A/N: Short beginning, but I figured this would be better than the way my story began originally. I decided to put in a bit more Legolas, along with Aragorn. My story is much closer to canon than what it was before, so I hope you guys like it! (Besides, I don't think you hear much about how Gollum before Frodo and Sam...he needs more writing about him...) Anyway, this is totally different than what I had doneoriginally, so R/R to let me know how you guys like this version! I'll be posting two chapters (at least) today so you guys won't have to wait forever for updates. I know how that is...well, read on!

Prologue

The cries were pitiful and from what being they came was unknown. The sounds had begun almost immediately as whatever it was entered their home, the sound of its bare body being dragged as apparent as its bothersome voice. The high pitched screams rang through the underground halls, waking all that heard it. Rarely, if ever, had this been ever heard in such ear piercing glory. And so, it roused great interest, even that of King Thranduil himself.

All the while, Nuriathiel followed the cries in the company of the Elven King, which needless to say, was more than a bit curious to see what had disturbed the quiet solitude of his chambers. She could see it in his expression, a bit of annoyance with a soft glow in his blue eyes which betrayed a bit of amusement. Silent he was...wondering...and all the while his council watched him...and thought.

"It comes from the throne room..." she heard one councilor voice, leaning discreetly in the direction of the one who he spoke to. "What in the world is that?"

Nuriathiel looked behind her, noticing Urial, who seemed slightly bewildered at the screams. He stopped speaking almost as soon as her eyes met his, and he smiled impishly in her direction. Bowing his head slightly in respect, she turned away. She would not be distracted.

Quickening her step as the king did, she noticed the doors to the great hall appear.

And they continued their walk.

Though many of the the council followed, their footfalls were quiet and light as a mouse. Their robes flowed behind them, every fair face glowing with its own unique light...every long arm swinging gracefully along their sides as they walked. Nuriathiel noticed this procession with keen interest, though she was a part of it, looking towards the king almost dismissively as she heard a voice speak. But, it was not he she heard.

"My lord..." Elrohim said quietly to the king as he passed. He had opened his door just as he walked by, the inquisitive expression in his eyes apparent as he saw the slightly agitated expression written upon his lord's face. King Thranduil did not say a word, continuing his march towards the source of the disturbance.

Nuriathiel, however, chose a different course of action. Casting a hurried look in his direction, she motioned for Elrohim to follow, which he did. The sound had become louder, hoarse screams of what seemed like pain and agony knocking at every ear.

"What is this infernal noise?" Elrohim asked as he walked beside her. She said noting. Allowing the king to hurry several steps before her, she waited until he was out of earshot to speak.

"We will find out soon enough." she answered.

"He seems a bit agitated, doesn't he?" he asked after moments of silence. Nuriathiel nodded in affirmation.

"A bit." she said simply. Nuriathiel's eyes widened. And Elrohim, realizing this, looked towards the direction of the Elven king. He did not move to continue the conversation he had began, watching in stunned silence as the king approached the door. Opening it, the king stepped into the Grand hall, stopping dead in his tracks. With only meeting the king's eyes, whatever it was immediately halted with its continuous protests. The king, however, seemed rather surprised.

Quickening her step as she felt fear for the king, Nuriathiel burst through the doors, stopping behind the king as every eye widened in curiosity behind them. What in the world was this laying on the ground?

An undiscovered species? A dying animal? A deformed man?

Whatever it was, it was apparent that it suffered greatly. The sad creature had been dragged by a thin but strong tether, and now lay prostrate upon the ground of the hall with its head buried in its arms. Revealing nothing of its features save for the hairless contours of its skull, it raised the interest of everyone in the room. Rather pale and gaunt, lacking suppleness of skin, it wore only a rag of tattered clothing wrapped about the thin waist of its body.

Tearing her eyes away from the strange scene before her, Nuriathiel noticed Legolas in the hall as well, in the company of Aragorn. In his hands, the man held the tether, tugging on it as he no doubt felt the creature slipping away from him. The creature whined in response, sobbing as he felt the rope tighten about him again. So hoarse its voice seemed to be, that he could barely cry out.

The elven prince, however, kept his bow tightly trained upon the creature, his eyes locked upon it. Thranduil said nothing for a moment, looking for a thought to put into words.

"Legolas." The king said as he recognized his son "What is this?" Legolas hesitated for several seconds before lowering his bow slowly from the creature. He looked towards his father, an impassive expression written upon his fair face.

"Gollum." Legolas said simply.