Chapter 3: To Fail
((I SEE YOU! Nooo!)) Panting heavily, I awaken with a start.
It is the middle of the night. Or is it? In Mordor, is there a day? I glance towards the fat hobbit. Still sleeping. Frodo? Asleep.
((The Pressssioussssss calls. Gollum, Gollum. Oh!)) No, I won't let him murder again! My determination from the previous day returning, I argue with Gollum.
Master is nice to Smeagol. He is not like the other Baggins. But Sam /was/ mean to Smeagol… Master loves him, though! Maybe the fat one is like me another lost cause. Why does Frodo even care about us? Maybe we /both/ deserve to die.
/Again, he threatens to take them to Her. Again, I frantically try to change his mind. He speaks of murdering them both! ((Master is Smeagol's only friend! Please, no/Please, not again./ ))
I come to with tears running down my face, but what surprises me even more is the presence of the fat hobbit above me. He is yelling loudly. Why must he wake Master? Poor, poor Frodo.
He says that I spoke of murdering them both! I start to cry and plead that I did not, though every one of us knows the truth. I can see the mistrust in Frodo's eyes – he knows!
Frodo says that I am their only guide and that he has to trust me, at least somewhat. I am simultaneously honored and alarmed. But if he trusts me… and I lead them to Her…! Oh, please! Please, Frodo, don't be so foolish!
Before any of my tears can so much as build behind my eyes, I am Gollum again. We surge forward, as Master says that the three (or four) of us have stayed here too long and we need to walk further today.
I feel my mouth move to form the words: "Follow Smeagol!"
((But we are going the wrong way, Precious! We are going…! No! No, Gollum, don't!)) I am helpless in my own mind. I cannot even shed the tears I would cry, for I know of the doom that awaits my new friend. ((Master! Oh, Frodo, forgive me!))
I lead them towards the mouth of Shelob's lair: Cirith Ungol. The fat hobbit comments about the smell. ((Yessss, Presssssiousssss, rotting flesh will do that… GET OUT OF MY MIND! GO AWAY! GO AWAY!))
Frodo looks out across the lands of Mordor and catches sight of the fiery mountain in the distance. Overjoyed that his Quest is almost over, he begins to wildly frolic and dance, turning his back at just the wrong moment… A shadow falls across him. Oh, Bereth, it's Her!
I look for the other hobbit… he's stumbling, falling in his haste to warn Master in time! ((FRODO!)) Unbidden, my sinewy limbs carry me up the sides of the mountainous lair, to the top of the huge cliff-side. ((Frodo! Frodo! Frodo! Nooooooooo!)) We are silent.
I can't do this again! I can't do this again! I remember everything so clearly! Bereth, nooooo! Please, no… Deagol! We'd been out fishing and Deagol had fallen beneath the boat… When he'd come back up, he had something clasped in his hand! The Ring… NO! I curse the day I was ever born! Why was I born into this world, only to take my poor, sweet Deagol from it? Deagol, who had raised and coddled me since I was born! Deagol, who had shared my life with me and called me brother! My poor Deagol… no… no… no… We fought over the Ring. I blacked out. When I awoke, it was to find my hands around Deagol's neck. I had no control over my body or mind. Deagol looked on me with fear and pain, his lips a terrifying shade of blue… a shade which almost matched his neck. But his eyes were unfocussed, glazed… ((…no…)) He was dead.
And now Frodo was dead, too. Dead because of me, just like Deagol! Oh, Frodo, Deagol… why? Why!
I see a flash of light from the ground and Gollum moves us closer to see. ((GET OUT OF MY MIND, YOU FILTHY BEAST!)) He just laughs in response. I feel on the verge of tears again, but of course, I have no power to shed them.
The spider is nowhere to be seen. Instead, Sam lies on the ground, cradling a bound form which is shaped suspiciously like… ((Frodo.)) I listen to his speech to the "dead" Frodo, tears which Gollum will finally allow falling from my eyes.
"…one wish, one wish in all my life, it would be to come back and find you again."
Such devotion. Such love. Can this be what Frodo saw in Sam?
But if Sam is not a "lost cause," then… Can this be what Frodo saw… in me? ((Do not be a fool. Devotion. Love. Hah! You led them to Her. You are not to be trusted – even Frodo knew that! And you pretend that you are /devoted./ ))
I am silent. What can I say? What can I ever say? Deagol… and now Frodo… are… /gone./ Because of me. He speaks the truth. Yes, Sam was devoted to him, but I, may my name be cursed… I may have killed him.
He laughs at this with a note of scorn which can never be conveyed. ((You may have killed him! Look again! His is a fate worse than death!))
Orcs from the tower, their torches gleaming in the midnight air, stop to look down upon the still form. ((Oh, no… But- but if he's not dead, then…))
((Then they will take him to the tower. You know that fate well, do you not, little one?))
Oh, Frodo, no… ((FRODO!))
