(The rewritten version of the death of Deagol)
"Look Smeagol! Come look! See what's in the water!" shouted Deagol.
He and his best friend, Smeagol, were out by the riverbank, when Deagol suddenly saw something shining in the water. The two of them enjoyed sitting along the riverbank, with the slight breeze, the slight rush of the clear river water, and the bright green grass that almost reached your knees (if you were a hobbit). It was still morning and it was a sunny day. There was a slight breeze, as winter started to fade, and the newcoming of spring arrived.
Deagol pointed at something in the water below, but Smeagol couldn't see what it was, despite the fact that it was at an arm's length away. Suddenly, Deagol plunged his hand into the water, and grabbed the object.
"What is it, Deagol?" asked Smeagol, as he looked at what seemed to be a golden ring.
"I don't know."
"I want to have a closer look, Deagol."
"No! I found it."
"Just let me have a closer look"
"No! It's mine, I found it! I won't let you touch it."
"Give it to me, Deagol."
"No! It's mine! And anyways, I'm planning to give it to someone."
"Then who is it you're giving it too?"
"I'm not telling you. It's none of your business. It's to someone special, and I don't want you to go looking for this ring from that person."
So then, the two hobbits started to argue about the ring, and they had a fight. Smeagol grabbed at Deagol's hand, but Deagol wouldn't let go. They kept at it for another minute, until suddenly, Smeagol got hold of the ring, and pushed Deagol into the rushing river. He held him down tight, while Deagol kept struggling just below the surface. Then, Deagol stopped struggling, and lay still, eyes closed. Then when Smeagol let go of Deagol's unmoving body, it slowly floated up to the surface, and drifted along the river. Smeagol watched slowly as Deagol turned around a slow curve, and was out of sight. Then it came to him that he had killed his best friend, just for a ring. Then he looked down into his hand and stroked the ring as if it were the most precious thing to him in the world. He kept stroking it until all the mud, sand, and decomposing leaves were cleared off. Smeagol was momentarily consumed by its shine and its hidden power.
He slipped it onto his finger.
"Look Smeagol! Come look! See what's in the water!" shouted Deagol.
He and his best friend, Smeagol, were out by the riverbank, when Deagol suddenly saw something shining in the water. The two of them enjoyed sitting along the riverbank, with the slight breeze, the slight rush of the clear river water, and the bright green grass that almost reached your knees (if you were a hobbit). It was still morning and it was a sunny day. There was a slight breeze, as winter started to fade, and the newcoming of spring arrived.
Deagol pointed at something in the water below, but Smeagol couldn't see what it was, despite the fact that it was at an arm's length away. Suddenly, Deagol plunged his hand into the water, and grabbed the object.
"What is it, Deagol?" asked Smeagol, as he looked at what seemed to be a golden ring.
"I don't know."
"I want to have a closer look, Deagol."
"No! I found it."
"Just let me have a closer look"
"No! It's mine, I found it! I won't let you touch it."
"Give it to me, Deagol."
"No! It's mine! And anyways, I'm planning to give it to someone."
"Then who is it you're giving it too?"
"I'm not telling you. It's none of your business. It's to someone special, and I don't want you to go looking for this ring from that person."
So then, the two hobbits started to argue about the ring, and they had a fight. Smeagol grabbed at Deagol's hand, but Deagol wouldn't let go. They kept at it for another minute, until suddenly, Smeagol got hold of the ring, and pushed Deagol into the rushing river. He held him down tight, while Deagol kept struggling just below the surface. Then, Deagol stopped struggling, and lay still, eyes closed. Then when Smeagol let go of Deagol's unmoving body, it slowly floated up to the surface, and drifted along the river. Smeagol watched slowly as Deagol turned around a slow curve, and was out of sight. Then it came to him that he had killed his best friend, just for a ring. Then he looked down into his hand and stroked the ring as if it were the most precious thing to him in the world. He kept stroking it until all the mud, sand, and decomposing leaves were cleared off. Smeagol was momentarily consumed by its shine and its hidden power.
He slipped it onto his finger.