Disclaimer: I don't own a thing – and the world is probably really grateful.
Starring: Smeagol/Gollum
Author's Note: Because their relationship is so twisted and dependant. An experiment in character studying – Gollum is in italics and Smeagol thinks/speaks in normal non-italics.
Summary: In which Gollum introduces Smeagol to the finer things in his new life.
_oO
(dinner)
What's wrong Precious? Why did you let the fish go?
We do not want nasty fishes. We want, we want – little round things that shine and taste like open spaces.
We do not want berries my Precious. They are filled with sharp thorns. Fishes are cold to the throat, juicy to the bite and filling to the appetite. Berries are not always plentiful – there are always lots of fishes in the waters, are there not?
Yes. There are always lots of fishes in the waters…
Then catches the fish Precious.
(home)
Something wrong Precious?
We remember other tunnels, back – back out in the bright. We miss the smoothness of the dirt, the warmth of the voices. We remember the pranks, we do.
Are our tunnels not good enough for you?
No no, we looked so long for our new tunnels! Our tunnels are lovely! Smeagol is being silly, not knowing what he is saying.
So very foolish Precious. Our tunnels are cool from the bright, help make us strong will not-smooth paths and have many secrets to discover – like Deagol. Do we remember our secrets?
Yes, secrets.
Our tunnels will keep all of our secrets sage Precious… and there are goblins nearby to tease and taunt.
Goblins?
Nasty, nasty little soldiers of the dark. They have many secrets that we must have.
I like secrets!
I know, Precious.
(story)
Why are you crying Precious?
We miss the voices.
There are already voices, all in your head.
But we remember the voices that told stories Precious, out in the bright in the soft not-dirt. That the withered one would say.
I know stories Precious.
Really? What kind of stories?
Secret stories, stories that only special ones hear. Some stories even I don't know.
There are those kind of stories?
Yes Precious. There are.
Would they tell us the stories?
It is a long way to have her speak them.
But then we could both have a story!
Perhaps Precious.
(play)
What makes you listless Precious?
We remember fishing, but not like this, with fingers. We remember filching sweetness and running through tall grass. We remember… mischief.
They will not let you back Precious. You are not good to your friends.
But perhaps, maybe…
You are a murderer, Precious. You can't have friends.
I hate you.
No you don't Precious.
Yes. Yes I do.
What's that noise on the shore?
Goblins?
Goblins won't travel this far Precious. They don't trust the tunnels like we do. Sneaky, Precious, the noise is sneaky, tricksy.
It doesn't sound like goblins...
Maybe it belongs with the trespassers to our tunnels.
Will it play with me Precious?
Yes Precious. It will play with you.
(apology)
We're sorry Precious, for name-calling.
We're forgiven Precious.