Disclaimer: I own none of the recognizable characters in this story—they all belong to JRR Tolkien and New Line.

Wherever the Surge May Sweep

By Jame K. (aka, partheon)

Chapter Six: Gold Poison

Poison is drunk out of gold.
- Seneca

Three long years had passed since Gandalf had left Legolas's house in search of the One Ring and Estel's subsequent kidnapping. For three long years, the Maia had passed following wild-goose-chases and phantom footsteps back and forth across Middle-earth geography. Three years had led him to the small home of a Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.

Well, one good thing about passing time in the company of hobbits – Gandalf reflected solemnly as he sat on the tiny bench in the tiny house – they made the most excellent pipeweed in all of Middle-earth.

The wizard took a long appreciative drag on the pipe and smiled at the curly-haired hobbit next to him as he listened to the small creature expound on the merits of living underneath the ground as opposed to above it.

When the tale was finished, the glittery-eyed hobbit turned expectantly to the wizard. "Now," he cried with a bright smile, "do tell why you have chosen to grace this home of mine?"

Wrinkles across Gandalf's face widened as a smile split apart his lips. "Lobelia tells me that you are the most knowledgeable hobbit in these parts," he confided in a deep voice, "she also says if anyone clearly remembers the story of Smeagol and Deagol it would be you."

The hobbit's face darkened and one hand came to rub at a furrowed brow. "Oh, yes. Sad tale. Tragic tale. Happened only a few years before my birth. My gaffer knew both them and he often related the story to me as a warning. 'Never be greedy, Bilbo, my boy,' he would say." Bilbo smiled. "What do you want to know?"

"What was the fight over?"

Bilbo stirred his cup of tea – metal spoon clanking against fine porcelain. "Well," he said, "no folks around these parts are quite sure. Some say it was over mushrooms – which I highly doubt. But some whisper," and he whispered as well, "that there was a shiny trinket involved." Then Bilbo's voice returned to normal. "But I say that is nonsense as well. Whoever heard of a hobbit being interested in something he could not eat? Leave that to the big folk, I always say."

Gandalf's mouth was deeply lined and his eyes had sharpened slightly. "Tell me, what happened to this Smeagol?"

"No one quite knows." The hobbit shrugged. "He was cast from the Shire for killing his cousin. My old gaffer says that none of the folks knew what to make of it. No hobbit had ever killed another hobbit before."

"So he was just let go?"

Another shrug. "You could say that. He could not return to his family ever which is terrible in itself for us hobbits. Family is everything." Bilbo glanced at Gandalf from the corner of his eye. "Like I said, they really did not know what to do with him. It was the first murder in the history of Hobbiton that I know of."

"And you have no idea where Smeagol could have gone off to after he was banished?"

"Well, there are rumors that he is living up in the Misty Mountains." Bilbo waved his hand in the general direction. "They say he has transformed into something hideous, eating raw meat and living in caves. Younglings are told if they are bad, he will come at night and eat them up. He's become quite the legend. I think he is probably dead. He would be a mighty old hobbit considering he was full age when my gaffer was just a youngling."

Gandalf slowly nodded. "Very old." He stood – though his head was bent to avoid crashing into the low ceiling. "It was good to meet you, Master Baggins, and I trust our paths will cross again."

Bilbo jumped to his feet, holding out his smaller hand to take the wizard's much larger one. "Oh, the pleasure was all mine, Master Gandalf, and do please come again and you can tell me some of your fabulous stories."

The wizard took the small hand and shook it lightly. "You would do a great service to me, Master Baggins, if ever you heard of or laid eyes on this Smeagol. I would be greatly appreciative if you let me know."

"Of course, Master Gandalf." The hobbit's dimples deepened in his cheeks as he offered a wide smile.

Gandalf nodded and smiled again and then he was out the door into the fresh greenness of the shire. He took a deep breath and began walking down the small dirt road. Perhaps… just perhaps… the last three years had not been in vain, after all.

The smell of fetid fish heads and waste seemed to permeate the cavern and the sound of lapping water could be faintly heard over the half-insane mumblings coming from the creature crouched in once corner. The only light was a sallow candle sitting on a lopsided gray stone. A black wick held a dim flame that flickered in a gentle draft from the outside.

There was no hair on the gray, stretched skin of the emaciated creature – save fore a few long, colorless strands hanging from the knotted head. To add to that, the creature was naked save for a stained loincloth stretched over fleshless hips. Bulbous eyes gleamed in the darkness and yellow teeth clacked periodically. Knobby, long-fingered hands were in constant motion as they fondled, petted, and caressed the shiny gold object they held.

"My…precious," the creature murmured, eyes growing impossibly wider as they studied the small gold ring. "Smeagol's…all Smeagol's. Nobody but Smeagol!" The last word was drawn out in a shrill howl that was quickly interrupted by the creature's hacks of "Gollum, Gollum."

All sound ceased – except the gentle lapping of the small pond inside the cave – when there was the patter of rocks falling at the cave's entrance.

Gasping in distress, Gollum concealed the ring in the strip of his loincloth and cautiously crept towards the noise on all four legs. His mouth was parted and his eyes darted through the shadows.

A large rock had fallen several steps from the entrance many years before and Gollum ducked behind it now, his hands anxiously petting the ring as his huge eyes examined the lighted world beyond his dank home.

For a moment, there was nothing and then a gray robed figure strode past, his staff tapping on the scattered rocks. Just outside the entrance to Gollum's cave, the figure – which Gollum now decided was a man though years upon years had gone by since he had seen one – paused and removed the odd pointy thing from his head. Thick gray hair whipped around the face as the man observed the cave entrance and the surrounding countryside.

Gollum whimpered and shrank deeper into the shadows. Nervous hands fondled the ring and he looked lovingly down at the shiny metal.

His Precious would keep him safe. Precious would not want to go with mean man. Precious would want to stay with Gollum. Gollum was good to Precious and Precious was good to Gollum.

But still the man lingered outside Gollum's cave. The creature could hear his heartbeat pounding against his frail ribs and the hand that was not holding Precious came up to touch the throbbing organ, begging it to please be quiet for Precious.

Finally, the man sighed, scratched his head, and began to trek across the uneven rocks once more on his way down the mountain – much to Gollum's abject relief. Soon the sound of his clattering footsteps faded from Gollum's ears and the tip of the pointy thing disappeared from view.

Gollum sagged against the smooth slimy surface of the rock; his arms flopped out on either side and his mouth was wide and gasping. Too close, Precious. Too close for poor Gollum. Precious was cruel to have worried poor Gollum so. Precious should be nice to Gollum because Gollum was so nice to Precious.

Gathering the ring up close to his wrinkled face, Gollum used one finger to circle the smooth top of the piece of jewelry. That was all right. Gollum would forgive Precious. Precious had not meant to hurt poor Gollum. Precious loved Gollum and Gollum loved Precious.

Yes, Gollum cackled as he bounded up to his original perch above the underground pond. Precious would protect Gollum from anything.

Autumn leaves were swirling in a gust of air as Legolas pulled Estel up to the steps of the little building. The sky was a dusky blue with a few clouds drifting on the breezes. The sun was low in the eastern sky as the last colors of the sunrise faded away in preparation of the coming day.

Legolas and Estel stood before a small wooden building that stood in a dirt lot right next to the high wall that protected the main part of the town. Wooden steps led up to a dirty door with a tarnished brass handle. Sparkling windows decorated with gaily colored curtains of blue and crimson were on either side of the door and the elf could see the rows and rows of desks inside of the room.

"Come on, Estel," Legolas cajoled, kneeling in front of the six year old. "I am sure you will enjoy yourself." His hands reached up and tugged on the green linen shirt the boy was wearing. "Can you just smile once before I leave?"

Estel bit his lower lip and looked through his dark lashes at Legolas. "You can teach me."

A sigh escaped the elf and he dropped his head forwards. "We have gone over this. I know I could teach you…but I want you to learn to interact with other children your age. You do not have many friends your own age." Legolas reached up and smoothed back the boy's hair, marveling that it could get so tangled after the elf had just brushed it only an hour ago.

"Please!" Estel threw himself at the elf and wrapped his short arms around Legolas's neck, burying his face in the muscled shoulder. "Let me go home with you. I will weed the garden and sweep the floor and pick up my blocks and make my bed and milk the cow…"

Legolas smiled and his arms came up to gently wrap around the young boy's small body in a loose hug. "I know you would. You are a wonderful child. But now you must go to school. I promise you will have fun and I will be here waiting for you when the school bell rings." He gently disentangled himself from the child and moved to hold Estel at arms distance. "Take courage, Estel."

The boy nodded and sniffed loudly, eyes fixed on Legolas.

"Now," Legolas stood and laid a warm, comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "We still have some time before the school actually starts. Let us go make the acquaintance of your teacher." He reached down and ruffled the boy's hair in an affectionate gesture.

Estel groaned as he reached up to pat the hair back into position. "Legolas!"

The door creaked loudly as Legolas pushed it open and caused the woman inside to start briefly.

"Oh," she stood and wiped her hands free of chalk dust. "I need to oil those hinges. It escaped my mind. Silly me." She hurried over to the large desk that was pushed into one corner of the room and retrieved a vial of oil and a worn rag. Ignoring Legolas and Estel, she trotted passed them, over to the errant door and proceeded to meticulously oil each one of the three hinges.

Estel had pressed himself to Legolas's side, his tan face buried in Legolas's hip. One curious gray eye peeked out at the bustling woman.

Dropping a reassuring hand on Estel's head, Legolas affixed a pleasant smile to his face and cleared his throat softly to get her attention. "Are you the teacher?" he asked once she had turned to face him.

Her hands fluttered up to her throat and then further up to her hair, patting down any errant strands that might have been there. A rosy flush crept up from the high, gray collar of her dress and her mouth opened in a wide smile. "Why, yes. You must be Legolas Greenleaf!" she exclaimed in a voice that made Legolas wince. "Of course, you are the only elf in Archet so who else would you be? I had no idea your son was old enough for school! I am Shana."

Legolas opened his mouth to reinstate that Estel was not his son but then closed it just as rapidly. He had the feeling that would lead to much more conversation than he wished for at the moment. "It is good to meet you. And, he is a little old actually for just beginning school." He looked down at the wavy, dark locks that were still pressed against the side of his tunic. "I taught him to read and most of his numbers so he should not be behind his age mates."

She nodded eagerly and stepped closer to the elf. "I assure you, there is no need to worry. I have taught for many years now and am fully qualified. In fact," she sidled closer and laid one delicate hand on the elf's forearm, "I am very good at calming worried parents."

The archer blinked and took two steps back, dragging Estel with him. "Well, yes," he smiled again, "I am afraid I must leave for work now." He turned his back on her and knelt before Estel. "Be good," he whispered.

"But, Legolas," Estel's eyes were open wide with innocence as he spoke quietly for only the elf's ears, "work does not start for another hour."

Legolas narrowed his eyes in mock anger at the young boy and pressed one long finger to the small lips, causing Estel to giggle fitfully. "Have fun at school." Legolas stood quickly and headed out the door just as the first of the other children began to come in from the outside.

"See you this afternoon," Shana called waving vigorously.

Legolas had just made it down to the edge of the street when Estel's cry made him stop and turn.

The young boy launched himself into his mentor's arms, placing his forehead against Legolas's and his eyes squeezing shut. "You will come for me when the school bell rings?"

Legolas ran one hand down the dark strands. "Yes, Estel. I will come for you. I promise. Now go, enjoy your day." He set the child down and watched as Estel scampered back into the building.

With a sigh, he began walking towards the stables. It felt so odd not to have a small child bouncing by his side, asking a million questions. Legolas sighed again. He guessed that he would have to get used to it.

As the elf approached The inn, the door flew open and Bartmelou bustled out into the bright morning sun. He shaded his eyes and seemed to fix his gaze on Legolas's approaching form. "Sent him off to school, then?" he called and then added in the same breath, "you're early."

Legolas nodded as he stopped next to the man, his arms folded across his chest. "I did. The teacher," he paused to make an unpleasant face at the memory, "she wanted to stay and chat. I thought it prudent to escape as soon as was possible."

Bartmelou guffawed loudly and slapped his hands on his meaty thighs. "I'm surprised the missus didn't warn you. Shana's known for sighting out all of the prospects. She's a bit flighty – but she's a good teacher so we keep her around. Come, come."

Legolas obediently followed the man around to the front door of the pub and stopped beside the water bucket as the man washed his face. "I suppose she seemed nice. I just hope Estel will find her a suitable teacher."

"Was he a'feared at all?"

"A little. But he soon warmed up. I think he will have a good time." Legolas wiped his hands on his leggings and stepped inside the pub. "Have the horses arrived from the Riddermark?"

"Not yet. Don't have much for you to do today actually." Bartmelou stopped in the middle of the room and surveyed the few patrons sitting at the tables with his pudgy hands planted on his wide hips. "Wanna clean the floor?"

Legolas sighed and glanced at the clock. There was only seven more hours until he would pick Estel up from the school house.

Outside the schoolhouse, a gnarled, old tree extended its branches across the play area. Bumpy roots protruded from the grass and made an excellent miniature battle ground for the young children's toy soldiers. The tree's few leaves were turning orange and gold as the autumn approached. Now and then, the gusty breeze would steal another leaf from the branch and float it across the field to the street.

It being the only tree in close proximity to the schoolhouse, Legolas had chosen to make his perch on the largest of the gnarly branches while he waited for Estel to make his appearance from the schoolhouse door. He half reclined with one arm propped against the trunk and one leg dangling off the branch in midair. His blond hair hung out behind him, threatening to catch itself in the knotty bark, and his blue eyes were like a warm pond – relaxed and full of life.

The tree had never had an elf sit in its branches before and was quite enamored by the golden being. Knots had worked themselves out of the branches and the tree stood as tall as it could. Meanwhile, its leaves leaned closer to the woodland creature, eager to bask in the gentle aura the elf projected.

Unfailingly polite, Legolas had crafted a simple tune to hum to the tree and one hand played with the batting braches the tree sent his way. He had tried speaking to it earlier only to discover that the tree had been apart from wood elves so long that it not longer could communicate with them in words.

Much to the tree's chagrin, however, as soon as the school bell rang, Legolas sat up straight. When the branch batted at his face again, the elf ignored the leaves that tickled his face as he studied the children pouring from the rickety door. With his sharp ears, he could detect Shana's voice reminding the children of their homework as they flooded form the building.

Murmuring a farewell to his new tree friend, Legolas alighted to the ground and studiously ignored the wondering glances the children sent his way. Luminous eyes ran over the multitude of little heads, looking for the one that belonged to him. When he caught sight of familiar dark, wavy hair and a tanned face, a relieved grin split his face and he leaned back slightly.

"Legolas!" Breaking from the press of his fellows, Estel bolted towards the elf and jumped into the air.

The elf laughed as he caught the boy easily out of the air and pressed his forehead to the smaller one in a greeting. "And how was school?" he asked softly, merriment twinkling across his handsome face. "Was it as absolutely horrendous as you thought it would be?"

"Nuh-uh. I made some friends. They're swell!"

Legolas furrowed his brow and cocked his head back, a question flitting across his eyes. "Swell?"

The human child giggled and squirmed out of Legolas's arms. He stood on the ground and tilted his head so he could look Legolas directly in the eye. "Yes, swell! That is what everyone says here when something is good. Swell." Then the child's chin wrinkled and his eyebrows rose into his forehead. "Legolas… why is the tree smacking you with branches?"

A long-suffering sigh passed the elf's lips as he moved out of the way of said waving branches. "I made a friend while I waited for the bell to ring," he explained, his bland voice contrasting the laughter filling his eyes. "I think it is jealous of the attention I have given you."

Estel's tiny giggles turned into a full-fledged laugh when the tree's branches reached for Legolas's head once more, making the elf dodge quickly to avoid the fluttering leaves.

Legolas scowled but then laughed as well.

"And here I always thought you two were dull." Shana smiled widely at Legolas, her hands neatly folded in front of her gray dress.

"We are hardly dull," Estel muttered. When Legolas shot him a warning look, he bowed his head. "I apologize."

Shana gave a light laugh. "I was wondering what elves do in their free time," she said, deepening her voice and focusing her attention solely on Legolas.

Legolas cocked his head to one side. "We talk to trees."

For a moment, Shana looked flustered and patted her hair nervously into place. But then she put on what was intended to be a coy smile. "But surely you do not spent all your time…er…talking to trees."

"You would be surprised," Estel commented dryly.

Shana paid no attention to the young human and fluttered closer to Legolas and laid a hand on one tense forearm. "Surely you would like to take walks or eat dinner with a friend," she leaned a little bit closer, "or take a quick tumble. I hear elves have mystical powers, I wonder what they would be like in bed."

To Estel's utter amazement, Legolas flushed from the tips of his ears to the top of his collar. "I assure you," he said when he had regained his serenity somewhat. "My time is quite full. Come, Estel, we are leaving."

This was truly a day for strange happenings! Estel thought as he trotted after Legolas. Never had he seen his mentor be anything other that stiflingly polite to any female that came across his path and the elf had taught Estel to do the same. To leave one standing in an open field without so much as a farewell was truly a wonder in Estel's eyes. He wondered if it was something in the air.

"Legolas," he asked when they were some distance from the building and Legolas's strides had slowed slightly to a more sedate pace, "what did she mean when she asked if you like to fall?"

The elf blinked. "What?"

Estel turned his head to watch a team of horses run by as they pulled a cart. "She asked if you would like to tumble. I do not know why anyone would enjoy falling." He looked back up at Legolas and was surprised to see that the elf's lips were firmly compressed together and his cheeks were turning a light shade of red. Was the elf angry? "Legolas?"

When Legolas made a strangled gasping noise, Estel wondered if he should be concerned for the elf's overall well-being. Had some strange affliction come upon the elf unexpectedly?

"Some things, Estel," the elf finally said when his breath had been regained, "you will be better off not knowing until you are older." His head bent downwards and he gave Estel a warm smile that assuaged any fears that the boy may have had. "Now, tell me about your day."

"Yes, Legolas," the boy prepared to launch into a long narrative about his school day when another thought gave him pause. "Will you be waiting for me outside the school tomorrow, Legolas?"

"I think I shall meet you at the inn. How does that sound? That way you can walk a distance with your friends."

Estel thought a moment and then nodded. "All right. But I think you just do not want to see Miss Shana again."

Legolas reached over and ruffled the boy's hair. "Go on. Tell me about your day."

Petulantly, Estel fixed his hair and began to talk.

Author's note; thanks all for your patience and kind words. If you didn't notice I changed my penname recently. I just felt like a change. Hehe. Let me know what you thought of this chapter! I love you all!