---Please read A Meeting of Heirs before reading this, as I had a stupid moment and based some aspects of this story off of that story. ---

Gandalf peered into the shadows around him, looking for the particular deeper shadow he knew was there. The friend he had called was never late, but often found it amusing to watch the old wizard try to find him. "All right, I give up. I don't have time for this so just get over here," Gandalf growled as he sat down cross-legged on the ground. One of the tree trunks across the clearing suddenly split in two, and a seven-and-a-half-foot section glided over to sit across from him. Aragorn pushed back the voluminous hood of his mottled, dark green cloak and looked at the wizard expectantly. "You know I hate it when you do that," Gandalf grumbled. The way the Ranger seemed to just appear still startled him, and he knew Aragorn knew it. "I need your help."

"Obviously. What for?"

Gandalf's bushy eyebrows came together and jutted out over his smoldering eyes as he glared with enough intensity to make a dwarf run for cover. Aragorn steepled his fingers and waited calmly. Gandalf shook his head and reminded himself that there was little time, and it was fast running out.

"I must find the creature Gollum. He was once called Sméagol, and I fear he possesses information that may prove to be disastrous in the wrong hands. I have searched for him for weeks now, and every time I think I have him, the trail goes cold. I last found signs of him on the very northern edge of the Emyn Muil. I hope he is not headed for Mordor, but that seems to be the case."

"What kind of information?" Aragorn's expression showed nothing but a casual interest, but Gandalf had long since learned that the grim Ranger was never casual about anything. He was also exceedingly stubborn and infuriatingly clever. He would wheedle out what he wanted to know with very little effort, and Gandalf would accomplish nothing by trying to fool him except to lose his trust.

"When I led those dwarves to defeat Smaug all those years ago, we were waylaid by goblins and forced to pass under the mountains rather than over them. Bilbo encountered Gollum in a cave there. He had found a ring in the tunnels, and Gollum complained of having lost one. The ring allows Bilbo to become invisible, and though I am not yet sure which one, I believe it is a Ring of Power."

Aragorn cocked an eyebrow at this, but all he said was, "Allows?"

"Yes. Bilbo still has the ring in his possession, and therein lies the problem. Gollum knows Bilbo has it, and he also knows who he is and where he is from."

"Ah. So, if Sauron were to get ahold of Gollum, he would find out about the ring and have the Shire brought to his attention."

"Yes."

"Well, I suppose I don't have a choice. Tell me all you can about him, and I'll see what I can do."

o O o

How do we know Gollum is even still alive? It's been nearly sixteen years since Gandalf first asked for my help, and neither of us has found anything in all that time. Aragorn sagged down against one of the few stunted trees that still grew in the Dead Marshes. The constant watchfulness required this close to Mordor was beginning to wear him down, and his food supplies had run out the previous morning. If Gollum is still alive, then he's too clever for even me to catch. There is nothing more I can do here, and even if there were, I doubt I could do it at the moment.

Forcing himself to get back on his feet, he began the long, treacherous path out of the Marshes. Suddenly, something caught his eye; the mark of feet by one of the pools, a track severely out of place in this harsh landscape. Crouching down, he studied the footprints, noting their size, depth, and direction. they were rather large, but barely made a dent in the soft ground, and were obviously not wearing any kind of shoe, all key characteristics in the tracks of a Hobbit--Or a Hobbit-like creature. Maintaining his crouch, he moved away from the tracks, down the only path through the Marshes, following the small disturbances in the soggy ground and sickly grasses that signaled someone had passed this way recently.

Nearly half an hour later, the Ranger froze, eyes fixed on his prey. A small, gangly creature wearing only a tattered loincloth was crouched next to a pool, snacking on a handful of bugs he seemed to have gathered from the soil, and staring intently at the fish circling in the water in front of him. Suddenly, he lunged, snatched one, and instantly ripped off a bite with his sharp teeth.

Ignoring the small lurch that the sudden, brutal death of the fish gave him, Aragorn moved forward over the boggy ground, stalking as only the finest hunter could, until he was barely six feet behind Gollum. Holding his breath, he waited for Gollum to tear another bite form the poor fish, then he lunged, swirling his cloak over the creature's head and wrapping an arm around the screeching, flailing bundle. Wincing a little as Gollum's hard feet slammed into his knee, he pulled a rope from his belt pouch and managed to secure his captive. But Gollum was far from finished. As Aragorn pulled his cloak from around the creature's head, Gollum lunged and sank his teeth into the Ranger's hand, snarling like a rabid beast. He lashed out with a foot as the man tried to grab the back of his neck, catching the Ranger in the stomach. Aragorn doubled over with pain, but managed to reach out and lock the fingers of his free hand under the hinge of Gollum's jaw and pry his teeth apart. All right, that's it. I've had just about enough of this already. Planting his knee firmly on Gollum's chest, he gagged the snarling creature and took hold of the long end of the rope. Narrowing his keen eyes dangerously at his prisoner, he stood up and growled, "Move."