shift its gaze. In the instant the Ring was worn, Sauron knew. His precious was right there, beneath his very eye, carried all the way to the Cracks of Doom. In the past, he would have immediately turned his gaze to see who wore the Ring. But this time, he did not.

Even knowing the Ring was there, he would not look.

Whoosh.

The eight Nazgûl, who had once again lost their physical forms in battle, suddenly reappeared together, bowing low upon the slopes of Mount Doom. They knelt before that dark, abyssal figure, a presence so vast and suffocating that even the Nazgûl, once directly bound to the will of the Ring's master, were strengthened by his power. It was as if they could now affect the mortal world even without their bodies.

Frodo and Sam stumbled backward, unable to look upon him.

Far away, Gandalf's head snapped toward Mount Doom, his heart seizing in terror. And he was not alone. Across Middle-earth, Elves and wizards alike felt the same dreadful surge.

Even Saruman.

"I told you so!" Saruman screamed in panic.

It was over. All of it was over. The end had come.

On the mountainside, Garrett waved a hand. Instantly, the Nazgûl's forms dissolved into mist, driven back into the world of the dead. Then he began to walk slowly toward Frodo.

Swish!

This time, it was Sam who drew his sword, pointing the blade straight at Garrett. Tears streaked down his face. His whole body trembled. His teeth chattered, but still, he stood between Frodo and the man before them. After all they had endured, he had grown thin, worn down, yet he stared at Garrett. "I don't believe it. I won't believe it..."

Under the Hobbits' desperate gaze, Garrett extended his hand toward them. Only then did Sam realize he didn't have the courage to strike back. All he could do was stand there, shielding Frodo with his own body.

"No, Sam!"

Frodo finally understood what was happening. Struggling free, he rushed forward and spread his arms wide, standing in front of Sam with his eyes tightly shut.

Clink.

But the expected judgment never came.

Instead, two warm hands rested gently on their heads. The movement was a bit stiff, but it was clear their owner was doing his best to show kindness.

Then he turned and walked away.

Frodo and Sam stood frozen, staring blankly at his retreating figure.

They looked at each other, took a deep breath, and followed after him.

---

[Corruption Level: 50%]

Visions swirled before Garrett's eyes. Seductive voices whispered endlessly in his ears.

From this moment on, Middle-earth would have a true emperor, the ruler who would unify the world. He would be called the Lord of Middle-earth. Men, Dwarves, Elves, and orcs alike would bow before him. None would defy his will.

His name would be sung in every land where life still stirred. His deeds would be praised without end. His dominion would spread without limit, until the entire world bore only one color.

"And what of the people of Middle-earth?"

At that question, the vision shifted.

He saw every being in the world bowing to a black figure at its center, revering him as the highest existence in their hearts, faithfully carrying out his will, worshiping him as a god. Every word he spoke became reality. He could do whatever he wished, bound by no law, opposed by no one. Everything in existence revolved around him alone...

He shook his head faintly.

Sensing his deep rejection of this vision, the illusion shattered in an instant. But soon, new ones emerged to take its place.

A magnificent world full of wonders.

A world where all were kind.

A world of endless prosperity, ruled by a king who would never fall.

Visions flooded before his eyes, showing him every possible future the world could have. Yet none of them could halt his steps toward Mount Doom. Not even for a heartbeat.

His stride was slow but resolute, just like the road he had walked for over eighty years. He was no longer that young adventurer of long ago. All the joys and sorrows, the meetings and farewells, the emptiness that followed, every one of those moments had shaped the man standing here now. Behind him stretched not just the vast world, but the generations of lives that had walked beside him.

Even if most of them were now gone.

What were power and wealth compared to home and kin, compared to true harmony, and the endless potential of the world itself?

The One Ring trembled violently. The Black Speech engraved upon it began to glow. Under immense pressure, it unleashed more and more of its buried strength. Even the great fiery Eye atop the Dark Tower suddenly closed, as a dark will shifted and reached out to join the struggle.

"After nearly a century in this world, are you truly content? Are you willing to remain so... insignificant?"

Garrett's steps faltered slightly. Sensing his hesitation, the illusions surged again, fiercer than before, probing deeper than ever.

They even stirred something buried deep within his heart, memories he had long locked away.

[Corruption Level: 80%]

"Invade Valinor. Seize the Halls of Mandos. There you can meet your friends again, the faces you thought lost forever. You'll never need to suffer the pain of life and death, of separation and grief. Every soul in this world, whether living or dead, whether leaving or staying, their fate will be yours to command. Don't you desire that power? You can achieve it. Become our ally. With your strength, it wouldn't take long to bring this world to its knees..."

Step.

His foot came down, moving forward again.

"The dragons! They have immense potential. I can help you study them. I promise, when you meet the dragons again, you'll discover something entirely new!"

Still, his steps did not stop.

"No, not just new discoveries about dragons. There is also the true Dark Lord who wanders beyond this world, Morgoth. The mightiest of all beings under the One. Even Manwë, Lord of the Valar, pales beside him. When he returns from beyond the cosmos, Infinity itself will follow. Then the world will be yours. Everything, yours to rule. When you possess that kind of power, what could you possibly fear?"

Garrett stood frozen.

For a moment, his hearing faded. Darkness fell before his eyes. His awareness soared, beyond the stars, beyond the walls of the world, seeing countless things across past, present, and future. The power of the One Ring was fusing with him, the two spiraling upward together, endlessly.

Even the Blessed Realm beyond Arda could sense it.

[Corruption Level: 99.9%]

In the molten fissures of Mount Doom, in Sauron's great forge at the heart of Mordor, the Ring poured out every ounce of its strength, desperate to conquer that last 0.1%. But the progress bar froze. Consciousness began to sink.

"No."

Garrett suddenly smiled, and shook his head.

"There are things in this world more important than power."

He let the Ring fall from his hand.

It was like the closing note of a bright and beautiful symphony.

A melody without regret or parting, without collapse or despair.

A song whose ending was joy, and reunion.

He had passed his trial. And with that, the story finally reached its end.