Chapter 2

Dawn came too soon for Aragorn's weary body, but he was at least somewhat refreshed. As he stretched himself awake, he became aware first of the Elf's quizzical gaze upon him, and then of his own half-naked, chilly state. Clutching his cloak around him, he nodded a determinedly emotionless greeting to Legolas, and took his clothing a few paces further into the trees where he could dress in peace. A surge of irritation, chiefly directed at himself, overtook him; why this sudden access of modesty? He had never felt the need to hide behind a tree when in company with Halbarad or his other Rangers. Anyone would think Legolas Greenleaf was some high-born lady giving him her condescending notice… Aragorn smiled slightly at the very notion.

Legolas appeared suddenly, and proffered him one of his two bows. "Thank you," acknowledged the Ranger, and hefted it, finding it well-balanced and solid. "It is of good make."

Legolas shrugged. "There is little choice of wood in this part of the world. I could have wished it more supple, but it will serve."

"Once we have arrows," Aragorn pointed out.

"I have a few left in my quiver, but we must be sparing with them, for there are no birds here to provide feathers for more. Now, what kind of tracks does this halfling creature leave? I have never seen one."

"Human-like, but smallish in comparison. The halflings in the Shire have fur upon their feet, but I am told this one has none, nor indeed any hair upon his bony body, unlike his Shire cousins. So the tracks should be quite distinct. And he is, I am told, so degraded that he goes often on all fours instead of upright." A vivid picture of himself crossing the marshes two days before, chiefly on hands and knees, crossed Aragorn's mind, and he winced slightly.

Legolas paid that no mind, but simply said, "Good, I know now what to look for. Does he speak?"

"Gandalf says he speaks a garbled sort of Westron, but his most characteristic utterance is an angry hiss."

"And what does he eat?"

"Fish. Raw."

"Then he likely stinks also. Though whether that will assist in finding him in this noxious place, I am not sure."

Aragorn nodded agreement. Though the mists rose thickly from the swamp at this early hour, the terrain was now visible and they quickly decided to follow the northern margin seeking any sign that Gollum might have passed that way. They spoke little, Aragorn still feeling weak and decidedly chagrined that the Elf had so effectively commandeered his mission. He could not forbear frequent glances at the marble features of his companion, but could read nothing there except an occasional fleeting expression of disgust.

The sun rose higher and the air cleared a little. They had traversed several miles at a steady pace, but no air-breathing thing stirred besides themselves; no tracks of any kind showed in the glutinous mud that lined the reed banks; no noise other than the angry murmur of biting midges stirred the heavy air. Not for the first time that day, Aragorn's foot slipped heavily.

"When did you last eat?" asked Legolas abruptly.

Aragorn had to think about it. He was long past hunger. There had been little to scavenge in Mordor, and nothing at all as he made his reluctant, hasty retreat across the marshes from the band of Orc guards who had driven him out. "Three days, I think," he said.

"I should have realized." The Elf reached into his pack and handed Aragorn a substantial chunk of lembas. Was that a flash of guilt upon his impassive face? "I am little used to campaigning with mortals. Forgive me." Yes, it was an apology. Aragorn was too busy tearing into the waybread to make much more acknowledgment than a grateful grunt through his full mouth, but his surprise must have shown, for Legolas went on, now clearly embarrassed, "That was unforgivable."

Aragorn swallowed and replied hastily, "Not a bit of it. Had I any sense at all, I would have asked. Now, which way would you suggest around this mud-hillock?" And they went on with their slow quest as before, but it seemed to Aragorn that Legolas extended his occasional supporting hand less grudgingly, and that his glances were less disdainful. But, the Ranger admitted to himself, it could also be that he merely wished it to be so. The Elf was, after all, a beautiful, perfectly formed, commanding figure, skilled and renowned, and what man would not desire his good opinion?

Just as the man thought it, Legolas lurched upon a slippery mudbank and Aragorn caught his arm, a tiny chuckle of relief rising in his throat. Legolas smiled - and what a smile! - in response. "It is good to have a companion in this revolting country," he said. Aragorn let go, a little slowly, as they moved on.

It was a long and tedious day, and still they spoke little. Aragorn was greatly curious about how Legolas had found him and why he wished to join him in the hunt for Gollum, but every sidewise approach he made to the subject was immediately rebuffed. "Shall we retire into the woods for the night?" asked Legolas eventually. "The light is nearly gone."

"A little further," urged the Ranger, taking the lead. Mere steps later, his persistence was rewarded with the sight of small, soft tracks in the mud. Most ungenerously, Aragorn was delighted that it was his own eyes and not the Elf's which had first discovered them.

It took both pairs of eyes to follow the broken, meandering trail that Gollum had left, but eventually they found him, gazing into a muddy pool, hissing, "Fisssh, fissshhh - where are you, fisshhh?"

With a cry of triumph the Ranger leapt upon him. The next moment he gave a different cry - one of pain - as Gollum sank long hard teeth into his throat. Legolas sprang to help, and between them they subdued the struggling creature, with much effort.

"It is nothing," gritted Aragorn, clapping one hand to the base of his bloodied neck. "Bind him first." Legolas sacrificed a strip of material from his cloak to tie Gollum's hands, but was not satisfied that it would hold for long.

"Where can we find rope in this forsaken place?" Legolas tore another strip from his clothing as he spoke, padding and wrapping Aragorn's wound with skill and speed clearly born of the battlefield.

"I can think of no place," replied Aragorn, submitting since the Elf clearly knew what he was doing. "But there is an alternative just over there, if you can keep our captive safe for a few minutes." As soon as the rough bandage was complete, he strode over to a reed bed, seated himself beside it, and began to pluck handfuls of the hard, fibrous plants.

Legolas half-dragged, half-carried Gollum to join him, careful to avoid the creature's biting lunges. "Be still, Sméagol," he barked. Gollum turned in his grasp, and for a long moment held his gaze, giving a low growl. Then he wrapped himself into a ball at Legolas' feet, bound hands over his head, and refused to move. It was as good a place as any to sit and watch the Ranger, who was plaiting reeds quickly and smoothly. Legolas bent forward, intrigued, to see the pattern, and holding Gollum firmly crooked in one leg, he plucked a few reeds to try it himself.

Aragorn looked up at the Elf's slight hiss of exasperation, seeing him put one thumb to his mouth. "Sorry," said the Ranger, smiling slightly to himself. "I should have warned you how sharp these reeds are." His own fingers, more callused than Legolas', were only slightly damaged.

"I am unhurt," replied the Elf, but he abandoned his attempt nonetheless, for Aragorn's swift fingers had nearly finished their task. When the Ranger brought the improvised harness and leash over, Legolas tested each part of it with a hard tug, finding it solid.

"Now walk," said Aragorn to their stubbornly immobile prisoner once they had trussed him into it. Gollum merely rolled himself into a tighter knot.

Aragorn sighed. "Walk," he said again. "We are leaving Mordor behind. That is what you want, is it not?" But Gollum would not speak; he merely hissed and growled.

Legolas heaved him bodily to his feet. "If you behave," he said, "we will find a clear stream and help you catch a fish." A gruesome smile crossed Gollum's face. Suddenly he burst into a run, which ended with a sharp jerk as he reached the end of his leash. He gave a short wail, then, giving them both a malevolent look over his shoulder, began to walk into the trees ahead of them. "Fissshhh…" he hissed softly. It was the only word he would utter for the next nine hundred miles.

End of Chapter 2