Chapter 15: Blood Is Thicker Than Water

I do not suppose that, when a drunkard reasons with himself upon his vice, he is once out of five hundred times affected by the dangers that he runs through his brutish, physical insensibility; neither had I, long as I had considered my position, made enough allowance for the complete moral insensibility and insensate readiness to evil, which were the leading characters of Edward Hyde. Yet it was by these that I was punished. My devil had been long caged, he came out roaring. I was conscious, even when I took the draught, of a more unbridled, a more furious propensity to ill. It must have been this, I suppose, that stirred in my soul that tempest of impatience with which I listened to the civilities of my unhappy victim; I declare, at least, before God, no man morally sane could have been guilty of that crime upon so pitiful a provocation; and that I struck in no more reasonable spirit than that in which a sick child may break a plaything. But I had voluntarily stripped myself of all those balancing instincts by which even the worst of us continues to walk with some degree of steadiness among temptations; and in my case, to be tempted, however slightly, was to fall.

- Robert Louis Stevenson, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

"You'll be all grown up in a few days, eh, Sméagol?"

Déagol's cousin said nothing. He lay stretched out on his back in the grass, with his hands folded behind his head, and glared up into the sky.

Many would have been glad for silence from Sméagol- but only those who had not caught on that if you could not hear him, you might suddenly discover that you could not see him either and did not know where he was and perhaps he was right behind you.

"Thirty-three," said Déagol. "You are practically elderly, dear heart. I don't s'pose you'll have time for these outings anymore. You may have to work for your living. You may have to go out and fish even in the rain. Maybe you'll get married, how would you like that? She'd expect you to get a job."

Sméagol rolled onto his side, his back to Déagol. In fairness, he technically did have a job- he was one of the more skilled fishermen in the village, but notoriously unreliable, and as he could count on Gran's hearth and home until she finally kicked off the mortal coil, he was none too motivated to stop being unreliable.

"Anyone ever asked to go out with you yet?" said Déagol.

Sméagol rolled over to face him, nearly snarling. "I know what you're about, Déagol. Stop it!"

"What am I about, then? I'm just making conversation, I am-"

"If you're leaving this village you're leaving it alone, my love!"

They often referred to each other by such appellations. It had started off as a sarcastic game, after Déagol's mam had told them to stop being so rude to each other. Maybe it still was a game. They didn't really know why they did it anymore. Perhaps it was due to having no one else that would tolerate them taking such liberties.

This habit drew looks of disapproval and disgust in the village but so did everything else the two of them did.

"Fine," said Déagol. "You know what the deal is; if you will not hear about my plans you must never again complain about how you're so misunderstood and put upon and how your life here is miserable."

Sméagol flung himself down and rolled onto his side again.

"Of course, you're right, darling," said Déagol. "No one appreciates you, around here." No one else had come to realize the rather obvious fact that Sméagol's skill with a boat and his uncanny memory- and his utter lack of scruples, in certain situations- were well worth putting up with his dark moods and a bit of whinging.

"I don't needs you to tell me that," Sméagol grumbled. "You might stick up for your poor old cousin once in a while instead of telling me to come along with you and turn bandits, and roam all over this big cruel world and get my neck broken."

"Stick up for you, the way you do for me?"

"I don't try to talk you into wild schemes that'll get us killed, do I, dove?"

"How wild is it?" Déagol whined. "I just want to leave this stinking place, and all of the other awful piddling little settlements, and follow the River a bit, and if we find any travelers, we might get something nice from them. You're strong and quick, it would be easy for you. It wouldn't be so easy for me, with my bad leg. Have pity!"

"Just because I can do it doesn't mean it's so easy."

"Well, I can't do it at all," Déagol sniffed. "At least you're an only child."

"I am an orphan."

"I know you, my love; I says you'd rather have no parents than have to contend with a passel of brothers, and mooning sisters. You've your own room, and it's a fine big room and I'd guess you've never found any babies toddling around in it." He almost brought up Foxglove, the orphan his mam had taken in, the most obnoxious of the lot, who even though she had moved out was still always around and always toted in her squalling new baby- but Sméagol, despite being Gran's coddled pet, might view a complaint about an orphan as some kind of insult, given the current turn of the conversation. "Why do you think I'm out here with you and never with any of my kin closer to home?"

"Because they're as nasty as you are, my dear," Sméagol sneered.

"And you aren't?"

Sméagol let out a long hiss of annoyance.

"If you ever changes your mind," said Déagol, "I will be happy to take you along, and no one else ever will, so you'd better have a good long think."

Sméagol started to turn towards him and Déagol braced himself for a fight, but then Sméagol turned the other way, with a huff.

Here was the first bit of good luck all day! Sméagol's short birthday party had been rather tedious, especially with how Gran always fawned over him, and then he hadn't even been properly thankful for Déagol's present, and he had gotten into one of his moods when Déagol brought up his idea again and had charged off to go poke around the bank instead of fish, and then a giant fish had almost drowned Déagol in the River, and now he was covered in mud, but this ring! This beautiful ring made it all worthwhile!

A shadow fell across Déagol's hand. He had been so absorbed that he did not understand what had happened, though this same shadow had often fallen over him, just as silently as it did now.

"Give us that, Déagol my love." The voice was soft, and cool.

Sméagol? Déagol had left the nasty old noser on shore. He was too quick by half, he was. And what did he mean, give it to him? What had Sméagol ever done for him aside from mock his brilliant ideas? "Why?"

"Because it's my birthday, my love, and I wants it."

The sheer nerve of him! Déagol did not turn to look at his cousin, and if he had, and if he had seen the glint in those pale eyes, perhaps he would have been a little bit more diplomatic- but perhaps not. He was angry. "I don't care," he spat. "I have given you a present already, more than I could afford. I found this, and I'm going to keep it." 'My birthday' this. 'I'm an orphan' that. Déagol had been dragged near a mile through mud, he had.

"Oh, are you indeed, my love."

Cold hands fastened around Déagol's neck from behind. He choked and spluttered, he scratched and kicked. One hand remained closed fast around the Ring. Sméagol must not get it, he must not, it was Déagol's. Why did Déagol put up with him? Nothing was worth such treatment as this!

That was the thought that remained uppermost in his mind, as they struggled and fell into the water, without the grip around his throat loosening. It did not occur to him to think that Sméagol had pummeled him before but never gone for the throat. It did not occur to him that Sméagol was bigger and stronger and that no one would be around to hear Déagol scream even if he could get enough air to scream.  

He only thought that Sméagol must not get the ring. It was not his. He was stealing it. He must not steal it.

Déagol began to see stars, and he rolled in the water, and he saw his cousin's face pale and glaring over his, full of malice. Déagol could not breathe.

He spat. Sméagol always yelped in disgust and let go when he was spat at, no matter how angry he was. Not today. He only gripped harder. Déagol's chest ached from want of air, his head pounded.

Surely Sméagol- his own kin- would not kill him. He would only choke him unconscious and then take the ring. He will take my ring, was still his thought, and then- then at the last, the very last- I am dying. I don't want to die. I'll never leave the village. I haven't gotten to do anything yet. He could not get enough air to plead for his life. He should not have to plead for his life. This was his cousin. His friend.

He will not let go, Déagol realized. Thief! THIEF!

His last living thought was: How I hate him!

When told that Pippin planned to go on the outing Gandalf leaned back and folded his hands. "Well, Mr. Took," he said, "and why do you wish to do so?"

"Why," said Pippin, "I don't see enough of good old Boromir these days, and he'll be along. And I suppose I feel as though if Frodo can't go, it would be a good thing if someone else can, sort of in his stead, and it makes sense for that to be me, I think."

"Frodo is no longer responsible for Sméagol. You, certainly, never were."

"I know I don't have to, but I think it'd put Frodo at ease, and also- I suppose I feel a bit bad for Gollum. I mean, Sméagol."

"You may use either name if he is not present," said Gandalf. "I myself call him Gollum from time to time, although I am endeavoring not to, because it would be detrimental to his recovery if I were to accidentally call him that to his face. From time to time I must still see him, for a little bit longer. But you aren't required to do so."

"He must be lonely without seeing any hobbits," said Pippin. "I get lonely if I go too long without seeing anyone but Big People. And after all I suppose I am a bit curious about him. I have heard so much about him, and he seemed different from most of it when I saw him, although he does gollum in his throat and call himself 'precious', and he does only have six teeth. But I really didn't mind him very much."

"Ah," said Gandalf. "I must warn you, he is not likely to respond in a manner that pleases you if you interrogate him. I found that experience dreadful."

"Do you know, Gandalf, he told me to ask you about him?"

"Did he? And why did he do that?"

"Well, I suppose he didn't exactly tell me. You see I was asking questions, and he asked me what I would do to find out the answers if he wouldn't tell them to me. I said I might try asking you, and he said I ought to. He said you had already found out his secrets and I didn't need to find them out again, or something of that sort. But he wasn't angry, or anything like that. Actually, he was asking more questions than I was, and- I think I said I wouldn't ask more questions if I was bothering him, and he seemed sort of upset by that, as if he was worried about making me angry."

Gandalf puffed on his pipe a while before answering. "I do not know anything about Sméagol that I have not already shared with you. I would advise you not to inquire into his life too closely, for whatever he has to say would only serve to upset you. I dare say he would benefit from your company, but I doubt very much that you will benefit from his."

"Still it seems the right thing to do," said Pippin.

Unfortunately, since Gollum was nocturnal that meant night travel, which Pippin found a bit depressing. But he did get to watch the sunset alongside good old Boromir. He would be riding a horse, and Pippin would be in the cart with Gollum- and Merry, who had decided he might as well come along too.

They spent the time waiting in pleasant conversation. Merry and Pippin first wanted to know if Boromir was drinking his tea every day the way he should be. He was. Then the hobbits talked about whatever they liked, and Boromir listened. He was intensely interested these days in old Took family stories, outdated Shire gossip, and anything that had nothing to do with Denethor or with Gondor or even with Men.

Mid-sentence Pippin saw that a sturdy-looking, fair-haired Man was approaching, with a squirming, chattering bundle in his arms. The only words Pippin could make out were an occasional, emphatic "-my precious!" or "Yes, precious!" or "No, no!"

"Why, that is Sméagol, unless I am very much mistaken," said Merry.

"Yes, indeed!" said Boromir, looking up brightly.

"He's being carried!" Pippin exclaimed. And by choice, judging from how he was hanging onto the Man and babbling away to him.

"Yes, he is. He is quite able to walk," said Boromir, "though his fashion of motion looks strange, at times. He was weak for a time and had to be carried, and it seems he has grown to enjoy such attentions from those he trusts."

This reminded Pippin that he himself had unexpectedly become too big to be carried by friendly Big People, at least, not unless it was an emergency, and he felt a bit sad. He'd once enjoyed riding on Boromir's shoulders.

"He's indulged in this matter because it is easier to carry him than to lead him," Boromir continued. "I am told he is easily distracted and will wander away to explore, and he creeps behind objects, or underneath them, and he is unexpectedly swift, and he has a knack for becoming muddy or wet."

Gollum had started twisting around and apparently asking to be set down. The Man carrying him complied and Gollum ran up to them in a shambling gait, wide-eyed. He stopped a few feet away. "Hobbits!" he cried.

"Hello there!" said Pippin.

"It is Pippin," cried the monster from Bilbo's fireside tales, with an open-mouthed, doggish grin that showed off his fangs. "And Meriadoc! Why have they come?" He made a motion as if he wanted to dart forward, then caught himself. He looked around, suddenly wary, and he eyed Pippin's armor with awe and a bit of alarm.

"I'm sort of a- well-" Pippin started to say.

"Pippin is a Guard of the Citadel," said Merry. "And I am a guard of Pippin for the day."

"A guard, is he? Of this big place, the city of Men?" Gollum stared up at him. He looked very much as if he thought Pippin the one who was a figure from a tale, and himself quite ordinary. "Very well, if he says he is. Hobbits can do anything, can't they? Next they will be telling Sméagol hobbits can fly," he said, in a lower tone, to himself, "and he'll believe them, my precious."

"We can't fly," Pippin said, feeling a little bit foolish. "Although- I suppose there are the Eagles."

"That is different," said Merry, "the Eagle flies, and the hobbit hangs on for dear life."

"Eagle?" Gollum asked.

"An enormous bird," said Pippin. "Gandalf is friends with them."

"Friends with birdses, of course he is," said Gollum, looking and sounding a bit exhausted. "But why is a Guard here? What is he guarding?"

"I'm just along for the ride in case they need me," said Pippin. "I thought you and I and Merry could get better acquainted."

"We did say we'd invite you for lunch sometime," said Merry. "And then we got busy and didn't do it, so we're here now."

"Is that it, my precious? No, no, they didn't come and see us, but they are here now! They are both here!" Gollum chortled to himself- a strange sound in his throat, like the burbling of a stream. "And Boromir is here too!" he said, looking up.

"Indeed," said Boromir. "Greetings, Sméagol."

"Greetings! Greetings!" squeaked Gollum. He started to move forward, but Boromir sat astride a horse, and Gollum did not seem to like the look of the animal very much at all- he withdrew.

The Man who'd brought him stood behind at his shoulder.

"Greetings to you, hound-master," said Boromir.

"My lord."

"I had a question for you, not on the matter at hand. Have you any litters at present?"

"Yes, one."

Boromir's gaze was far away. "It has occurred to me that my father is in need of something- distracting."

Pippin stared at him. He could not imagine the austere Denethor with a puppy. But I suppose Boromir is the one who could get away with giving him one, if anyone can, he thought.

"I see," said Eardwulf. "As you wish, my lord. I would be happy to discuss the matter on your return."

"Of course," said Boromir.

"I wish you safe travels."

Something cold and wet touched Pippin's leg. He jumped, then looked down to see that Gollum had nudged him.

"Eardwulf looks after us," said Gollum.

"I see!" said Pippin. "He was carrying you, wasn't he?"

"He says we doesn't weigh hardly anything, precious," said Gollum. "Poor skinny Sméagol! But- he is a strong Man, eh?"

Eardwulf stood there stiffly and said nothing. 

"Hello, Eardwulf!" said Pippin. "I'm Peregrin, son of Paladin. I'm very pleased to meet you."

"Merry Brandybuck at your service, or Meriadoc son of Saradoc if you would rather," said Merry. "Pleased to meet you as well."

Eardwulf bowed. “I am Eardwulf, son of Cenulf, and it is a great honor to make your acquaintance.”

"Eardwulf is a hound-master," said Gollum. "Sméagol is a pretty hound, isn't he?" His hands did feel just like a dog's nose.

"You need not worry that we think you a dog, Sméagol," said Eardwulf. "I have never heard a dog worry that it is a dog, so plainly you are not one. And Faelon, your other favorite, tends the gardens when he does not tend you; are you a flower?"

"No... no, we are not," said Gollum, with a frown.

"He certainly doesn't look like one," said Merry.

"And he does not smell like one," Gollum asserted.

"Not at all. But I am afraid I must return to my duties," said Eardwulf.

"Goodbye, goodbye," said Gollum. "He cannot come along?"

"I cannot," said Eardwulf. "I will see you on your return."

"Goodbye, then, until we comes back."

"Thank you for bringing him," said Boromir. "You'll be notified as soon as we return, which ought to be in the morning."

The Man bowed and left.

Gollum sat on the ground and observed Merry and Pippin. He seemed in no hurry to budge from where he was.

"Come on, then!" said Pippin, beckoning awkwardly. He could not help but think that Gollum did seem a little more like a dog than a hobbit. "Let's all get in the cart."

The Man driving the cart had not acknowledged Gollum except to dart occasional apprehensive glances at him. Gollum looked over at him, then away. He hopped up into the cart. Merry and Pippin climbed in and sat down. Gollum crouched at their feet, blinking.

"There is nothing else to wait for," said Boromir. "Onward!"

The cart rolled forward. Gollum fidgeted as if he did not like the motion. "Those other Men aren't here," he said.

"Which other Men, Sméagol?" Boromir asked.

"Eardwulf had two Men meet us. They woke us up."

"Ah, yes. They will be coming along on trips when we expect to see orcs," said Boromir.

"Sméagol expects to see orcses today," Gollum said, leaning conspiratorially close to Pippin. There was a scent of rotting meat on his breath. "Boromir thinks none are there."

"I hope none are there," said Boromir. "If any are they are well hidden."

"We will see," said Gollum, with a jaded glance. "We will see. I am here to find what is well hidden, aren't I?"

"That is so. But the entrance was sealed," said Boromir.

"I have been in many places that were intended to keep me out. Yes, many. So have orcs."

"Unfortunately, that is true."

The cart rocked through the quiet city. Night had fallen in earnest and no one appeared to be around but guardsmen.

"He has a sword," said Gollum suddenly, and Pippin looked down to see the creature's gleaming eyes fastened on the scabbard on his belt. "That is good, yes- if it is for orcs."

"It's for just in case," said Pippin. "I've heard there are some not so nice Big Folk traveling about these days, too."

Gollum winced. "Yes, yes, that is so."

"Say, you haven't got a sword, Sméagol," said Merry. "I've never heard of you ever having one either. Is there any particular reason you don't have one?"

"Ha, ha! Does he think Boromir would give us one?" He glanced over at Boromir under half-lidded eyes.

Boromir returned the glance.

Merry studied him. "Say, I don't know," he said, "would you, Boromir?"

"In fact, I attempted it," said Boromir. "I have heard the tales of mischief that Sméagol accomplished with empty hands, and I thought, since when his works were turned to malice, being unarmed did not stop him, surely now he may be allowed the means to defend himself properly. I thought it would put him at ease, since he expects trouble. But he would take no sword."

Pippin glanced down at Gollum, sprawled on the bottom of the cart, and tried to decide how he felt about trying to give the pallid creature a blade. Gollum did not seem aggressive, but he didn't seem entirely trustworthy either.

"Why didn't you want a sword?" he asked.

"Can't," said Gollum simply.

Boromir shook his head. "He claims that if he picks up a blade with intent to use it, it slips from his hands," he said.

"We are not- not allowed," said Gollum in a faint whisper. His pale eyes grew wide and haunted, and he peeked up at the hobbits with an air that was almost apologetic.

"But Boromir said you could have one," said Pippin.

"Not allowed," said Gollum more firmly, and now with a trace of impatience. "Not allowed!"

"Do you mean by the Ring, Sméagol?" Merry asked. "I don't think it's in charge of what you're allowed to do these days."

Gollum's eyes bulged at the word ring. "Ach," he said. "It doesn't matter! Doesn't matter. We do not know how to use- steel, and we do not like it. And it is heavy. And it is hard for Sméagol to stand up and swing around something heavy at the same time." He looked down at his long fingers and flexed them, muttering something too low to understand, but Pippin got the feeling that it was something like These are my weapons, though perhaps not phrased as clearly.

"Alright," said Merry. "I'm not so sure other people would like you to have a sword anyway."

"O no," said Gollum. "They would not. We told Boromir, eh, but he said he did not care!"

"I said that surely the King would understand that he needs to be able to defend himself," said Boromir.

"And so he does not care," said Gollum amiably.

"I dare say people would think Boromir shouldn't have taught me how to use a sword," Pippin laughed, "but he did."

Gollum looked at Pippin's uniform, and then up into his face. His expression was shockingly like that of the small children who ran up to Pippin in the streets of Gondor to get a look at the hobbit 'prince'.

"I was quite silly when I got here," said Pippin. "And inside I think I still am. I’m only a guard because Boromir got badly hurt protecting me, and I felt so sorry over it that I made a promise to Denethor to do whatever he asked of me, and he made me a guard. But I’m not anyone very important and often I don’t know what I’m doing at all. Do you know, a troll fell on me?"

"Is that so!" The lamplike eyes moved over to Merry. "Him too? He has a scar." He traced a finger across his own forehead in the shape of Merry's scar.

"This was compliments of the orcs," said Merry.

Boromir's jaw tightened and he looked straight ahead.

"Nassty orcses," Gollum fretted, rubbing his fingers together. He tucked one of his long hands into his pocket.

"What have you got in your pocket, Sméagol?" Pippin asked, thinking perhaps it was time to change the subject.

"My own things," said Gollum, with a wary sideways glance. "Nothing nasty. They are only my own things, Sméagol's things."

"Oh. I didn't mean that I wanted to take anything away, you know."

"But," said Gollum, in a hushed voice, as if he was speaking of something dangerous and secret, and a little frightening, "I has something- yes- Sméagol has something for the nice hobbit- he'd almost forgotten."

Pippin found this alarming, but it did not seem wise to show it. "Why, what is it, Sméagol?"

Gollum rooted in his pockets. He removed a small object- a rock- and swiftly passed it into his foot, holding it tucked between his webbed toes and the ball of his foot- apparently that was not the present. He withdrew a folded piece of paper and unfolded it, primly smoothing out the creases. "They asked us about our family."

"Why yes, we did ask that," Pippin said.

"It is what we remember." He looked up at Merry and Pippin, seemingly unsure of which to hand the paper to. Pippin reached out to take it. It was slimy.

It looked for all the world like a crude, smudged semblance of a hobbit family tree, but with one unusual feature: a few of the names had X's over them, with KICKD OWT written next to them, and Sméagol- son of Béagol and a woman known only by the phrase 'Dont Remember', who both had the KICKD OWT message, along with another tag- DIED- had scribbled intensely over his own name and written KICKD OWT BY EVRYBODY!!! There was also the name Déagol, who had a single word: MURDURD.

"Why were your parents kicked out, Sméagol?" Pippin asked, with a little shudder over the MURDURD.

"Gran did not like Sméagol's mother. She had to leave, and father had to go away too if he wanted to be with her." He lowered his voice. "Sméagol isn't sure he should talk about it, but the nice hobbit won't tell anyone, eh, will he?"

"No, no, of course I won't if you wouldn't like me to!" Pippin said, handing Merry the paper ('oh thanks for that, Pip', Merry said, when he felt how slimy it was). "That sounds very romantic, Sméagol."

"Romantic- what is that?"

"That your father loved your mother so much that he would leave the village to be with her."

"Romantic means foolish?" Gollum asked, blinking.

"No, no, no," said Pippin, "no, it means, um... sentimental. Nice!"

Gollum frowned. "It was not nice! It was silly. He ought to have let her go. He went away with her and they both lived in a shack in the forest with nothing to eat and died, and left tiny Sméagol all alone, rooting in the dirt like an animal, they found him. But perhaps he needed to start early on." His voice was bitter. "Lots of practice I've had."

"Oh," said Pippin in a small voice. "I suppose that's another way to look at things. I- I have also heard that if you love something you ought to set it free."

"You don't remember your mother's name?" Merry asked.

"No. Everyone always told us she was mad and from a nasty family and we should not care about her."

"If they really said that to you I don't think that was very nice of them. She was your mother," said Pippin. He wondered what his own mother was thinking right now, about him going off for so long, and if anyone thought he and Merry were dead, and if any one of them would go home to find his things being auctioned off like poor old Bilbo had.

"Yes, she made Gollum," said the wretch, with dry amusement, "a poor silly hobbit she was!"

Pippin could think of nothing to say to that.

"I'm sure she didn't know what she was doing," said Merry.

"O no. Imagine if they knew," said Gollum breezily. "They died before I did anything nasty. I was very small, I was; it was a fire, I think. Yes. Yes, everyone thought it was very silly that they had managed to burn up with the River so close."

"That's not very nice to say about someone who died," said Pippin.

"Why? It was silly," said Gollum. "Everyone said so."

"But it's not fair to call people silly for dying, is it?" Pippin asked, now thinking of Frodo and his parents who had done nothing more wrong than want a nice outing in a boat, and had had all sorts of rumors shared about them, some of which had gone beyond the normal bounds of hobbit-gossip and become quite nasty. "Because your parents weren't there to explain why they had been where they were and how they had come to die. Maybe it wasn't silly at all and everyone just assumed." He wondered what people were saying about where he'd gone off to, and if anyone was making up stories about how he'd died. I bet they'll never guess I was almost crushed under a troll, he thought.

Gollum withdrew, looking thoughtful and a little alarmed. "Yes- yes- that may be," he said. "There were rumors about everyone, and some of them were not true, and some of the true ones were not believed, when I saw them happen! But- still, it was silly of them to go away, and live where it was not safe. Fire! Heat and light and pain, pain. It is such a frightening way to die." He shuddered.

"But they were kicked out, you know, Sméagol," said Merry. "It says so right here in black and white. KICKD OWT."

"And- and they may have had all sorts of reasons for wanting to go away," said Pippin, now imagining what his own poor parents would think if Pippin had such dreadful things to say about them. "It doesn't sound as if your family would have been very understanding about it."

"O," said Gollum in a tiny voice. "That may be. They didn’t understand lots of things."

"So- you oughtn't call your parents silly," said Pippin. "I'll bet they never wanted to die and leave you alone."

"I... I do not know," said Gollum. "I won't say anything more about it."

Boromir had been quietly letting them talk, but now Pippin noticed that he looked uncomfortable. And well he might, when the subjects of parents and fire came up (and when Gollum talked of it in such a horribly cavalier way). He tried to think of a way to change the subject, but before he could Gollum said:

"Boromir says Pippin saved him from fire!"

"Well, sort of," said Pippin. "I went and got Gandalf and he saved Faramir and woke Boromir, and Boromir got up and saved his father, even though his leg was bad."

"But they would all have burnt up if Pippin hadn't fetched Gandalf?" Gollum asked.

"Yes," said Merry, before Pippin could answer. "Pip's a hero."

"He saved them," said Gollum. "He needn't bother about little things, like who pulled who out of where. That is all silly. Like the master. Master got rid of the- the Precious."

"You helped," said Pippin.

"Yes, I helped him do it," Gollum said.

"But it wouldn't have gotten in the fire without-"

"Without Sam," said Gollum, with a warning glance. "Yes, yes, we knows it."

"Oh, absolutely it wouldn't, but also-"

"What is the Shire like?" Gollum was tracing patterns on the bottom of the cart with the tip of his finger, "Lots of little hobbitses?"

"Yes, ever so many," Pippin said. This was a nicer subject than the Ring, and a much nicer one than the fire.

"What do hobbits do?"

"Often nothing," said Merry. "I miss it."

"We eat meals together," said Pippin, "and we play games, and tell stories, and a lot of us are farmers or we make things."

"And they goes a-wandering," said Gollum. "Yes. Finds dragonses and monsters."

"I dare say we are not known for that!" Well, perhaps the Tooks are, thought Pippin.

Gollum blinked back at him, quite calm. "No? That was before. Now you are wanderers and heroes. Yes, yes! That is what they thinks of hobbits in Dale, ever since Baggins went. Now it is what they thinks of hobbits in Gondor. And they are right, because that is what hobbits really did."

"Well, maybe you're right about what Men will think, but I'm not sure the Shire will agree," Pippin said. "You know, most of them don't think you're a real person, Sméagol."

"They tells tales in the Shire?" Gollum asked diffidently. "Tales about- Sméagol, eh?"

"No," said Merry. "We've got one story about Gollum, though."

"Ach! Yes, yes, I know that story well enough," said Gollum. "What would happen if Gollum really turned up, I wonders? Swordses and arrows?"

"Are you planning on turning up in the Shire?" Merry asked.

Gollum looked suddenly, surprisingly shy, and his voice was quiet. "No. Of course not- not if- not if we are not wanted, no, but I- the King says we might not stay here forever, and I do not know where I'll go."

"He says that?" Pippin said. "Strider told us he'd keep you as long as you want to stay." He also said he'd keep you as long as you're not wanted elsewhere, he thought, but didn't say that part- he didn't think Gollum would like to hear it,

"He said- I might not wish to stay," Gollum said. "I thinks he does not want us here, but everyone says that is not why. Boromir is about to say that is not why. Very well. Even if that is so, perhaps he is right. The city is big and strange, and it frightens us. Maybe we would learn it. Maybe we would stay at home and not bother about it. Maybe we will want to go away, but I do not know where else to go, and Sméagol wonders what would happen if he did try to turn up where all the hobbits live. He could stay out of sight, yes!"

"Why, I don't know what would happen," said Pippin. He didn't think anything good would happen, though. "A lot of people think Bilbo, well- invented you, if they listened to his stories at all. I dare say people would go along with it if someone introduced you and never brought up, er, the things you'd rather they didn't bring up."  

"They did not listen to him?" Gollum asked.

"Not everyone."

"But he has much to say if they listen."

"I think that's the problem," said Merry. "Don't worry about it- Pippin and I listen to him enough for everyone. So does Sam."

Gollum cracked his knuckles and said nothing.

"I should hope being heroes of the age will not much alter your people." Boromir said suddenly.

"It won't," said Merry. "I don't think most hobbits will care or notice."

"You will visit, won't you, Boromir?" Pippin asked.

"The ceilings are low in your homes," said Boromir. "I will not fit."

"They are rather low," Pippin laughed. "When you visit you will have to stoop."

"You and I might have to stoop when we get back," Merry pointed out.

Gollum went to the side of the cart and hauled himself up on it, glancing out at the sleeping city. He looked a little depressed, Pippin thought.

"Tell the creature to move away from the front of the cart," said the driver. "He is making the horse nervous."

Gollum looked alarmed and went back to his spot huddled on the floor of the cart. "We makes horseses nervous," he grumbled. "What am I going to do to the horse, eh? I am the one who ought to be nervous, and-" his voice dropped- "I am."

"You know, Sméagol, you are also a wanderer and a hero by your standards," said Merry.

"What? No," said Gollum, chidingly.

"There you have it, Boromir," said Merry. "I dare say most of the Shire will react like that when we get back, if we try to tell them that hobbits are heroes. 'No'."

"No?" Boromir exclaimed. "You are at the least a wanderer!"

"Wanderer- yes, I suppose," Gollum said, and shook his head. "Not a hero. Don't say such silly things."

"Wouldn't you like to be a hero, Sméagol?" Pippin asked. "You've earned it."

Gollum looked tired. "No. Not I." He closed his eyes, and looked pained.

"Do you not like the city?" Pippin ventured. A change of subject once again seemed appropriate.

"No... no, we got lost."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I quite like Minas Tirith."

"Why?"

"The people are lovely," said Pippin. "And it's beautiful, I think."

"Good taverns too," said Merry, "although perhaps you don't go in for that, Sméagol. Do you drink?"

"Water, lovely cool water."

"No ale?"

"No, no- what is ale?"

Pippin stared at him.

"Ale is a drink," Boromir volunteered, "not unlike beer or wine."

"Ach, it is like orc-liquor," said Gollum.

"Not hardly," said Merry. “If you do come to the Shire, you’d better not say anything like that.”

"We do not drink such things. It burns in our throat and makes us not know what we're doing." Gollum pulled himself over the edge of the cart again, this time keeping well away from the horse. "Smooth stone," he said. "Sweeping tall things. You likes that, do you?"

"Yes-"

"We climbed up things and we went up, up like a mountain," said Gollum. "Like a tree of rock, it was, and there was nice pigeons at the top, yes!"

"Why, I've not climbed the buildings," said Pippin. "There must be a great view from up there." For a moment he was surprised that Gollum was so interested in pigeons, and then he noticed Gollum licking his teeth and remembered what kind of food he ate.

"The view from the wall is something to see," said Merry.

"Yes, yes, the wall, it is high up! We could see everything! No. Not everything. Too much to see everything. It is so vast. So big," said Gollum. "Did he see the fountains? They says there are four. We only saw one."

"I know where the others are," said Pippin. "I could take you around sometime if you'd like."

"What? No, no," said Gollum, flattening himself to the bottom of the cart. “He ought not.”

“Why not?”

"Sss! Ask Gandalf. We're going to sleep now- in case we cannot later."

"Okay. Good night."

Gollum balled himself up and looked like an inert pile of clothing. Pippin was going to have to be careful to remember not to put his feet on him.

“Why do you suppose he thinks Gandalf would not want me to give him a tour?” he asked Merry.

Merry shrugged. “It does sound like he might wander off.”

They stopped a safe distance from the blocked up tunnel- a small heap of rocks that could hardly have been known as an entrance. Gollum had woken up a little while ago, though he no longer seemed to have very much to say. When the cart stopped he started taking his clothes off.

"Too hot, Sméagol?" Merry asked, only his eyes betraying a hint of distaste.

"The clotheses smell of Men," Gollum grumbled, rolling his cast-off things into a bundle and shoving them into a corner. "Man's hands. And horses.” 

“Does that bother you?”

“No, not I, but Orcs smells Men a league away, especially if they are hungry, and they are all hungry now."

He hopped over the side of the cart, now clad only in undershorts, and started rolling around in the dirt.

"I have known this to be true of orcs," said Boromir to the staring hobbits. "He is correct, but I don't see how it could have been helped." He glanced at Gollum, now pasted in dust and a dun color all over but for his staring eyes, and tactfully looked away. "I wish you the best of luck," he said.

Gollum ambled away without an acknowledgement. Perhaps he had not realized Boromir was talking to him. He cautiously approached the tunnel entrance, sniffing at it. Pippin looked away, distracted by a motion of Boromir's horse, and when he looked back Gollum had vanished.

"Do you suppose he'll be back?" Merry asked. "Does he want to escape, do you think?"

"I would not expect so," said Boromir. "Surely he would have taken food and water with him, as it is here for the offering, and he would not have abandoned his clothing."

"Suppose he's not much of a strategist," said Merry.

"He left his clothes with everything that was in his pockets," said Pippin, pointing at the small, shabby, sad bundle of cloth. "He had 'his own things' in his pockets, you know. He seemed attached to those things. I should think he'll be back for them. And it's a pretty bad place to escape to. And he wouldn't have been saying he didn't know where to go if he planned to go somewhere right away, would he?"

"No, not if he was being honest about it, I suppose," said Merry. "But if he doesn't know what to do he might try anything. I heard he absolutely insisted on doing this sort of thing, going on scouting missions."

"He did," said Boromir. "He wouldn't be talked out of it."

Merry shrugged. "Maybe he wants orc-liquor and doesn't think Strider will give him any."

"To my knowledge we do not keep stores of such drink," said Boromir.

Pippin looked at the pile of rocks. "We're waiting until morning for him, right?"

"Yes, and then someone will come to relieve us. I plan on having someone watch for the next day and night, and if he doesn't emerge we will go in to attempt to retrieve him- or to find out what is so compelling in that tunnel as to have kept him. He is right to suspect that orcs may have returned," Boromir added. "We did not have the resources to watch the place daily, and no doubt they are desperate for refuge. But I brought a few Men with me yesterday to look at the place and found no signs of them. It is my hope that Sméagol will tour the place, find nothing and return, and be content to remain where he ought to be for a while."

The country was bleak. Pippin shuddered, thinking of Sam and Frodo plodding their weary way through this kind of place with such a guide as Sméagol, and a much nastier Sméagol at that.

"Well," said Merry, reaching into his pocket. "I don't plan on sitting here and staring at rocks." He withdrew a pack of cards. “Would you like to learn a Shire-game, Boromir?”

“Certainly I would!”

Merry started dealing three hands of cards.

They were in the middle of teaching Boromir to play cribbage when Pippin looked to the side and saw two gleaming eyes staring back at him. He leapt to his feet with his hand on the hilt of his sword, Merry following suit and Boromir somewhat more slowly.

"It is Sméagol, it is Sméagol!" Gollum cried. "Don't take out the steel and the blades!"

"Ah! You have returned," Boromir cried with relief. Pippin sheathed his sword, blushing.

"O no, no no," said Gollum. Huddled against the ground and still coated in dirt, he looked like a rock with eyes. "We have not yet returned for good, there is more to look at, there is another branch of tunnel. But Sméagol is so terribly thirsty; might he have a bit of water?" His voice was tiny and sad.

"Of course he might, that is a small request," said Boromir, and since Pippin just so happened to have positioned himself nearest the provisions, he pulled out one of the water skins.

"Here," he said, handing it to Gollum. "Say, you'd better not turn up so quietly again, Sméagol. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Anything like a whack from his sword?" Gollum asked with a sideways glance. "Ha, ha! He has the right idea, in these lands, gollum! Sméagol will stay back. A nasty place, this is."

Pippin hovered nearby in case Gollum needed any help with the waterskin- he did not know exactly what was wrong with Gollum or what he might not be able to do. However, he seemed to be perfectly able to manage the waterskin.

"Ah, nice water," he said after draining half of it and handing it back. "Nice hobbit! And now we must go back." He looked a bit wilted when he said that.

"I wish you good fortune," said Boromir. "Will you take some food before you go?"

Gollum licked his teeth, but shook his head. "If anyone is there, they will smell it on us," he said. "Off we go, off we go."

He flopped off back towards the tunnel.

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