Chapter 10: Answers in the Light

The next evening, a small, thin, stooped figure approached the owner of a general store in the Fourth Circle and offered in a trembling but oddly belligerent tone to clear the basement of rats. 

The store owner said rather stiffly that there were no rats in his store.

The stranger seemed offended by this and even hurt. He insisted that all stores had rats, there was no shame in admitting it- and besides, he could hear them, he could, and he would kill them for free if he were allowed into the basement, and that was a very good deal- you didn't get work for cheaper than free; please would the man let nice Sméagol into the basement? He wouldn't hurt anything.

The store owner did not want nice Sméagol in his basement. The creature was now quite offended, and angry. He said with a sniff that he would go then, he wouldn't stay where he wasn't wanted- might a poor creature have a drink from the rain barrel outside or would that be too much trouble?

He was welcome to the rain barrel, which the store owner only used for watering plants (as the city had much nicer and cleaner cisterns, and the shop had indoor plumbing). With that, the creature left.

There could be no doubt that it was Sméagol. No fewer than three customers saw him and overheard his thin wavering voice. They all discussed the incident with the store owner afterwards, and matched the figure to the talk of the stranger that their new King had said was not to be harmed, although neither was anyone obliged to give him anything or aid him in more than their hearts told them was proper. Apparently he had been a person of ill repute at one time, but had repented and been pardoned in exchange for aiding the Ringbearer at a critical moment, and had been instrumental in winning the War. The Ringbearer had vouched for him and would not be gainsaid.

Oddly, none of them could tell what manner of person Sméagol was, or if he was one of the Free Peoples at all. Rumors held that he was a young orc that had turned against Mordor, but all who had seen him agreed that while he was not large enough to be a grown orc he was also plainly not young- so he must not be an orc at all. And surely their noble new King and the quiet, wise-eyed halfling who had borne the Ring would not have dealings with orcs, however willing they were to be of service.

The conversation then turned to the question of: Did Sméagol really hear rats in the store?

And would he be safe out there in the dark? There had been reports of bandits and pickpockets and the creature was so small- and he seemed a bit touched in the head, at that.

The store owner decided to go and see if he was still there. He was, perched on the edge of the rain barrel with his head entirely submerged. He stayed that way for an alarming length of time while the shop owner tried to get his attention- at last he looked up and demanded to know what the big stupid Man wanted now. He was chewing something and looked pleased with himself. When questioned, he said the rain barrel had had polliwogs and wrigglers in it. Did the Man want them back? They were no longer in very good condition and Sméagol would rather not give them back, all things considered. He liked them to be where they were (at this, he swallowed loudly).

The store owner said he didn't want anything, and went back inside. Maybe Sméagol had done something important, but he seemed like an awfully unpleasant person... or orc... or whatever else he may be.

The next evening an elderly gentleman who lived near a public fountain heard splashing from its vicinity. Seeing a thrashing human figure in the water, he feared that perhaps a child had fallen in, and went out at once to see what was going on. He found a small bedraggled thing in the fountain, who seemed unconcerned- he explained that he meant to be there, it was where he wanted to be, he had not fallen in. He expressed admiration of the Men for building something so clever. He said the King had said he might go where he liked, yes, the King himself had said so; but he would move on if he was bothering anyone. The gentleman said he was not bothered, and went back to bed. He woke for a glass of water a few hours later and noted that the stranger was still splashing in the fountain, his bright eyes visible in the dark, and his voice lifted in a quacking tune.

The gentleman went out to speak to him again. The creature asked if he was making too much noise. He thought it was silly of Men to sleep at night, which was the nicest time to be out and about, but Men must do what they would and of course they did not want to be disturbed if they were sleeping. Good Sméagol could be quiet. Very quiet!

The gentleman, who had poor eyesight, said he was not bothered by the splashing, but was Sméagol safe out on a dark night all by himself? Where were his parents?

Dead many years, they were. Sméagol was on his own, he was used to it. No one ought to worry about little Sméagol, but it was kind of the Man to fret so, nice Man.

The gentleman bid him a pleasant night, and left.

During the early morning hours, a young man preparing to open his butcher shop suddenly noticed a small figure huddled nearby, which he at first took for a dog, but then it spoke. It greeted him politely, and rhapsodized about the beautiful and scrumptious smells coming from the shop, going into a monologue that only ended when the creature surreptitiously turned away to wipe something off of his chin. He had a thick accent to the butcher's ears- something vaguely Northern- and he spoke rapidly and put things in an odd way. Overall, he was a bit difficult to comprehend. The butcher asked if he was hungry. The creature grew very excited at the word 'hungry'. The butcher offered him some liver, which the creature seized on and began at once to devour, slobbering over it and taking a long time - this put the butcher in mind of his toothless grandfather. Then the creature asked a question, which the butcher had to ask him to repeat- he did so, louder. "What's he think of the King?"

The butcher had a lengthy discussion on this point with the stranger (who did have a few teeth, and they were sharp teeth, but sharp teeth were better for tearing than for chewing). Most of it the butcher spent rambling as if he was talking to himself, and understanding about a third of the remarks his new friend made (the creature also seemed to be rambling to himself).

In the end the butcher wondered aloud if having a King would affect the property taxes on his butcher shop.

The creature said the King's tax policy made no difference to him because he didn't have any money. He thanked the butcher for his gift of 'nice food', and said he would leave. He yawned and turned away.

The butcher noticed he was heading towards an area where a couple of muggers had struck a night ago. He called out a warning but was waved away.

That evening, a young couple heard shrieking coming from outside their bedroom window. Not all of the words were intelligible, but "I don't have it," was heard. "It is gone, I, I don't have it!" The voice was rapidly moving away and already no one was visible beneath the window.

A howl of despair rang through the night, following by a man yelling and cursing in pain.

Later that night two men were arrested trying to get into a house that had been standing empty. One of the men was pale and sweating- his hand was wrapped up in a handkerchief. It had been shredded and mangled. He would only say a dog had bitten him, and when asked why he had not gone to the Houses of Healing, he did not answer.

"Pardon me, sir. Are you a- a halfling?"

Bilbo looked up from under his hood. He was deeply tempted to claim to be a beardless Dwarf, sometimes, just to see what happened if he did, but his conscience always got the better of him. "Indeed I am," he said, "but I am not one of the really important halflings. They are currently at a really important function. I have escaped."

"Oh," said the young Man, peeking out from his window. "I have never seen a halfling before. I'm pleased to meet you, even if you are not really important."

"The most respectable hobbits are not important at all," said Bilbo. "I regret to say I am not quite unimportant, I am a rather talented poet. Therefore, lad, I am not important enough to be forced to be in attendance at important functions, but neither am I unimportant enough to be held in as high esteem by my people back home as some would argue I deserve. That puts my social standing in a rather odd position."

"Might I hear some of your poetry?" the boy asked. "I've never heard halfling poetry."

"I might have time for a scrap of verse."

Bilbo lingered there for about twenty minutes more until the boy's mother called for him, and then the old hobbit went on his way, whistling.

 He pulled his cloak a little tighter about himself. It had been a fair spring day that heralded the approaching summer, but now there was a cool breeze. Also, he felt as if he were being watched- but that was probably his imagination.

He was in a nice, open street, with the setting sun slanting into it and making golden squares on the ground. White stone walls rose on each side. It did not seem like a place that was cut out for lurking, but Bilbo, an experienced burglar, could not help but note the boxes and piles of construction materials that were lined up on the ground, waiting to be taken to the outer wall. Bilbo could have easily passed unseen by flitting between them. So could anyone else who was about his size.

He reached into his pocket.

What have I got in my pocket? he thought. Knife. He had felt foolish picking it up before a casual evening stroll in a well-guarded city, but a thought of cold, grasping fingers in the dark had kept him from leaving it behind.

'You slept next to him?' he had cried, when Frodo had been recounting the story. And Sam had muttered 'I didn't get much sleep' and Bilbo had called him a good lad, a sensible lad. And yet they had all been sleeping with that thing only a few buildings away, and not even chained up or anything like that. And Gandalf was okay with that!

'You need not fear him, Bilbo,' Gandalf had said. 'He is a very different creature, he will never again be what he was, and he will do no mischief here- unless of course he is provoked to think he must defend himself, so I suggest you leave him alone.'

'And how would he think he has to defend himself from me?" Bilbo had fumed. 'Have you seen the size of his teeth? "We has only six, precious" indeed.'

'Don't ask me what he thinks, or why, or if he does think,' said Gandalf. 'Treat him as you would an injured dog that does not know you or like you. He will not touch you- if he is left alone.' These last two words were given severe emphasis.

'I can't say I like it,' Bilbo had said. This was on the night when the rotten old blighter had crashed their evening tea. 'It's horrid, the way he paws at Frodo.'

'You need not like it,' said Gandalf. 'You need not like him. I cannot say that I like him, myself; it is not necessary to like him to wish him well. But neither need you fear him.' Gandalf had given him a very serious look. 'You have been repaid for sparing his life,' he had said, 'and you need have no further business with Sméagol.'

Bilbo had agreed that he did not want to have any business with Gollum, whatever he called himself. But Gollum obviously had business with him. He had popped up in the gardens like a rake Bilbo had stepped on, and most disturbingly, he had not behaved like an injured dog that did not know Bilbo, or even as one that did not like Bilbo. In fact, he'd seemed more like a strutting tomcat that was considering whether to rub his face all over a visitor in what he considered to be his territory.

It did occur to Bilbo now that if he wanted Gollum to think he had to defend himself, pulling a knife on him would be a good way to start. But the knife might be useful anyway. It wasn't as if he was paranoid- Bilbo had been warned. Frodo had pulled him aside for a brief word that morning.  'Bilbo,' he had said, 'Sméagol may still be in the city.'

'May be?'

'They are not quite sure where he is right now. He was in the Fourth Circle yesterday, I hear; he seems to be trying to find his way out.'

'Is that so,' Bilbo said, rather gruffly. 'If no one's sure where he is he may be lurking in any corner around here, too, and I think I'll go where I like- but I appreciate the warning.'

'Oh, do be careful,' said Frodo, looking a bit apologetic.

'Now, my lad,' said Bilbo, 'don't bother about me- I'm the reason that slimy fool oozed out of his cave to begin with so I have only myself to blame if I don't want his company!'

Bilbo very much did not want his company.

He felt watched. He glanced at the windows of the house opposite, in case it was just another curious Man.

Indeed a woman stood there and locked eyes with him, but she looked abashed to be caught and ducked out of sight.

"I am friendlier than I appear," Bilbo called. But the shutters closed. It could be a bit embarrassing to be caught staring at passersby through a window, he supposed, if one was inclined to care about such things. Back at Rivendell Bilbo watched the Elves going about their business whenever he felt like it. They didn't seem to mind. He suspected they considered him to be a bit like a pet.

He went along his way, but had not gotten more than ten feet when he heard soft words from the shadows:

"You are friendly, eh?"

Bilbo's hand went into his pocket. His eyes swept the piles of boxes and debris. Eyes glinted from under a pile of lumber.

"How did you find me?" Gollum asked.

"Good gracious, you think I was looking for you?" Bilbo cried, indignation overcoming his dismay. "What would I possibly want with you?"

"I don't know, do I? But here you are," said Gollum, "so you wants something, doesn't you? It may be you wants something from us, or you may wants something else and we happens to be here, but you wants something. Gollum, gollum! What is Baggins doing out here? What is he up to?"

"That's really not any of your business," said Bilbo.

"No? Perhaps not," said Gollum, in an oddly quiet, almost submissive tone- "but I did not think I would see you."

"And I did not expect to see you either."

"He cannot quite see us, we thinks." This was true. Gollum was hiding, after all. Only his eyes were visible.

"I can see more than I wanted to!"

"Rather not see us at all, then?"

"Well," Bilbo conceded, "perhaps it's better if I see enough to know where you are." And now that he did know where Gollum was, he couldn't just walk off and leave the rascal at large in Minas Tirith, whatever ideas Aragorn had about giving him room to prove himself, or some such thing. Aragorn was still Bilbo's junior, after all, King or no!

A thought occurred to him. "Weren't you trying to leave the city?"

"I was." Gollum's tone was still quiet and subdued.

"You haven't gotten far, have you?" Bilbo pointed out. "This is only one Circle away from the guest houses."

"Is it? Is it? The city is hard for us, everything smells alike, and we doesn't know our way, no. But we are not trying to leave just now." Gollum crept a little further into view. Bilbo had a glimpse of soft white skin like the skin of a maggot, and a nose cautiously scenting the air. "Where is he going, eh? Going out of the city, or going home? Going somewhere else?"

"I," said Bilbo, "am not going to tell you. Why would I want to tell you?"

Gollum blinked at him a few times. "I suppose he would not want to. No, perhaps he wouldn't."

"He doesn't, but he does very much want to know what you're up to."

"Ah. And we do not want to tell him that, do we, precious?"

Bilbo frowned at him. "You might find yourself in a bit of trouble if you don't."

"We are not a prisoner," said Gollum. "Aragorn said so. We might go about if we like. He is the King, and most peoples listen- yes- most peoples won't put their handses on us."

"He is the King, and he's also a good friend of mine. That doesn't answer my question in the slightest, and it doesn't mean you're not up to no good, either."

Gollum whimpered and crept forward a little more- long white fingers appeared, splayed on the pavement. There were red marks on his wrist in the shape of large hands, and a small scab near the heel of his thumb, and blisters here and there from too much crawling on unaccustomed ground. "Jusst now I am not up to anything, if he believes it. I, I don't know what to do."

"Why," said Bilbo, "I suppose this isn't my business, but I can see that you're hurt. What happened?"

Gollum looked startled and glanced at his wrist, yanking his arm back out of sight. "It is not your business," he said, "no."

"Alright, then, never mind."

Gollum looked silently up at him, then away. "Poor Sméagol," he said. "Poor nassty Sméagol. I hurt somebody."

"Oh," said Bilbo with a sinking feeling. "Who did you hurt?"

"A big Man grabbed at us," said Gollum. "Thought he didn't like where we was- we smelled pigeons and we was trying to find them. Wanted nice birds. Nice eggses. Peoples sometimes do not like to see Sméagol. Wants him to go away."

I can't imagine whyever not, thought Bilbo, and shivered.

Gollum continued: "I said I would go, yes, if only he let go of us so we could leave." He began to weep. "But he asked us to give over what's in our pocketses, gollum, gollum! We has nothing, nothing, I said, nothing you'd want, not anymore, and he assked us again and his friend was there in our way- we couldn't get past him, and I said I- I did not want to tell him what I had and I did not want to give it him, it was mine."

"Did you have anything at all?" Bilbo asked. And if so where had he gotten it?

"No. Yes. Only a few rocks, dirty little rocks from the sewers, and a rat's skull." His breathing grew sharp and ragged. He scuffled against the ground and swallowed. "Why? Does Baggins want them, eh?"

"No, no, not at all, thank you for offering; I was only wondering if you carry items," said Bilbo. "I can't imagine Men wanting those things. Not enough to attack someone over it."

The rest of the story came out in fearful gulps. "They knocked us about and looked through our pocketses, gollum! I thought he wanted- wanted the Precious, that was it, I thought when he found I did not have it, he would- I- I don't know."

Bilbo frowned. "Why, I suppose it's possible someone knew you had the Ring at one time but- surely they all know it's gone?"

Gollum licked at his long fingers for a moment before continuing. "Everyone knows it is gone. He hurt us, he hurt us, so I bit him! I did! Took off part of his hand for him, gollum! O! I still tastes it, gollum, gollum! He kicked us away and threw us at the wall. I am so sore! What would they have done if I had not bitten him?"

"I'm not sure," said Bilbo, though he suspected it was a rhetorical question.

"That has done it for us," said Gollum. His voice dropped to a mutter. "They told us there was banditses, my precious, they told us."

"Who told you that?"

"Everyone! Everyone. Should have been more careful, more quiet." He shook his head. "But I thought I could get away. I didn't think they would hurt me in the first place, now, did I? I have nothing. I look as if I have nothing. I am thin, I am dirty and ragged."

"Well- you're right, you don't look as if you're carting around a lot of gold."

"The Precious is gone. Why me?" He hissed. "Men don't make sense, they are not sensible, they are less sensible than hobbits, even when hobbits are being silly. But they did hurt us. We should have been more careful. Eh, Baggins is a burglar. Why'd they try to take from us? Don't have nothing."

"You're asking me?"

"Yes," Gollum said with some impatience, "no one else here, is there?"

"Why," said Bilbo, "you often talk to yourself right in front of me and I don't know whether you're asking me or not."

"Sméagol is asking you, Bilbo Baggins. Why did they try to take from us?"

"I- I suppose you looked like you'd be easy to fight," said Bilbo. "Wouldn't you know about that sort of thing better than I do?"

"What?"

"Attacking people. I'm not that sort of burglar, you know."

"You has a sword," said Gollum.

"Not today." Right, Mr. Baggins, Bilbo thought, you've just insulted him and told him you haven't got a sword. Dear me, I am much too old for this sort of thing. He glanced around for exit paths. In fact, Bilbo was out in the open and could go wherever he'd like, and Gollum was still halfway under a pile of construction materials.

"When I attack people," Gollum said curtly, "it is not to steal. Sméagol is skinny, all bones and dry, he is. I would not have bothered with him."

"Oh! I see. I suppose I should have expected something like that answer."

"You asked."

"Yes, I asked. I am sorry I did."

"We wants to go back."

"So you're headed back now?" Bilbo glanced at the patches of sun on the ground. "Isn't it a bit bright for you?"

"Hiding away, we are. Can't sleep." Gollum crawled completely out from his hiding place, finally, moving in a jerky fashion and avoiding the sun. He sat on his haunches, eyeing Bilbo. He looked as if he were going to say something, then he scowled and shook his head- again he seemed to prepare to say something. His face twisted. "I'm losst!" he shrieked, and dug his knuckles into his eye.

"Well, don't cry! I'm here, I'll lead you back to where you've been staying. Come along." It did not occur to Bilbo, and would never occurred to him, that this was an opportunity to avenge himself on Gollum by making him, say, play a game to win the opportunity to be shown the way home. Bilbo did not want revenge on Gollum. Bilbo did not want revenge on anyone, and he thought Gollum looked miserable, and- although he supposed that was Gollum's own fault- tormenting the creature was out of the question. He was just relieved that it seemed as if there was not going to be an argument and that he would be able to bring Gollum back somewhere he would be supervised.

But Gollum would have thought of revenge, had he been in Bilbo's place, and perhaps that was why he seemed cautious.

"Eh," said Gollum, sniffling, "he'll show us the way back?"

"Of course," said Bilbo.

"He doesn't want anything first?"

"No, of course not. Come on." He beckoned, but Gollum just sat where he was on the ground. "Don't you want to go back? We'll go through the shadows, if you like, there are plenty of them."

"No," Gollum said, rather sullen.

"But you just said you wanted to go back, unless I'm going a bit deaf- and I wasn't deaf this morning."

"I do want to," said Gollum. "I wants my soft bed and a supper I don't have to catch and a nice cold bath, and clean clotheses and hair that is not ratty, and for someone to look at my poor back where it hit the wall; but Sméagol wants to keep his promise. Yes. Yes, I want to do what I promised."

"Ah. What did you promise?"

"Said I'd look for orcses."

"Right," said Bilbo. "Aragorn said he'd take you to do that, or have someone take you to do that, and instead of letting him, you wandered off, so you've already broken that promise."

"Yes, yes," said Gollum, his pale eyes wide and staring. "If I come back now- promise is broken, and Sméagol is false, he is very silly going and wandering about the city on a walking-trip and getting kicked, but if I go- I can still do what I said-"

"That's not how it works at all," said Bilbo, "you've already wandered off, and the sensible thing would be to un-wander off. And Aragorn would not be happy with you going off to do something dangerous when you're hurt and frightened."

"Why not?"

"Why, he cares about people, that's why not, and my Frodo cares about your well-being, and we all care very much about what Frodo cares about."

"O," said Gollum, trembling. "The kind Master!"

"Also, Aragorn will want to hear your story about the bandits. He doesn't want people in his city getting robbed and tossed around."

"Ss, ss." Gollum backed away, and looked as if he might be going to bolt. "Doesn't want them bitten either, does he?"

"No, but if they bothered you, he'll probably think you were just defending yourself." Assuming Gollum wasn't lying, but since Bilbo wanted him to come quietly, he wouldn't bring up that part. "Come along now," Bilbo said briskly. "Come along with me, Gollum."

"It is Sméagol, Sméagol! That is my name, I don't have any other."

"Sméagol, then. If you have any hobbit-sense left in you, you'll see that it's the only thing to do. If you don't come with me I dare say someone is going to hunt you down and bring you back. And also if you only hurt that man because he was terrorizing you, you had better come and say so to the people who'll be looking into it when he shows up with part of his hand bitten off, or it might not look good for you."

"Fine!" Gollum cried. "Fine. We will go with him. I'm lost- I hates this stinking city." He shuffled forward, grimacing. "We do not get lost often," he said. "This city- all of it looks the same, ach! And we can't tell which way is south anymore. Not so easy as we could." He came to heel beside Bilbo, with a lot of flip-flap noises, and they headed off together.

Bilbo glanced down at him. "How have you been feeding yourself, may I ask?"

"Not his business," said Gollum, looking miserable.

Bilbo leaned back and frowned at him. "My good creature," he said. "I think we both know that what you're eating is sometimes very much my business."

Gollum shrugged and made a face. "Been eating rats, we have. Ratses and mice, and pigeons from eaves, and we found a bit of fissh once, yes- but it was not quite fresh, and one time a nice Man fed us a bit of a cow's insides. Does that suit him? Is that allowed?"

Bilbo considered this in silence for a while as they walked together. At length, he ventured to say: "I confess I am affronted a bit to hear you eat rats. I fancied myself you were something of a gourmet. I had hoped you had rather selective taste."

"No... no, we eats what we can get," said Gollum. He looked distraught and distracted, and plainly had not gotten the joke. "And rats are not so bad, if they have not been eating anything nasty."

"I've eaten some things I would rather not, when I had to," said Bilbo, "but goodness gracious! You could have stayed in your room and had decent meals. Why did you think you had to go off on your own like that?"

"We thought we could go and it would not be much trouble," Gollum muttered. "Made a mistake, we did." His eyes filled with tears, though his sullen expression did not change, and he seemed not to notice he was weeping. "I am seen- I am found- I cannot find my way... I cannot even catch a rat, without it sinking its teeth into my poor wrist first." He sounded disparaging- as if he was disgusted by his new, weaker self.

Bilbo cleared his throat. He did not quite know what to say to this, and was torn between compassion for a creature that had lost his way of life and his ability to go where he wanted and do what he was used to, and the feeling that it was rather unpleasant that Gollum seemed to be lamenting the fact that he was no longer a very effective monster.

"You're probably trying to do too much too soon," Bilbo suggested. "My Frodo still isn't quite himself after that wretched adventure he had with my old ring and- I hear you got even less to eat there than he and Sam did, and you're also not so young, of course."

"The Master is ill?" Gollum cried.

"Not exactly," said Bilbo, "he's just, er..."

"Just what? He looked well, when we saw him. What is the matter?"

"It's taking him a while to get back on his feet, that's all." What had possessed him to share any of Frodo's personal life?

"Ach!" Gollum looked despairing. "What am I to do about it? I can't help him. I don't know how. He has his Sam, Sam looks after those things, we guess, we guess, ach! Sss! I am no good to him anymore. The poor Master." He sat down on the ground, looking tired and old.

This was why no one could bear to kill him, Bilbo thought- he had this sort of thing down to an art form! In any case, attempting to comfort him was obviously going to backfire so Bilbo would not try it anymore.

"Come on home, then," said Bilbo, "you need a bath, if you don't mind me saying so."

"We minds," Gollum grumbled. "But- he is right." He lapsed into silence, and neither said anything until they reached the Sixth Circle.

The guard at the gate tipped his head in deference to Bilbo and looked less happy to see Gollum.

"This here is Sméagol," said Bilbo. "I suppose you've likely heard of him, well- I found him and I am bringing him back."

The guard leaned forward for a look at Gollum, who squirmed away.

"He's a tad shy," said Bilbo. "I'm just taking him along."

"You may enter," said the guard, still trying to get a glimpse at Gollum, who plainly did not want to be glimpsed.

Bilbo turned towards him in a way that partly blocked the guard's view. "Come along, now, Sméagol." Gollum jumped over to him in a bound, like a frog, and they both scurried through the gate.

Bilbo could have turned him over to the guard if he wanted the errand over with, he realized, but that would have seemed a bit cruel.

The two went along together in the direction of the building Gollum stayed in, still without much to say to each other.

Gollum soon began to hang back, whimpering.

"What is it?" Bilbo asked.

"They might be angry," said Gollum. "They might."

"Yes, they might, but you've got to go back anyway. I'm sure they'll be fair to you," said Bilbo.

Gollum did not look at all comforted- he looked rather ill, in fact. He continued along, but more slowly than before.

There was a big Man outside weeding the gardens when they arrived.

"Hello there!" Bilbo waved.

The Man looked up. "Good evening, Ring-finder," he said. "Have you come to look at the gardens? I am surprised to see a halfling alone."

"I'm not alone," said Bilbo. "Or I wasn't a moment ago. Try looking in the shadows. I've fetched along the, er, Ring-thrower-awayer, if you like." He was half afraid that Gollum had bolted when Bilbo's attention was on the gardener, but he was still there, huddled submissively against the ground some distance behind Bilbo. "This is where he's staying, isn't it?"

The Man started to his feet with a cry. Gollum recoiled as if struck, and stared up with his pale round eyes.

"Sméagol!" The Man began to rush forward. He saw Gollum cringing away from him, and dropped into a crouch, leaning forward but keeping a respectful distance. His face was distraught but his voice was calm and cheerful. "You're back! You look miserable, what has happened? Why did you go off alone so?"

Gollum turned away, trembling. "Job to do," he said. "That was it."

"I was afraid that you didn't like it here," said the Man. Bilbo noted that he spoke a little more slowly, clearly and loudly when he addressed Gollum than he did when he addressed Bilbo.

"O no. Nice Man! We had a job, that is all," said Gollum. "Couldn't do it. Back now."

"I am happy to see you back."

"Is he?" Gollum asked himself.

"Yes, very happy."

"Peoples aren't happy to see Sméagol."

"I am, and I hope you'll come with me," said the Man. "I'll run a cold bath for you at once, if you would like, or bring you a meal- I expect you will want both." As he said that he glanced at Gollum's dirty, blistered hands with a look of alarm.

"Faelon, is it?" Gollum ventured.

"Yes, it is!" said Faelon. "You're getting much better at knowing our faces. And I am getting better at knowing yours, you look hungry and tired- wouldn't you like to come with me?"

"He might not want us to," said Gollum. "I, I hurt somebody."

"Why, that is a shame," said Faelon. "How did that come about?"

"He grabbed at us, he did," said Gollum, "and I was angry, and- we bit him."

"Is that all you want to say about it?" Bilbo asked in surprise.

"Yes. No," said Gollum. "Sméagol was frightened." He fidgeted.

"You said before that there were two men and they tried to rob you," Bilbo said cautiously. For the sake of Faelon, who looked like a nice sort, he hoped that Gollum had been telling the truth about things and wasn't trying to cover up for something worse. Why would he not tell the whole story now, if he was truthful?

"They did, they did, gollum, they grabbed us," Gollum sobbed. "Tried to carry us off. Wanted the Precious, gollum, gollum! I don't have it. It's gone. Gone. Gone." He rocked back and forth and rubbed his fingers together.

"You can stop, I think," said Bilbo, a trifle alarmed, "that's enough for him to get the flavor of it and perhaps you can tell the rest when you're calmer."

"They ought not to have tried to carry you off, Sméagol," said Faelon. "I'm certain you were frightened. You are much smaller than a Man."

"We thought he'd kill us," said Gollum, still rocking back and forth.

"If that is so, then it was not wrong of you to bite," said Faelon. "But that is not my business- my duty is to protect and care for you, and I will do this duty until you leave my care, and I'll care for you now, if you'll let me." He held out a hand.

Gollum hung back and scuffled and muttered, but then he shuffled at full speed towards Faelon. He started tugging at the Man's sleeves and making little pleading sounds. Faelon at once gathered him into his arms and stood, cradling Gollum to his chest.

"Ach, sss!" the creature cried. "Be careful- sss- Sméagol is battered and bruised- don't touch his back."

"I'm sorry to hear it," said the Man, adjusting his grip. "Is that better?"

"Yes- yes- that will do, yes yes." He clung to Faelon's chest, shuddering. "Nice Man, nice Man..."

Faelon carted him off, so anxious that he seemed to have quite forgotten Bilbo, who hung about in the garden for a moment, preparing a pipe. He felt he needed a moment to collect himself after all of that.

Click the arrow to see artwork for this chapter.

Back to Home | Back to Table of Contents | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter