Voices

By Laura Schiller

Based on: The Hobbit

Copyright: JRR Tolkien's estate/New Line Cinema

"What … has it got … in its … nasty … little … pocketses?"

From the quiet, simmering rage in Gollum's voice, Bilbo knew that the creature had already guessed. His hand went into his left coat pocket with instinctive guilt. He had always been a respectable hobbit; the sensation of keeping something that didn't belong to him was as uncomfortable as anything on this journey so far, including saddle sores, troll claws and sleeping on stone.

Give it back, prompted his conscience. I don't even need it. Give it back.

I won't, whispered another voice inside of him, a small, stubborn voice as hard as a pebble in his shoe. I didn't steal it, I picked it up off the ground. It's mine as much as this fellow's; who knows where he picked it up from in the first place?

But if I give it back, he argued to himself, Maybe he'll show me the way out.

Don't count on it, Bilbo Baggins, he thought cynically. He – it – already wants to eat you whole, remember? If it finds out you have his precious, that will only whet its appetite!

But he's desperate for it … Bilbo remembered Gollum's scream only a moment ago, his frantic search among the bones and rubbish of his cave. It seems cruel to keep it away from him now.

At that moment, Gollum began to turn. His eyes glowed a phosphorescent white in the shadows of the cave, narrowed into slits of fury and suspicion.

"That's none of your concern," Bilbo answered, holding up his sword and backing away.

You see? thought Bilbo – or something else. He's completely mad. Forget about the ring, you idiot. RUN!

And run he did, with Gollum in pursuit, scrambling through the rocky tunnels just as his companions were doing in a different part of the mountain. He was bewildered for a moment when the ring fell into his finger and Gollum ran directly past him, but at least that made sense, as much as anything made sense in a world of dragons,. wizard-fire and moon letters. This ring must have the power of turning its wearer invisible. No wonder Gollum needed it so much.

By the cave door, just as Gandalf and the dwarves were running through it, Bilbo hesitated once again. Gollum was crouching right in front of that door. The moment Bilbo tried to get past him, he would sense it, ring or no ring, and despite his emaciation, the creature was much stronger than it looked.

Bilbo saw Thorin stride past, his long hair tangled and filthy; Gandalf stooping to get through the low arch; Dwalin supporting his elder brother with an arm across his shoulders; Bombur lagging breathlessly behind. They needed food and rest; perhaps some of them were injured. It would be so easy to follow them, if only that confounded creature were out of the way.

One sweep of his elvish blade would put them both out of their misery – Bilbo to join his companions, and Gollum to a more more peaceful rest than he'd doubtless had in a very long time.

It would be easy. Go on. One cut, before it's too late.

Bilbo lifted his sword, took aim … and paused.

His adversary, without knowing it, was looking right into his face, and his eyes were blue. Not white like a fish's, as he had supposed earlier, but blue – a man's eyes, or a hobbit's.

They were overflowing with tears.

A different voice rose up inside of Bilbo, the well-remembered, well-beloved voice of one of the greatest men he knew. True courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one.

With a conentrated effort, he pushed the impulse to kill away from his mind, took a running start, and jumped.