The Return of the King
Chapter 1
Before the Ring
It was a peaceful morning when Deagol and his cousin Sméagol had gone fishing. The river was blue and the wood green as always. Everything was always bright. Deagol was not a very good fisherman. He could only wait and wait and wait. Sméagol was always the expert, and did his best to give his cousin some tips on how to catch a fish properly.
Deagol calmly looked around at the beautiful river when he felt a tug on his fishing rod. He looked out into the water and jumped, not sure what to do. He was so excited he almost lost his voice.
"Sméagol!" He finally said. "Sméagol, I got one!"
"Well go on," Sméagol urged. "Pull it in!" He enjoyed watching his cousin struggle. It tickled him that he didn't know how to fish. Not that he was malicious, he just liked to tease and have fun.
But his tickling had stopped when Deagol was pulled over the boat. Sméagol looked around in confusion. That must have been a big fish to pull a hobbit under water.
"Deagol!" He cried out.
But Deagol seemed a little preoccupied, being dragged through the water by an overgrown fish. He gave up and let go of the fishing rod. He was about to resurface when he saw something glitter in the water. He picked it up, along with some mud. Just as his air was running out, he swam up and literally jumped out of the river.
He coughed for a minute, and then stood up and looked around, happy to be alive. He had almost forgotten the clump of mud in his hand. He opened his hand and there among the mud, was a beautiful golden ring. No dents, no imperfect craftsmanship, and just the right size. Sméagol had heard his coughs and ran up river to find him. He finally caught up to him and sighed of relief.
"Deagol!" He said, almost laughing. His voice trailed off when he saw what his cousin was holding in his palm. He looked at the perfected piece of gold and placed his hand on Deagol's shoulder.
"Give that to me, my love." He said. Deagol closed his hand and suddenly became on the defensive. He turned and looked at Sméagol.
"Why?" He asked.
"Because my love," Sméagol said, resting his head on Deagol's shoulder. "It's my birthday, and I wants it!" He suddenly reached to grasp it. Deagol quickly jerked his hand away. The two cousins stared each other down, like wolves preparing for battle. Sméagol wrapped his arms around Deagol's body, attempting to knock him down. Deagol pushed him and they both toppled onto the ground. Deagol quickly made for the ring, now lying on the ground without a bearer.
Sméagol crawled on him, but was quickly kicked off. Deagol ran to grab the ring. He stood up and put a hand upon Sméagol's throat. Sméagol quickly tore away and bit into his cousin's hand. Deagol let out a cry that was cut off when Sméagol grabbed his throat and pushed him to the ground, still with his fingers around Deagol's neck. Deagol struggled for a moment. He kicked his feet awkwardly, and then went completely limp after what felt like an eternity. Sméagol looked at Deagol in awe. He never thought that he was so strong before in his life. He opened Deagol's stiffened hand, which was still holding the ring. He picked it up and looked at his trophy.
"My… Precious…" He said and placed the ring upon his finger.
His world was never bright again.
~jb~
They cursed us
Murderer, they called us
They drove us away
Gollum…Gollum…Gollum
And we wept
Precious
We wept
We so alone
And we forgot the taste of bread
The warmth of the sunlight
The softness of the wind
We even forgot
Our
Own
Name
It's mine
My own
My
Precious
~jb~
Hazel was only seven when she and her six-year-old sister Ruby were led to the house called Bag End. Hazel didn't know Bilbo very well, and she and Ruby acted shy around him. Their mother had received news that their father had died a few weeks ago. It would seem Hazel and Ruby were too young to understand, but you would be wrong. They did, and they were still grieving. The only thing Hazel and Ruby didn't understand was that you were supposed to wear black when you were grieving. Their mother didn't make them wear black, it wasn't her taste anyways.
"Come along, my children." Mrs. Goodchild said. "We have someone knew in our neighborhood. She was carrying a basket of her legendary muffins. Once they reached Bag End, she turned her two daughters with a concerned eye. "Remember," She told them. "He has lost both of his parents. Try to be sensitive."
"What does sensitive mean?" Hazel asked curiously, for she loved to learn new, big words.
"It means to be kind, and understand how other people feel." Their mother replied. They both nodded in understanding, each vowing to not speak of it at all.
The round, green door was answered by Bilbo himself, and both girls hid themselves behind their mother. Bilbo was in his fifties, yet he appeared in his thirties. He was very cheerful and witty. The sisters had to admit, Bilbo was a fascinating hobbit.
He welcomed them inside, and called out for his nephew. Ruby and Hazel looked around the kitchen. This home seemed very unique, with lots of detail and craftsmanship.
A young, boy walked in with dark-brown hair and blue eyes. Hazel didn't think much of it, and distanced herself from him.
Ruby set herself next to her mother and listened to Bilbo's stories. All hobbits loved to tell stories, and hobbit children loved to hear them. Bilbo introduced the boy as Frodo Baggins; he was two years older than Hazel. Frodo and Hazel said nothing to each other, but she started to notice how pretty his eyes were. Hazel began to think she might like this boy as a friend.
Eventually, she whispered something to him, and he nodded.
"Uncle," He said. "Can we go outside?"
"Yes," Bilbo said. When they left, Bilbo turned to their mother.
"So, Abigail," He said. "Do you suppose those two will grow up and fall in love?"
Abigail rolled her eyes. "Oh my, my, my,"
Hazel led Frodo to a spot in the East Farthing woods, a place where Hazel always went to play. For a while they sat under the shade of a tree and talked.
"I bet I could beat you up." Frodo teased.
"What makes you think that?" Hazel challenged.
"I'm bigger than you are!"
"Well, you haven't yet," Hazel retorted. "And you never will!"
"You're probably right," Frodo said. "You're too pretty,"
Hazel blushed at his comment, but she shook it off, and tried to change the subject. "You know, my favorite color is violet."
"My favorite color is green." Frodo said, and he blushed when he realized Hazel's eyes were green, but he couldn't stop himself from saying: "Your eyes are pretty."
This is getting ridiculous! Hazel thought. "Stop teasing me!"
"Why?" Frodo asked, his smile never ceasing.
"Because!" Hazel said. "I think you like me!"
"I don't!" Frodo retorted.
"Kiss me!" Hazel said. "I dare you!"
By the mischievous look on Frodo's face, Hazel knew what he was thinking. By the look of Hazel's widening eyes, Frodo knew what she was thinking. At the same moment, the two hobbit-children stood up and ran back to Bag End. Hazel ran as if her life had depended on it. Once they had reached Bag End, the two children were laughing like none before.
"Thanks," Frodo said. "I thought I would never laugh again."
"Me neither!" Hazel said. "Thank you!"
That encounter had blossomed a wonderful and endless friendship, a friendship that would change Hazel's life forever.
I've noticed The Two Towers is a favorite for fans. Mine is the Fellowship of the Ring. These ones are based off the books and the movies. At the time, my writing partner had not yet read the books, and I had only seen the extended edition. I hope you enjoy this new story! :)