Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own the story, the characters, or setting.
Author's Note: I have always been intrigued by this scene in the movie. I would wonder why Gollum saved Frodo, what Frodo was thinking when he discovered it was Gollum that had saved him, what Sam thought of the whole thing. This story is my own answer to those questions. This is my second story where I write a scene from the movie from several points of views. Please let me know what you think.
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Save
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Part 1: Why Did I Save Him?
We carefully test the ground with our fingers and weight. Careful hobbits must be. Yesssssss, they do not want to fall with the ground and join the dead ones. Good Smeagol will take them safely through the marshes; yessssss, we will, Preciousssss…
"Frodo!" The fat hobbit calls, panic in his voice.
Master? We turn sharply and see master fall into the water. The fat hobbit rushes toward where master fell. If hobbit not careful, he will also fall in.
But I do not move. A memory… a splash… he came up, choking from the water and what my hands had done. He looked at me once – confusion, anger, accusation, and sorrow in his eyes. I did not notice though. Instead I tenderly brushed my fingers against the gold. So smooth, so shiny, so beautiful.
I stare at where master fell in; water settles but master does not appear.
Deagol did not appear…
We rush back to the fat hobbit and start searching too, peering into the water. Where is master?
We must find him, then take back our Precious. Quick we will be, like with Deagol.
No! I promised to help master. He is my friend.
We hates him, we hate Bagginsssss. We hate Deagol! He refused to give It to us.
"No, no," I whimper as I keep crawling, sticking my neck far out, trying to find master.
Deagol…I'm sorry…
I thrust my hand in the slimy water. Something brushes my hand; it burns me. Master! I grab hold and pull. Master comes up, coughing and gagging. He does nothing to help bring himself up from the water. I grab his vest with my other hand and drag him to the edge of the water, then heave him up onto the land. Once we are safely away from the water and on firm ground, I let go of master.
Master turns to me, his face pale.
"Gollum?"
"Don't follow the lights," I say.
I place my hand on the ground and hiss sharply in pain; my poor hand still burns from the nasty elf-cloak. I look at master. He blinks. I notice the fat hobbit rushing towards us. He glares at me warningly. Fearful, I turn and scamper away, my progress slowed as I try to cradle my injured hand.
"Gollum?" I hear master, confused, call to me.
"Mister Frodo?" the fat hobbit asks anxiously. "Are you all right?"
I can feel his burning eyes following me. I did not hurt master! Why does fat hobbit always try to cause us trouble? Something wet slides down my face. What is it? But I don't dwell on it. Why did I save master?
You had a chance to redeem yourself.
I turn my head sharply to the left and right. No one is there. Who said that?
"I am sorry, Deagol." I feel more wet things glide down my face. What are they, Precious?