A/N: This chapter is dedicated to ArwenAria18 who has been pestering me to work on this even though it was hard. Have you ever tried to make Gollum and an Elf get along?! Don't try it, it's ridiculously hard. Anywho, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. **AS**

Chapter 29: Sméagol

The four friends picked their steps away from the skirts of the cliff, among a wilderness of boulders and rough stones, wet and slippery with the heavy rain. The ground still fell away sharply. They had not gone very far when they came upon a great fissure that yawned suddenly black before their feet. It was not wide, but it was too wide to jump across in the dim light. They thought they could hear water gurgling in its depths. It curved away on their left northward, back towards the hills, and so barred their road in that direction, at any rate while darkness lasted.
"I think we should try back southward along the line of the cliff," Galareal said, looking across the landscape with his keen eyes. "We may find some shelter there."
"I suppose so," Frodo sighed. "I'm tried, and I don't think I can scramble among stones much longer tonight - though I grudge the delay. I wish there was a clear path in front of us: then I'd go on till my legs gave way."
"We know you would, Frodo," Aria said gently, placing a kind hand on his shoulder. "But you need rest, as do we. The path will be clearer in the morning."
"I hope so," Frodo murmured.

They did not find the going any easier at the broken feet of the Emyn Muil. Nor did they find any nook or hollow to shelter in: only bare stony slopes frowned over by the cliff, which now rose again, higher and more sheer as they went back. In the end, worn out, they cast themselves on the ground under the lee of a boulder lying not far from the foot of the precipice. There for some time they sat huddled mournfully together in the cold stony night, while sleep crept upon them in spite of all they could do to hold it off. The moon now rode high and clear. Its thin white light lit up the faces of the rocks and drenched the cold frowning walls of the cliff, turning all the wide looming darkness into a chill pale grey scorched with black shadows.
"You three get some rest, I will take up first watch," Galareal said, climbing to his feet.
"Are you sure?" Sam asked, frowning.
"Of course I am sure," Galareal replied with a smile. "I am an Elf, and do not require as much rest as you Hobbits."
The Hobbits and Aria drifted off to sleep, but they had only slept for a few minutes when Galareal gently shook Frodo awake.
"I am sorry to wake you, Frodo, but I fear Gollum has tracked us down," the Elf whispered.
Frodo sat up quickly. "What do you mean?"
The Elf pointed silently to the cliff. Down the face of a precipice, sheer and almost smooth it seemed in the pale moonlight, a small black shape was moving with its thin limbs splayed out. Maybe its soft clinging hands and toes were finding crevices and holds that no hobbit could ever have seen or used, but it looked as if it was just creeping down on sticky pads, like some prowling thing of insect-kind. And it was coming down head first, as if it was smelling its way. Now and again it lifted its head slowly, turning it right back on its long skinny neck, and the hobbit caught a glimpse of two small pale gleaming lights, its eyes that blinked at the moon for a moment and then were quickly lidded again.
"That is him alright," Frodo said grimly. "Sam, get up, we have trouble."
Sam sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What is it, Mister Frodo?"
"Gollum," Frodo whispered, pointing to the cliff.
Sam's eyes narrowed and he stiffened as he watched the creature's descent. "Do you think he can see us?" he whispered.
"I doubt it," Galareal replied quietly. "Even friendly eyes have trouble seeing these elven-cloaks. And Gollum does not like Sun or Moon."
"Then why is he coming down here?" asked Sam.
"Quietly, Sam!" said Frodo. "He can smell us, perhaps. And he can hear as keen as Elves, I believe. I think he has heard something now: our voices probably. We did a lot of shouting away back there; and we were talking far too loudly until a minute ago."
"Well, I'm sick of him," said Sam. "He's come once too often for me, and I'm going to have a word with him, if I can. I don't suppose we could give him the slip now anyway." Drawing his grey hood well over his face, Sam made as if to creep towards the cliff.
"No, Sam," Galareal said quietly, placing a firm hand on the hobbit's arm. "I have met this creature before, let me catch him."
"Let him go," Aria whispered. She had lain awake for a while, listening to their conversation. "Let Sam go and do what he will, it will be alright."
Galareal looked at her skeptically, but relinquished his hold on Sam. The Hobbit slunk stealthily towards the cliff.
"Galareal, watch Aria, I'm going with Sam," Frodo whispered, slipping away after his friend.
Galareal was about to argue, but Aria silenced him. "It will be alright, trust me," she said quietly. "And besides, Gollum hates Elves. If he saw you, who knows what could happen."
Galareal glanced at the figure of Gollum crawling down the wall. I have an idea, the Elf thought with a grim smile. He had met Gollum when Aragorn brought him to Mirkwood to be guarded. Galareal had been fascinated by the poor creature, and had often visited him, wisely staying outside the cell. At first Gollum had hissed and cursed Galareal, retreating to the back of his cell and ignoring the Elf's attempts at conversation. But slowly Gollum began to talk back, especially when Galareal brought him fish. It cannot be said that the two became friends, but Gollum was secretly thankful to have someone to talk to. Too long he had slunk around in the bowels of a mountain, keeping to himself, and a friendly voice, albeit belonging to an Elf, was a welcome change.

The black crawling shape was now three-quarters of the way down, and perhaps fifty feet or less above the cliff's foot. Crouching stone-still in the shadow of a large boulder, Sam and Frodo watched him. He seemed to have come to a difficult passage or to be troubled about something. They could hear him snuffling, and now and again there was a harsh hiss of breath that sounded like a curse. He lifted his head, and they thought they heard him spit. Then he moved on again. Now they could hear his voice creaking and whistling.
"Ach, sss! Cautious, my precious! More haste less speed. We mussn't rissk our neck, musst we, precious? No, precious - gollum!" He lifted his head again, blinked at the moon, and quickly shut his eyes. "We hate it," he hissed. "Nassty, nassty shivery light it is -sss- it spies on us, precious - it hurtss our eyess."
He was getting lower now and the hisses became sharper and clearer. "Where iss it, where iss it: my precious, my precious? It's ours, it is, and we wants it. The thieves, the thieves, the filthy little thieves. Where are they with my precious? Curse them! We hates them."
"It doesn't sound as if he knew we were here, does it?" whispered Sam. "And what's his precious? Does he mean the --"
"Hush!" breathed Frodo. "He's getting near now, near enough to hear a whisper."
Indeed Gollum had suddenly paused again, and his large head on its scrawny neck was lolling from side to side as if he was listening. His pale eyes were half un-lidded. Sam restrained himself, though his fingers were twitching. His eyes, filled with anger and disgust, were fixed on the wretched creature as he now began to move again, still whispering and hissing to himself.
At last he was no more than a dozen feet from the ground, right above their heads. From that point there was a sheer drop, for the cliff was slightly undercut, and even Gollum could not find a hold of any kind. He seemed to be trying to twist round, so as to go legs first, when suddenly with a shrill whistling shriek he fell. Aria gasped, but Gollum curled his legs and arms up round him, like a spider whose descending thread is snapped.
Sam was out of his hiding in a flash and crossed the space between him and the cliff-foot in a couple of leaps. Before Gollum could get up, he was on top of him. But he found Gollum more than he bargained for, even taken like that, suddenly, off his guard after a fall. Before Sam could get a hold, long legs and arms were wound round him pinning his arms, and a clinging grip, soft but horribly strong, was squeezing him like slowly tightening cords; clammy fingers were feeling for his throat. Then sharp teeth bit into his shoulder. All he could do was to butt his hard round head sideways into the creature's face. Gollum hissed and spat, but he did not let go.
Galareal grabbed his bow and made as if to rise, but Aria pulled him back down. "Not yet," she hissed. "They can handle him." Galareal glanced at Gollum and Sam doubtfully, but stayed where he was.
Things would have gone ill with Sam, but Frodo sprang up, and drew Sting from his sheath. With his left hand he drew back Gollum's head by its thin lank hair, stretching its long neck, and forcing his pale venomous eyes to stare at the sky.
"Let go! Gollum," he said. "This is Sting. You have seen it before once upon a time. Let go, or you'll feel it this time! I'll cut your throat."
Gollum collapsed and went as loose as wet string. Sam got up, fingering his shoulder. His eyes smoldered with anger, but he could not avenge himself: his miserable enemy lay groveling in the stones whimpering.
"Don't hurt us! Don't let them hurt us, precious! They won't hurt us will they, nice little hobbitses? We didn't mean no harm, but they jumps on us like cats on poor mices, they did, precious. And we're so lonely, gollum. We'll be nice to them, very nice, if they'll be nice to us, won't we, yes, yess."
"Well, what's to be done with it?" said Sam. "Tie it up, so as it can't come sneaking after us no more, I say."
"But that would kill us, kill us," whimpered Gollum. "Cruel little hobbitses. Tie us up in the cold hard lands and leave us, gollum, gollum." Sobs welled up in his gobbling throat.
"No," said Frodo. "If we kill him, we must kill him outright. But we can't do that, not as things are. Poor wretch! He has done us no harm."
"Oh hasn't he!" said Sam rubbing his shoulder. "Anyway he meant to, and he means to, I'll warrant. Throttle us in our sleep, that's his plan."
"I daresay," said Frodo. "But what he means to do is another matter." He paused for a while in thought. Gollum lay still, but stopped whimpering. Sam stood glowering over him. Aria came up quietly, Galareal still back at the boulder.
"Frodo?"
Frodo turned to Aria. "Yes, Alfirin?"
"What are you going to do with Gollum?" she asked quietly.
"I do not know," he answered, glancing back at the creature. "Now that I see him I pity him, and I am not sure how to act. He certainly deserves death."
"Of course he deserves death," Aria said quietly. "Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. But can you give it to them? Than do not be to hasty to deal out death in judgment. Remember, not even the very wise can see all ends."
Frodo looked at her, a slight smile on his face. "If I didn't know better I would say you have been talking with Gandalf. But you are right, we cannot kill him, nor can we let him go." Frodo turned to Gollum. "We will let you live, but we will not set you free. You're full of wickedness and mischief, Gollum. You will have to come with us, that's all, while we keep an eye on you. But you must help us, if you can. One good turn deserves another."
"Yess, yes indeed," said Gollum sitting up. "Nice hobbits! We will come with them. Find them safe paths in the dark, yes we will. And where are they going in these cold hard lands, we wonders, yes we wonders?" He looked up at them, and a faint light of cunning and eagerness flickered for a second in his pale blinking eyes.
Frodo looked straight into Gollum's eyes which flinched and twisted away. "You know that, or you guess well enough, Sméagol," he said, quietly and sternly. "We are going to Mordor, of course. And you know the way there, I believe."
"Ach! sss!" spat Gollum, covering his ears with his hands, as if such frankness, and the open speaking of the names hurt him. "We guessed, yes we guessed," he whispered; "and we didn't want them to go, did we? No, precious, not the nice hobbits. Ashes, ashes, and dust, and thirst there is; and pits, pits, pits, and Orcs, thousands of Orcses. Nice hobbits mustn't go to -sss- those places."
"So you have been there?" Frodo insisted. "And you're being drawn back there, aren't you?"
"Yess. Yess. No!" shrieked Gollum. "Once, by accident it was, wasn't it, precious? Yes, by accident. But we won't go back, no, no!" Then suddenly his voice and language changed, and he sobbed in his throat and spoke, but not to them. "Leave me alone, gollum! You hurt me. O my poor hands, gollum! I, we, I don't want to come back. I can't find it. I am tired. I, we can't find it, gollum, gollum, no, nowhere. They're always awake. Dwarves, Men, and Elves, terrible Elves with bright eyes. I can't find it. Ach!" He got up and clenched his long hand into a bony fleshless knot, shaking it towards the East. "We won't!" he cried. "Not for you!" Then he collapsed again. "Gollum, gollum," he whimpered with his face to the ground. "Don't look at us! Go away! Go to sleep!"
"He will not go away or go to sleep at your command, Sméagol," said Frodo. "But if you really wish to be free of him again, then you must help me. And that I fear means finding us a path towards him. But you need not go all the way, not beyond the gates of his land."
Gollum sat up again and looked at him under his eyelids. "He's over there," he cackled. "Always there. Orcs will take you all the way. Easy to find Orcs east of the River. Don't ask Sméagol. Poor, poor Sméagol, he went away long ago. They took his Precious, and he's lost now."
"Perhaps we'll find him again, if you come with us," said Frodo.
"No, no, never! He's lost his Precious," said Gollum.
"Get up!" said Frodo.
Gollum stood up and backed away against the cliff.
"Now!" said Frodo. "Can you find a path easier by day or by night? We're tired; but if you choose the night, we'll start tonight."
"The big lights hurt our eyes, they do," Gollum whined. "Not under the White Face, not yet. It will go behind the hills soon, yess. Rest a bit first, nice hobbits!"
"Then sit down," said Frodo, "and don't move!"
Frodo and Sam sat down on either side of Gollum, their backs to the stony wall, resting their legs. Aria slipped away to speak with Galareal.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Frodo was right in letting the poor creature live, he is our only chance of getting through the marshes alive," Galareal said, resting his back against a boulder.
"Yes, but what about you?" Aria asked. "Gollum hates Elves, what will happen when he sees you?"
Galareal smiled. "You may be surprised. I have spoken with Gollum, and I think he possibly will bear my presence. But he will not bear my eyes. I shall have to wear my hood all the time."
Aria eyed Galareal thoughtfully. "Somehow I think you are not telling me the whole story," she said with a half-smile.
"No, I am not," Galareal smiled. "Though if you wish, I will tell you the tale."
Aria nodded eagerly, for she loved stories and had no other way to pass the time. Galareal told her about his talks with Gollum, and Aria shivered as she listened. Slowly the moon went by. Shadows fell down from the hills, and all grew dark before them. The stars grew thick and bright in the sky above. Suddenly Aria and Galareal heard what sounded like a scuffle, followed by a thin tearing scream. They leapt to their feet and rushed to where Frodo and Sam were standing over Gollum. Nothing seemed to be wrong with the creature, but he had Sam's rope about his ankle and he was screaming and tearing at it. Swiftly Galareal bent and undid the rope, handing it back to Sam.
"It was made by Elves," he explained. "Gollum hates Elves so much that anything made by them pains him."
Frodo looked down at the pitiful creature who sat gollum-ing and rubbing his ankle. "He tried to escape, so we thought it best to bind his ankle so he would not escape again," said the Hobbit. "Now how we will be sure he won't escape?"
Galareal knelt so that he was level with Gollum. He had thoughtfully put on his hood so Gollum could not see his eyes, but Gollum still knew he was an Elf. "Listen, Sméagol," Galareal said sternly, "we must make sure you will not run away, and we obviously cannot bind you, so you must make a promise."
Gollum hissed and spat at Galareal. "Nassty Elf! We won't make promise to nassty Elf, no precious."
"Then do not make the promise to me," Galareal replied calmly. "Frodo is the one in charge."
Gollum's eyes narrowed as he glared at Galareal. "Nassty Elf! Leave us alone!"
Gollum looked as if he would leap away again, but Galareal caught his arm and held him down firmly. "Listen Sméagol, you can trust me," the Elf said patiently. "Remember the Elf who used to bring you fish and talk to you?"
Gollum eyed Galareal with mistrust, but suddenly recognition dawned in his eyes. "You're nice Elf who brought us fishess?" he hissed, still cautious.
Galareal nodded and released his hold on Gollum's arm. "Yes, I am. Now, you must promise Frodo you will not run away again."
Gollum glanced back and forth between Galareal and Frodo, trying to reach a decision. At last he spoke, his voice clear, "Sméagol will not run away, Sméagol swears on the Precious."
Frodo drew himself up, a dangerous light in his eyes. "On the Precious? How dare you? Think! One Ring to rule them all and in the Darkness bind them. Would you commit your promise to that, Sméagol? It will hold you. But it is more treacherous than you are. It may twist your words. Beware!"
Gollum shrank back. "On the Precious, we swears on the Precious!" he repeated.
"And you promise to be good and not run away again?" asked Frodo.
Gollum nodded eagerly and crawled to Frodo, groveling before him, like a frightened dog begging before his master.
"Very well," Frodo said with stern pity. "You may swear by it, but not on it! All you wish is to see it and touch it, if you can, though you know it would drive you mad. Not on it. Swear by it, if you will. For you know where it is. Yes, you know, Sméagol. It is before you."
For a moment it looked almost as if Frodo had grown and Gollum had shrunk: a tall stern shadow, a mighty lord who hid his brightness in grey cloud, and at his feet a little whining dog. Yet the two were in some way akin and not alien: they could reach one another's minds. Gollum raised himself and began pawing at Frodo, fawning at his knees.
"Down! down!" said Frodo. "Now speak your promise!"
"We promises, yes, I promise!" said Gollum. "I will serve the master of the Precious. Good master, good Sméagol, gollum, gollum!"
Frodo almost seemed to smile at the poor creature before him. "Very well, Sméagol, I believe you. We will not hurt you nor put the rope on you again."
At this Gollum sprang up and began prancing about, like a whipped cur whose master has patted it. From that moment a change, which lasted some time, came over him. He spoke with less hissing and whining, and he spoke to his companions - even Galareal - direct, not to his precious self. He avoided Galareal and the touch of their Elven cloaks, and he did not like sudden movements or them coming to close to him; but he was friendly, and indeed pitifully anxious to please. He would cackle with laughter and caper if any jest was made, or even if Frodo spoke kindly to him, and weep if Frodo rebuked him. Aria did not speak much to Sméagol, but when she did it was kindly. Galareal spoke placidly with the creature, and Gollum spoke back, not seeming to mind that he was an Elf. Sam said little to Gollum of any sort. He suspected him more deeply than ever, and if possible he liked the new Gollum, the Sméagol, less than the old.
"Well, Gollum, or whatever it is we're to call you," he said, "now for it! The Moon's gone, and the night's going. We'd better start."
"Yes, yes," agreed Gollum, skipping about. "Off we go! There's only one way across between the North-end and the South-end. I found it, I did. Orcs don't use it, Orcs don't know it. Orcs don't cross the Marshes, they go round for miles and miles. Very lucky you came this way. Very lucky you found Sméagol, yes. Follow Sméagol!"
He took a few steps away and looked back inquiringly, like a dog inviting them for a walk. As they set off after him, Aria could not help but think of Elwing and Erestor. I hope they're alright, she thought anxiously. Knowing Elwing she has found some fight to get herself into. I hope Erestor can keep them out of trouble. And I hope they're safe wherever they are.

Gollum led them back northward for a while along the way they had come; then he slanted to the right away from the steep edge of the Emyn Muil, down the broken stony slopes towards the vast fens below. They faded swiftly and softly into the darkness. Over all the leagues of waste before the gates of Mordor there was a black silence.


~*~*~*~ Sorry there isn't more, I'll try and make chapter 30 about Aria and the others, but it all depends on if the characters cooperate. Thank you for being so patient, I know this took awhile. Hopefully I'll get the next chapter up faster. Thank you for reading! **ArwenStar**