His tale ended. He had entered the Misty Mountains, and there he had dwelled for centuries. He told of his birthday morning, how he came to go fishing with his cousin, Déagol. Then the finding of the One Ring came into play, and it was as though a dark cloud settled over everyone in the cave. His descent into madness caused even Sam to cringe as Sméagol once again fell to tears, only to again be comforted by Frodo.

"Sméagol…" Frodo began. "I…I had no idea…" And he was at a loss for words. Sam's jaw failed to work; he only shook his head, why was arguable. "Gandalf told me your life was a sad story. But I, I just didn't know."

Sam looked up, and for the first time, he, too, was beginning to tear up, a single droplet rolling down his cheek. "I apologize, Sméagol. I… I had no idea what you've been through." He then looked down at the cave floor, mind no doubt whirring in intense thought. "And, well, I guess I'm sorry for everything else, too. I judged you before I knew you. I should know better."

Sméagol nodded, then swallowed in concentrated thought. "I'm sorry for biting you." Sam smirked, then nodded back. An understanding had been reached. Frodo stared at his companion in his arms. Telling the story made him paranoid, eyes darting from one corner of the cave to another, but it did seem to help. The truth was out; no secrets appeared to be held in that thin interior.

"Master forgives me?" Sméagol finally asked, after a long and cold silence. Frodo didn't answer for several minutes, but then shook his head strongly. "No," he said, and Sméagol's heart nearly stopped. "Because you didn't do it." And then he felt the Ring inside his shirt, and his eyes narrowed.

"None of this is your fault. Gollum did this, and he's gone now, isn't he?" he asked, and gazed back. Sméagol swallowed, then curtly nodded. "Never, ever, come back." With another hug, eyes moist, Frodo swallowed as well. Kissing him gently on the forehead, he smiled. "Sam…?" he asked, hoping for a good response from his friend.

"I'll give him a chance," Sam responded. "If that ol' Gollum is gone, like you say, then…then I suppose…." Trailing off, he looked at the pale and scrawny being, a being who was slowly redeeming himself. He wasn't lying; Sam could feel it in the air, he could see it in his eyes.

"Then…I suppose we can work this out. We can try." Frodo nodded at his friend. Well said.

"Now," said Frodo, breaking the ice. "Let's look at those teeth again."Bringing him closer to the firelight, Sam and Frodo began to look thoroughly into his mouth. Indeed, new molars and incisors were beginning to spring up through his gums.

Some of the old ones had been knocked loose by the fall, and were beginning to rock back and forth and come out. Sam helped dislodge one by doing just that. With a little bit of pain, it popped out of its unhealthy spot in Sméagol's gums. Their patient closed his eyes hard as it was delicately extracted. Blood worked its way out of the cavity and into his mouth. When out, Sam held the tooth to the fire light to study it. It was filed to a point, but suspiciously had not a single cavity. It looked discolored and rotten, however.

A little distraught by its appearance, Sam flung it into the fire in disgust. He checked theothers, but that was all. Frodo brought over some water and handed it to him so that he might wash out his bloody mouth. Sméagol then spit out the blood, coughing slightly.

"They feel better now…" he remarked.

Wiping some drool from his chin, Sméagol sat back on his haunches with the other two, a look of embarrassment in his eyes. Frodo smiled back. "Good! Just in time to eat, then!" Sméagol perked up, and a happy light came to his eyes. "Eat! Sméagol is hungry!" And as he said that, he crawled on over and beside his master.

"Indeed, I would imagine," Frodo responded, staring openly at his exposed ribcage. Sméagol looked back at Sam to reply, and gave him his newly altered smile.

"Yes, Sméagol is always hungry...." He was still referring to himself in the third person. That particular habit, it seemed, hadn't gone away.

"Always?" Sam repeated, a bit amazed.

Sméagol nodded in confirmation, smile fading just a bit. Then he looked back to Frodo.

"Nice fishes?"

Frodo looked past him to Sam, who sighed, then nodded. He had walked towards the fishing pool to see if he could grab a few, but they all scattered before he could even try, all making their way to the deep end where it was safe. He had hoped Sméagol wouldwake up soon and fish for them, and now he had the opportunity to ask. The frying pan had been sizzling hot water for hours now, and he was anxious to get some real food in his stomach.

"Yes, fish. But you need to catch them. Do you mind?"

Sméagol looked back to him in response. "Sméagol try, where is sweet, juicy fishes?" he asked in a rather excited tone. Sam pointed to the pool, and watched as Sméagol got up and slowly and awkwardly crawled into the said direction. Curious, both hobbits followed to watch the spectacle. But it was the fatter hobbit who seemed to pay special attention.

Sméagol sidled up to the edge of the pool, peering down into the clear yet deep body of water. His right hand raised, slowly, meticulously, and stayed elevated above the surface for several minutes. Then it became a blur as it dipped into the water, and he lurched forward up to his shoulder. He was careful to keep his head up and not ruin the recent bathing job, however. He was still partially wrapped in the blanket, his locks of hair still moist and drying.

Then he pulled back almost just as fast, and in his hand was a small trout. It squirmed in his grasp and tried desperately to escape. Sméagol was an expert at this, however, and carefully gripped tighter to prevent such a thing. Before either Frodo or Sam could compliment him, he took the fish and whacked it heavily upon the nearby rock. Both hobbits flinched from the brutality. but accepted the odd method of incapacitating their meal.

He looked about ready to bite into it, but instead handed it to the unwilling Sam standing next to him. "One fissssh," he hissed, and he went back to his duty. Sam was amazed that he was able to pull four more 'juicy fish' from the cavern pool before they became wise and retreated to the bottom. Sméagol sighed, hoping for enough for a satisfying dinner.

"I can help, I suppose…" Sam said, kneeling down beside him. Sméagol looked up in surprise, not having expected that in the least. His gaze returned to his prey.

"Nice hobbit know how to fish?" he asked kindly. With a frown, Sam shook his head. "Can't say I do, at least your way." Sméagol cocked his head to the side. "Kind Sméagol shows. Watch…" And he proceeded to try and catch a fish that strayed closer to the top. Watching closely, Sam took note on how he expertly timed the fish's retreat to his grab. He, as always, caught the slimy animal and managed to kill it upon the rocks.

"Sam try, we'll scare them," he said happily, and he walked to the opposite end, sticking his hand down deep and scattering them more towards the surface. Sam bit his lip and reached down deep into the water, deathly afraid of falling in, and he almost did. He forgot about his sleeve, and got it all wet. A fish was in his grasp, however, but it slipped out as he tried to haul it out of the water. He groaned in disappointment and anger. Sméagol chuckled a bit. "Not so easy, is it?" he asked. "Try again!" And so Sam, discouraged but not a quitter, rolled up his sleeves and did just that. He missed, then again, and then finally got one.

With a look of slight apprehension, he took out a small pan fish from the water. "Kills it!" Sméagol cried urgently. "Or it'll get away!" Taking Sméagol's advice, albeit reluctantly, Sam dashed it on the ground and managed to get fish blood all over his hands, but the deed was done. He continued until twelve fish had been caught. The wiry being danced the same way he had when he gave the conies to Frodo, albeit more

restrained and jerkily, careful of his injuries, and then sat before his fatter friend. "…Did it, did it! Smart hobbit, clever hobbit!" Washing his hands off in the water, Sam felt a new appreciation for Sméagol. It wasn't easy, and to imagine, he had to do that all day, every day of his life. He looked up, and Frodo smiled at him. "Why Sam, I think Sméagol just taught you how to fish!" And Sam had to smile back when he thought of it. Part of his fear of water had been nixed, and he didn't even know it. Sméagol actually taught him something, gave him something, and didn't ask for anything back.

Indeed, he had.