Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story…not even the shoes the characters wear!
This story was written for my best friend Krystyn (KrystynAngelOfLight) to exemplify the stream-of-consciousness style. It is told from the point of view of Gollum, so it is intentionally hard to understand (since I haven't differentiated between his two personalities, although I did set them apart in paragraphs). I wanted to present an accurate picture of what is going on in Gollum's head as he leads Frodo and Sam to Cirith Ungol. Everything he says is in quotes, the rest are his thoughts.
This road is to the dead city, yes. I remember…. Scared. Running…running…like shadow. Hiding, hiding from orcses. Hiding from nasty men. Always careful, watching over shoulderses. Follow the road. Stay in shadows, like we did before. Yes, that is the way.
NO!! They doesn't know! They walk on the road! No! "This way, hobbitses.
Road is not safe. Like shadows we must be." They come to Smeagol….yes…they
trusts Smeagol.
Careful. We must not get too attached. The one hobbit, he still has the precious.
The precious!
Yes, love. The precious! Has Smeagol forgotten the plan?
The plan, yes! Our plan!
We leads the hobbitses to her.
And she will do it.
Yes precious, she will!
And when she does?
We takes it for US!
Yes love, for us!
He shouts! The fat hobbit! We gets too far ahead, precious…he suspects us! Haste, love. We must have haste! "Hurry, hobbitses. Keep up!"
The stairs! We have found them! "Here, hobbitses! The secret way! Climb!"
Careful, careful. Caution. Scared. Steep. Must be careful. Long way. Climb! Stay close, close to rock and stone. Stay hidden. We must climb, climb like shadow. Long way.
The hobbitses have trouble. They is slow, the one is fat. They will be tired, love, tired from the climb. Not able to fight, love.
Yes.
She will have an easy time, love. Kill them quickly.
Yes, yes!
Then it will be ours!
Climb, climb higher. Almost there. Hobbitses are far below, far, far. The top. Yes. Grab, pull. Hard. Almost. Almost. Rest, now, yes precious. Reeessstttt….
What is it, precious? The hobbitses. They makes it. Its master, he comes first. Yes. "Come to Smeagol, master."
The precious! The precious! He does not notice it, precious! There it is! Around his neck, it is! So beautiful! So lovely. It's ours, it is! Ours! We is reaching for it…we needs to have it. Ack! He notices! No matter, there it is! So close…so close! Just…touch…it!
No, love!
What?
No, he is master. We swore to serve master. He says don't touch precious.
What is it saying? Is Smeagol losing his nerve?
N….no…never! Not now, though! Don't take it now! He will fall, precious!
So?
Fear. Afraid, we is! Because! The fat one will kill us!
Yes, he will, love. Smeagol is right. Master is slipping. Take his hand! Pull. He is light, he doesn't eat. Pity.
What is that, precious?
Fear. Can't have precious now, love. We must wait.
Yes. Wait. To the tunnel.
The tunnel, yes. "This way, hobbitses. In here, master!"
*end*
Well, I hope you liked my little exercise. See, I can write stories that aren't parodies!
Krystyn: this is pure stream-of-consciousness writing, although it is different because there are two distinct personalities.