Chapter 18: A Story and a Lesson

"What was we thinking, saying they could go telling everyone about us?"

Gollum's narrow chest heaved- he was sitting up in bed, having just started up in a cold sweat. He had been trying to sleep when he had realized something dreadful.

"Truths never stops rumors," he cried. "Never! It makes more of them, gollum, gollum! They will go about saying we took the Master through secret ways, and that at the last we- we- sss! But we will not speak of it." He shuddered. "Then the peoples will say, 'he knows the Black Lands well, eh? Kept there, was he? Hurt there, they says. How did he get out, then? Our King is saying they let him out. Why? Why do it? He was the last to hold It, before it died and was gone." At this his voice shook. "How could he do it? It was my precious." He blotted his eyes with the edge of his blanket. "We would not believe it," he said softly. "Who could cast it away?"

He dabbed his eyes again; if Bilbo Baggins had been there to witness the scene he might have noticed an alarming resemblance to an elderly Sackville-Baggins with a handkerchief.

"If no one could cast it away," Gollum said, "where is it? Anyone who knows about these things knows it is really gone, my precious, otherwise the orcs would not be hiding in their burrows, the Nine would not have gone, the mountain would not have screamed and wept, and the Eye would not be closed, his Eye..." He stopped here to hide under the covers, shaking and golluming. "But many people do not think of those things," he whispered.

He was thinking of Denethor, who had not believed what had happened. It was rather difficult to believe.

"Gollum, gollum! And all that is if they makes things up," said Gollum. "There are plenty of true reasons not to want us. What if they knows the Wood-men? Or Baggins tells them, the nasty little thing."

He squirmed, unable to shake the feeling that perhaps 'nasty little thing' was not a fair thing to call Bilbo, who had spared his life, and led him home when he was lost. In fact, maybe it had not been quite fair to try to chase him down and-

"You knows it wasn't," he said with a flash of anger. "I know who really is a nasty little thing. Sam is right, he is, the old grouser! Wherever I go Sméagol will come along with us and ruin everything."

But   w as I supposed to let him keep the Precious, when he stole it- stole it and it was all I had?

Bilbo had stolen it, just picked it up without a by-your leave, and 'What have I got in my pocket' was not a riddle. It wasn't, it wasn't! "He cheated first, he did, he cheated, and we said we would eat him if we won," Gollum said in a petulant whine. "If he cheats it means he lost."

"But then," he answered, "why did I show him the way out? By accident, yes, by accident, but it was just as if we really lost, because that is what we said we would do." He muttered: "Sméagol keeps his promises." Yes, all of his promises, his promise to show Baggins the way out, his promise to never let Him have the precious, and his promise to bring Her the hobbits even though those latter two ought to have canceled each other out. He had not even meant to keep all of his promises, and had not wanted to, which was why, perhaps, everyone ought not to be making such a fuss over him for keeping promises.

And was it so praiseworthy to have killed something he had loved and wanted, his precious?

He felt so empty.

"I will just stay here and not see anyone," he decided. He sighed, coughed, and fell into an uneasy sleep, dreaming that he was trying to cook some taters and Sam was yelling at him for burning them, despite Gollum's very reasonable counterpoint that all cooked food tasted burnt.

"Hello! And what are their names, precious?" Gollum asked brightly.

For the past few days, no one had given him any work to do, or taken him for outings, or had much time to spend in conversation with him- everyone seemed busy and distracted and he heard a lot of talk in the hallway about some kind of event that was coming up. That seemed all well and good. Gollum had proved he was useful, and if he ended up needing to leave the city- he would not need to leave today, or this week, and for the first time it seemed to him as if he really was at leisure to do whatever he wanted. What he wanted to do, mostly, was sleep, but it was so hot, and he had so many unpleasant dreams. Not about the things that haunted him when he was awake- images of blood and torn flesh, Déagol's blue face, the empty pit in his chest- but silly things. Such as the dream where he tried to cook for Sam and got yelled at, and also a dream where he was following Bilbo and some Dwarves, sometimes a whole pack of them- sometimes it was a whole battalion of Dwarves that Bilbo was somewhere among like a needle in a haystack. Gollum wanted to find Bilbo and ask him to teach him to play dice, but all of the Dwarves were in the way. Sometimes Gandalf was there too and started batting Gollum away from the group with his staff.

These dreams made him wake easily, and he had just woken from one of them to find four women in his room, picking up discarded clothing. Such housekeeping chores were often done during the day and usually he never stirred, he simply woke in the evening to find dirty things taken away, clean things brought back, and less slime on the walls and furniture.

When he greeted them they had all frozen dead in their tracks and turned to stare at him. One who had been rubbing at the wardrobe door with a cloth stood and said: "I am sorry that we woke you, milord."

"Who does she think she's talking to?" Gollum asked, bemused. "It is only Sméagol. What is she doing?"

"I am cleaning the wardrobe," she said, without a trace of emotion.

"Why? It doesn't need cleaning," he said. "Sméagol does not want to be any trouble."

"I have been appointed to clean it," the woman said. "There is some residue on the door."

"O, very well. But she needn't clean it if it is any trouble." There was too much light in the room- the shutter was partly opened, his eyes stung, and he could hardly see. He crawled forward with his eyes shut, and stopped when he reached the nearest woman's feet. He sniffed at them and squinted up at her.

"Greetings," she said. She sounded nervous.

"Greetings, greetingses. What are their names? No one has told us."

"I am-"

"What is this substance that coats every surface?" another woman broke in. At once one of her teammates scolded her in their other language.

"Ought we not tell her?" Gollum asked.

"Thou mayest answer," said another woman, "but 'twas rude of her to ask."

That was a strange quirk of Man-etiquette. Gollum made a mental note not to ask anyone about any unidentified slime. "I do not know what it is," he said. "It comes out of our handses, our feet and face, everywhere, and it ends up on things I touch or sit on."

"He hath a damp sheen," cried one of the woman, horrified.

"Yes, it is dreadful, precious!" Gollum agreed. "I never knew about it, I was always outside and I thought if things was slimy it was because that was just how they were, or that it was mold. This room is nice! It has no mold anywhere."

"Poor wretch," one of them said, and another added:

"Look how he crawls! It is little wonder that his clothing always needs to be mended."

"Does you mend it, then?" Gollum asked. "It is a treat to have things mended and not to have to wear them until they are so torn they will not stay on anymore."

"Why! Were you a beggar?"

"Worse! Worse!" It occurred to Gollum that chattering away to people like this was exactly what he was not supposed to be doing. "But we are underfoot," he said. "And sleepy, yes. Good night!"

He hid away under the bed, where it was darker and cooler, and was lulled to sleep by the sound of the women arguing in their other language- by the tones of their voices they sounded like his aunts, in the long, long ago days.

A day or so later, he was sitting at the table writing when a knock came at the door.

"Yes, yes, come in," he said languidly. There was no point in saying anything else. Whoever was there would come in whether wanted or not, and it was usually someone with food or water. Though he did not want food at the moment, it being such a miserably hot evening, and if he said so, whoever had brought the meal would be distressed and press him to eat, and it would be tiresome... but water would be welcome. He could use it to refresh the damp cloth that was draped over the back of his neck.

 Faramir entered the room, followed by Eardwulf.

Gollum was pleased to see one of these Men, and desperately unhappy to see the other. He made a few inarticulate noises, which suddenly erupted into a torrent of words:

"It is Eardwulf, it is! Eh, and it is the Steward, he has come to see us? They have come to us, they have not had us brought. No one told us they was coming! No!" He raised his hand to his mouth, coughing wetly.

"I did not think I needed to put you through the ordeal of being brought to me for an audience," said Faramir. "When we met I explained I might need to attend to you if you had some need when the King was busy, and this has come to pass."

Gollum glanced from him to Eardwulf and back again. "Sméagol does not need anything," he said warily. "He has clothes and food and water, and a place to sleep." He realized, at the mention of the King, that Aragorn had always visited him in the room instead of having Gollum brought to him. He wondered if Aragorn was simply accustomed to going wherever he chose whenever he chose. If I was a King, he thought, I would not tell anyone I was coming to visit or why, and I would just turn up in the dark, trying to catch people at whatever they was doing.

"A new room is being prepared for you," said Faramir. "It is larger and better suited for you."

"Is that so," said Gollum. "We likes this room, we does."

"You will like the new room as well, I am sure," said Faramir. "It is within the city and close by. You are not being sent away."

"But this is our room. Why do we need to leave?"

Faramir turned to Eardwulf and nodded. The smaller Man stepped forward and crouched next to Gollum at eye level.

"You are not accustomed to dwell within a building at all, are you?"

"No..." said Gollum. "Not unless it is a nasty cell." He glanced aside. He had not meant to bring that up because it might lead to the question of 'why was you in prison, Sméagol?' His speech was much too free and thoughtless these days.

But Eardwulf did not ask. "Then, no doubt you are fond of this room because it is safe and comfortable. But it was only what was available when you needed a place to stay, it was not chosen because it was suited for you. It is on an upper story, and I am told you are accustomed to a dwelling far, far underground. We have no root of a mountain to offer you, only a cellar, but likely you will find a larger space beneath the earth to your liking. It will not be so hot and dry, and it will be darker during the daytime, sparing your eyes. But if we are all wrong and you dislike the place, you will be returned here."

That all did sound a bit tempting. "Can we keeps our things?" How had Eardwulf known about the mountain? Well, because he was told, naturally. Gollum realized he had never actually found out how much Eardwulf knew about him.

"Of course you may keep your things," said Eardwulf. "You will have all of your things, and all of their familiar smells. You will have room for new things as well."

"More things, he says?" He glanced over the room, which, now that Eardwulf put things so clearly, did look a bit small. It was tall, being a Man-room, but it didn't have room for any new furniture. What might he add if there was more space? "Could have chairs," he suggested. "Big ones for big Men with their long legs like trees, if they're going to come and see us." He glanced at Faramir, who was standing. He looked quite calm, and not as if he was wishing he could sit. "But- but this is our room, it is. I don't want to go anywhere."

"If you really don't wish to we will not force you," said Eardwulf.

"What about the little orcs? They are just down the hall and we goes to see them sometimes."

"I would be happy to bring you to wherever they are for a visit," said Eardwulf. "And they will not be housed there forever either."

Gollum hissed thoughtfully.

"Would you like a look at the other room, at least?" Eardwulf asked.

"A look? A look, I suppose," said Gollum. "And then he brings us right back if we doesn't want it?"

"I shall be bringing you back anyway," said Eardwulf. "It's not finished."

"A look, then."

"Then let us go at once," said Faramir. "We can finish our conversation while we walk."

Eardwulf held his arms out and Gollum scrambled into them. They went out into the hallway.

"I am going to suggest to the King that Eardwulf be given more authority over you," said Faramir. "I think he can handle most things very well without the need for my input, and he communicates with you more easily than I do. Would that arrangement suit you?"

"Yes, yes, precious!" He was hiding against Eardwulf's chest and could not see where they were going, but from the feeling of how he was walking, they were going down the stairs now.

"Ah," said Faramir. "You will be measured for new clothing soon, Sméagol."

"New clothes? Why?"

"What you have now is not fitting for a guest of the King. It was what we could find for someone your size on short notice and it's become worn out." In a different tone: "You may speak to her if you wish, Eardwulf."

Who? Gollum wondered.

"Good evening," Eardwulf said.

A female voice answered: "Greetings."

"I have here the bundle of rags that troubled you so much."

"Oh!"

"We've contacted a tailor," said Eardwulf, "as per your advice."

"Make sure that poor creature has enough room to crawl about in," the woman said, suddenly stern.

"Yes, my lady."

"Don't give him anything that will snag."

"Yes, my lady. Sméagol is still inside the bundle of rags currently," said Eardwulf.

"Oh!"

"He put these items on when he woke up. We did not make him do so."

"Good evening, Sméagol."

It took Gollum a moment to realize she was now speaking to him. "Good evening," he said stiffly.

"I cannot slow down at the moment," said Eardwulf.

"Farewell."

They walked for some time and eventually headed down some stairs, and then it became very dark. Eardwulf set him down on a packed earthen floor, which felt nice and cool and smooth under his hands and feet.

Gollum prowled about, sniffing at things. The room was large, with ample room to scurry about. It was mostly empty. There were some tools left in a corner, which he looked over but did not touch.

The walls were rough brick and climbable. There was a window in one wall, up near the top, with a wide sill. Gollum jumped up, grabbed the sill and pulled himself up onto it. It seemed that on this side only about half the wall was underground. He eased the window open a crack and found that the bottom of it was level with the grass.

It occurred to him that it might look as if he was trying to escape, though he wasn't. He hopped down to the ground and tried to look innocent.

"As you see it is not furnished, but there is something over here I would like to show you," said Eardwulf. He walked to the corner of the room, where there was a curtain. "This section can be curtained off whenever anyone is in here to clean or needs to light the room for another reason, so that you have somewhere dark to stay."

The curtain blocked off a short, narrow area cut into the wall. There was plenty of room in it to pace about and to turn around and look out, but it was a small enough space to feel hidden and secret.

Gollum curled up at the far end of this space with his flank pressed to the wall and blinked out at the two Men.

"Is it cooler down here than in your current room?" Eardwulf asked.

"Yes, yes, much."

"Are there any unpleasant smells we have not noticed? Your nose is keener than ours."

"No, no," Gollum said, and then added regretfully: "Yes, some, there is some kind of food smell on the floor that we do not like much, but it is not strong and it will go away."

"Is it acceptable to you?"

"It is. We will stay here now if they wants it."

"Now?"

"Yes," said Gollum. "If I goes back to my old room you will come back later and tell me I must go. I have been told before that I must leave, and I did not like it. I would rather choose to stay here now and not go back." He thought this reasonable, and glanced at the Men's faces, trying to see if they thought so too.

"The room isn't finished," said Eardwulf. "We were not planning to have you stay here yet."

"Sméagol will stay out of the way when they finishes it. He doesn't bother peoples who clean or bring things."

"It may be best to have him here now, if he's agreeable to that," Faramir said. Gollum jumped- he had not forgotten that Faramir was there, but as he had been silent all this time, he had not anticipated Faramir would speak.

"Perhaps so," said Eardwulf. "The heat has been troubling him very much."

"Would you go see if you can find someone to bring his furniture here? He has few enough things."

"Do not bring the mirror," said Gollum, "if he pleases; we does not want it." As he was asking them to do less work, he did not think the request would be rejected.

Eardwulf nodded and vanished.

That left Gollum alone with Faramir, the two of them silently staring at one another. Faramir spoke first: "I do not hate you or wish ill for you, Sméagol."

"O no," said Gollum. "We did not think he did, precious!" He thought that Faramir might hate him, a bit, but the King had said he had to be nice to Gollum, so it did not matter.

"I have something to thank you for," said Faramir, carefully watching his face. "There is that which everyone now must thank you for, your part in the Quest of the Ring, but there is also your kindness to my brother."

Gollum thought it best not to show any emotion to anything Faramir said apart from 'innocent surprise' if he could help it, but at this he could not help a tiny confused frown for just a second; surely Faramir had seen it. "Sméagol helps how he can, nice Sméagol," he said. "I knows all about orcses."

"Boromir spoke to you of a personal matter," said Faramir, "and he feels that you gave him what compassion could be wrought from your heart, and that there was a flicker of something like pity on your face. Do you know of what occasion he spoke?"

Gollum was quite sure that 'pity' and 'compassion' were what passed from a stronger person to a weaker one- something that shining people like Boromir and Frodo condescended to give to wretched, helpless, miserable creatures like Gollum, and never something that happened the other way around. At first he thought such a reverse transaction was impossible, then it occurred to him that perhaps it was possible but- insulting?

He had no idea what Faramir was talking about. "I- I doesn't remember. No, I don't remember anything like that at all."

"I see," said Faramir. "Perhaps it is your doom to do good in the world without intending or enjoying it."

Gollum didn't know what he meant by that, but it sounded unpleasant. He turned away from Faramir and started sniffing at the ground. There was a faint odor of some kind of root vegetable- he did not know what kind, they were all equally nasty.

"This space was used for storing roots that cannot tolerate sunlight, to keep them safely from the window," said Faramir. "This was a food cellar, as I'm sure you've guessed."

"Food cellar. That's why they're so generous, my precious, they are fattening Sméagol to eat him."

Either Faramir did not realize this was a witticism or he did not find it witty. He gave no reaction at all. Gollum decided their time together was better spent with him huddled in the corner, not saying anything.

It was quite a relief when Eardwulf returned. "I must light the room so the Men can see to bring in your furniture," he said. "I will draw this curtain for you." He closed off the little nook, which made it nicely dark while they lit the rest of the room.

This seemed like a good time to take a nap, as he had nothing to do and had not been sleeping well, but just as he'd gotten comfortable Eardwulf poked his head in. "Your bed has been brought down," he said. "There were some items underneath it-"

"Our stuffs!" Gollum cried, sitting bolt upright, and then canting to one side because his back hurt.

"Nothing has been disturbed," said Eardwulf. "It was obvious those things were important to you, and I thought perhaps you would like to pack them yourself. I have a box you can put them in. Shall we go?"

"Yes, yes, take us!"

His small collection of treasures looked nasty and dirty when it was laid bare. Like its owner, it had never been meant to be seen out in the open.

Here it comes, he thought, picking up a rock and rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. 'Why does you have all these filthy things, Sméagol? What does you want them for?'

Eardwulf said nothing of the kind. He was probably not allowed to make rude comments.

"The rocks feel nice on our hands when we holds them," Gollum said, not looking at Eardwulf's face.

"I see. You seem to have very sensitive fingers," said Eardwulf.

"Maybe." He started throwing the rocks into the box. They weren't fragile, they were just rocks. Other things such as his rubber ball, a handful of jacks, more old coins- those were also not fragile and could be chucked into the box. Then there were the dead bugs, and the dried rodent bones, all liable to crumble if picked up.

He looked pleadingly up at Eardwulf.

"Would you like some help with those things?" he asked.

"No, no... I don't know." He looked over the collection. Gran had never liked him to keep dead things.

Well she threw me out and now I can do what I likes, he thought, trying to work up some anger or at least irritation. He whimpered.

"I would not have offered to help you transport these things if I didn't want you to have them."

"He thinks it's strange."

"I have not said that I find it strange. I can think of many reasons to have such items, but I won't know your reasons unless you tell me."

Gollum pointed at the left upper section of bugs. "These are ones we didn't see anywhere else. They was new, only... these here aren't very nice, they are squished or missing pieces and there is lots like this in the city, so we do not need them." He selected three specimens that were not worthy and pushed them aside. "These all looks just like they are still alive. I don't know how they died. They are perfect, all of the little legs. They are interesting!"

"Here," said Eardwulf, "I'll spread my handkerchief on top of the box, and you can set the more fragile things on top of it, so they do not fall down between the rocks."

Gollum carefully transferred over the dead bugs. Two of them crumbled when he picked them up, so they had to be dropped into the discard pile.

He had a dead spider, perfectly intact. He picked it up and held it in the palm of his hand- its carapace was smooth and cool. I always liked spiders, he thought. I used to keep them in jars. They have so many legs but they're so fast and never trip over theirselfs at all, and they make such clever webs. But I don't think I like them anymore. He set the spider in the pile he was not keeping.

When I first found Her, he remembered, and was begging Her not to eat me, I called her beautiful... I said She was a beautiful lady. Every hideous, wretched hidden thing wants someone to pretend it is not ugly.

And yet, perhaps he had not been pretending. He could not remember if he had really found Shelob beautiful, at one time, and was not sure which was worse- if he had been lying to take advantage of another creature that he presumed to be as miserable and desperate as himself; or if he had been so corrupted as to find her appealing. Shelob was not an innocent little spider that ate nothing bigger than flies and could be kept in a jar by a curious hobbit-child.

He turned away from the sight of the dead spider. "These came from inside mice," he said, picking up one of the tiny skulls. "They are what make the mouse go, but you can't see them from outside, you would never know they are there. This thing is with you always. When you are gone, it stays. It grins and grins, but never laughs. It is a stone you can draw blood from." He stopped, feeling warm in the face. "We don't need these," he said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes- throw them away, nasty things- gollum!" He shoved all of the bones into the same pile as the discarded bugs.

"Very well," said Eardwulf. "I'll hold onto them for a few days in case anyone else happens to want them."

Gollum hissed and muttered. No one was going to want mouse bones.

Eardwulf picked up the box of things. "I will take your papers on another trip," he said. "If I add them to the box something may be crushed. Are there any papers you do not want? Do you wish to look through them, or should I simply bring all of them?"

"Don't want any, they are all bad."

"I would not say so."

"They are all bad, just throw them away. Sss!"

"I will take these down to your new room and come back for you," said Eardwulf quite calmly. He left.

Gollum looked around the room. It was hot and stuffy and small. His pitcher of water had been left in the corner next to a pile of wadded-up cloths that he had been dampening and putting on his forehead and the back of his neck. The sight reminded him of when he had been newly brought here, and for a short while there would be a pile of bandages in the corner just after someone had changed them and before someone came in to clean it up- just like that, only bloodier.

He had spent too much time in far worse places to realize that his old sickroom had begun to feel a bit gloomy. He was only aware of some vague sense of discomfort that he couldn't name.

When Eardwulf returned Gollum approached him meekly, with his head lowered. He felt as if he ought to apologize, although he didn't know what for.

 Gollum opened the window in his new room whenever it was cool enough for him to do so, and sat in the windowsill, putting his thin face up to the opening and taking in the scents the way an ordinary hobbit would take in a view. (The view was not impressive, as he was eye level with the grass. The scents were much more interesting.)

There were guards stationed near the window that just so happened to have a clear line of sight inside and would notice at once if he crawled out. The guards were there all the time, in shifts- they were posted by a building across from the one he was housed in, and that was likely their main purpose, but they could obviously see him and he wouldn't have been surprised if their positions had been shifted a little bit to allow them the line of sight that they had.

Gollum stared in their direction with his eyes round and his nose quivering, looking very like a bald housecat. Sometimes he called out to them, and they were polite enough, but would not come over to speak to him. They said that guards could not leave their posts under pain of death. In that case, they couldn't be expected to come over and entertain Gollum, that was reasonable enough. They could not hear him well when he shouted over to them, either, so he had to give up on talking to the guards.

But if they can't leave they can't stop us crawling out, they're all the way over there, Gollum reflected. Either they had been less than honest on that point, or perhaps they were not intended to stop him leaving, only meant to notify someone else if he left.

There was a span of time in the evening, after sunset, just after he had woken and breakfasted, when people walked about in the yard by the window. And again in the morning before dawn, in the dim hour that passed before he shuttered the window and curled up in the dark and quiet, they came out and started going about errands. Gollum watched their feet passing to and fro.

One day he lingered there past the rising of the Sun. It was such an overcast day that the Yellow Face was quite hidden away. No one was around at the moment. There was a strong smell of rain coming, and he leaned into the open air, taking quick breaths through his nose with his mouth slightly open.

"S-s-s-s," he said. He liked rain. It had been days since he had been outside- he had been told that it was too hot for him to go out, which was true. Today was much cooler.

Those guards can't leave their posts or they gets killed, he remembered. Can't do anything if we leave.

But I make bad habits that way. First I will be going out windows and sniffing about in the grass. Next, I will take it into my head that I can go into the city. Then I'll be trampled by a horse, or something like that.

Just then the rain started. Gollum trembled and stuck his hand out through the window. The raindrops that fell on it were wonderfully pleasant.

Let's try it this way, my precious, he told himself. We'll go out the door, and ask someone if we can go out and if it's allowed, instead of going out through the window like a burglar in our own home, eh? He nodded to himself, and crept to the door.

There was a guard sitting outside. Gollum could not tell if it was a guard he had met before, or someone else of the same build and height. It was still hard for him to tell Men's faces apart when he did not know them well.

Gollum waited quietly to be noticed until he grew impatient and tried to clear his throat politely. It came out as a weird quack. The guard jumped and looked down at him.

"Ha, ha! He should look out better," said Gollum. "He did not even see us." It occurred to him that such comments were a poor way to make friends. "It is only little Sméagol, eh... we wants to ask if Sméagol may go outside, just for a bit, it is so lovely and wet."

"I was advised to tell you not to go out alone," said the guard.

"O, but we are only going out a minute," said Gollum, "not doing no one any harm- and Men do not like the rain."

"I was only told to advise you, not to stop you," said the guard. "Indeed I doubt anyone would be much pleased to be asked to go out into the storm with you."

"And there are guards out there, we will be watched," said Gollum. "We will only be out a minute, yes! Back soon."

He went back into his room to put on his hood, which still no one had confiscated.

When he got outside, sheets of rain were coming down and there were beautiful deep puddles everywhere. O the cold water! O the deep sucking mud! O the wet grass! And there were earthworms lying in places where they were easily found and slurped up, too. Although Gollum only sampled a few of these. They tasted like dirt and cold and they were a bit gritty.

He decided his time was better spent in getting a proper drenching, and in searching for rocks. He defiantly dropped all pretense of stealth, and began to hum and croak snatches of songs, some from his village, some he had heard in Orc-dens, even one he'd heard in the city of Dale (it was originally an ode to Bilbo Baggins... Gollum had changed the words a bit).

Looking up from a puddle, he saw five small figures ambling about in the distance and charged right for them.

Gollum realized his mistake as soon as he was close enough to get a scent. These were Man-children, not hobbits; the taller ones he had taken for Merry and Pippin were two older children, and the stocky confident one he had thought was Sam was a serious-faced little girl wearing a bulky coat.

He stopped in his tracks. Before he could dash away, one of the children called out to him. He backed away. It was one of the older boys, now splashing towards him.

"Hello," the boy said. "Do you need help?"

"Help?" Gollum asked. "No, no, I-” He realized with a thud that he had ambled around too much and did not know the way back. “Sss. Does he... does he know where the place is with the big cellar?"

"No," said the boy.

"Ach! Never mind, then."

"Wait, maybe we can find someone who does know where it is," said the other older boy. "Do you need me to help you up?"

"No," said Gollum. "No, we are as far up as we wants to be already."

All of the five had now come over for a look at Gollum. He drew away like a wary cat.

"Are you Sméagol?" the smallest child piped up.

Gollum muttered curses under his breath. Run, he suggested to himself. That was the smartest thing to do, but a contrary spirit seized him. "Yes, I am," he said instead, and flipped up his hood to show his face. The children backed up, wide-eyed, and he scuttled backwards, watching for any of them to stoop for a rock to throw. Now run, he thought.

One of the children cried out: "Did you really guide the Ringbearer?"

"My mama cleaned your bedroom," said the little girl, "and she said it was slimy. Why is your room slimy?"

"Do you know the Prince of Halflings?"

"Are you an orc? I do not think you're an orc, but my cousin told me you were an orc."

"How did you get into the Shadow Lands?"

"One at a time," Gollum cried in confusion, his heart pounding. "One at a time, Sméagol can only answer one question at once."

The children debated rapidly among themselves for a minute and then one yelled: "Did you really throw away the Enemy's Ring?"

"Ach! Who told you I did?"

"Samwise the Brave!"

"Samwise the Brave?" Gollum laughed, so taken off guard that he had forgotten to be afraid. "That's what you calls him, is it? 'The Brave'. Brave is what you calls someone who goes into dark rooms at night when there is a strange noise. Sam ran at a whole watch-tower full of orcs all by hisself! And he went into a river when he knew he could not swim. And he went straight up the mountain when he thought he would die there! Doesn't you have any stronger words than 'brave'?" And I was going to try to kill him, he mused. I didn't realize what he was, then.

"The Ring-bearer called him Samwise the Brave," said one of the children, mystified.

"O well," said Gollum, contrite, "if the Master said it, then it is alright." He backed up a way, and the group of children followed him. "It is raining," he said, as if he'd just noticed. "They ought to get inside!"

"It's stopped raining," was the helpful reply.

So it had, aside for a few occasional drops.

"Did you throw away the Ring?" someone repeated.

"I, I did. Master told me to," said Gollum.  

"Did you have to fight the Enemy?" a boy asked. "Did he try to keep you from doing it?"

Gollum almost said 'no', but then his eyes grew wide. "I did," he declared. "I did fight Him. He took over the Master, yes, the Master was there to throw the Precious away but- but He stopped him, and I knocked Him down, gollum! And He was invisible, He was!"

"How did you fight him if he was invisible?"

"I heard where he was," said Gollum. "I heard- 'I do not choose to do what I came here to do. The Ring is mine', and I knew the Precious had bitten the Master so I ran at Him and we fought, and He battered me all around! But I won! I would have bitten His finger off for Him if it had gone on another minute." This was all true. It was mostly true. Gollum thought it was probably true. He could not remember anything that was obviously different from what he was saying. And he didn't think Sam had gotten a very good view so there was no one to contradict him. Sam hadn't gotten a good view, had he?

"You don't have enough teeth to bite off anyone's finger."

"Ha, ha! I knows how to use them."

"Why didn't you throw him into the volcano?"

"I did! He was in the Pr- gollum! The Ring," said Gollum. "O He was nasty, cruel and cold, and His touch made you the same way, and He ate your heart, and pressed you under His heel, gollum, gollum! And then there was nothing else. Nothing but hunger, and thirst, and emptiness, and a great Eye of fire."

"Don't cry, Sméagol," one of the little girls said in distress.

Gollum wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

"What happened to the Ring-bearer after you threw away the Ring?"

"I didn't see it," said Gollum. "I got very sick when the Precious went, but when I saw him next, he was the master again."

"Were you scared?"

"Yes! Yes, precious. I thought I would die."

All five of the children were now his rapt audience. Gollum looked at each of their faces and saw no revulsion or horror (a little bit of excited disgust, perhaps, the way children would look at strange insects or dead things or weird frogs). Back in the old days he could have given his teeth for an audience that would do this instead of pushing him away and telling him he was making things up. Today he wasn't even making things up! And he didn't have all his teeth anymore, so he may as well have the audience.

"How did you meet the Ring-bearer?" one of the children asked.

"Sss," said Gollum, the sound of air being let out of his ego. Of course he had met the Ring-bearer by being a nasty little creature on a mission of revenge.

He felt as if it would spoil things a bit if he told an outright lie now, but nor was he about to admit that he had been tracking the beloved Ring-bearer with intent to kill him. He leaned in close and whispered: "A long, long time ago, I had it. What you calls the Enemy's Ring."

"You had it?"

"Yes. Sméagol is very old. He had it a long time."

"Why didn't you throw it away back then?"

"I couldn't!" Gollum cried, scandalized. "I could never have! Not ever. I thought I would die without it!"

"But you didn't die!"

"No," said Gollum. "It lied. It lied about that too I suppose. But I had it a long time, and then one day- Baggins came and stole it!"

"The Ringbearer?"

"No, no, his uncle Baggins," said Gollum.

"The Ringfinder!"

"The Ring-stealer, he was! He picked it up and took it! And I wanted it back. But I was too afraid to go right out after him and by the time I went he was gone far far away. I went such a long way looking for him, through the shady woods, and through the cool rivers, and through beautifully spun spiders' webs, and through the waters of Lake-town, and that is when He tricked me into going to the Shadowlands. They caught me there. O, it was horrid! They let me go because I wanted to find the Ring. They thought they could find me again once I had gotten to it. But they was wrong. They never found Sméagol again!"

"If the Ring was so bad why did you want it?"

"I didn't know it was bad," said Gollum. "I did not want to think so. It had made me old and mean and sick and lonely, but it was the only thing I had anymore and I just wanted it for myself. It was the only thing I liked or wanted. I looked for it as long as a lifetime."

"You must have made a lot of friends."

"No," said Gollum. "Not at all.

"When I found it the Master had it. I didn't know he was a nice hobbit yet and I thought I would catch him by surprise and get my Precious back. Then I could take it away underground where He would never find it, and be happy. But Sam caught me first, and the Master showed me that the Precious was his, and I could not have it back. I had caused him trouble by following him, so he told me I must help him, and in return he would not punish me for being such a nasty wicked thing."

The smallest girl tugged at his clothing. Her eyes were round. Gollum withdrew from her touch, flinching.

"Why did he think you were wicked and had to be punished?" she asked.

"Have I not said?" Gollum said, abashed.

"No. What did you do?"

"I... do not want to tell you what I did," Gollum said, "but it was wicked, very. Gollum! I promised I would help the Master, and be very, very good, and never- never let Him have the Precious! And now I am here."

"You have left a few things out, but I suppose they can hear the more gruesome details when they are older."

"Yes, yes, or never," Gollum agreed, and then he realized that had not been a child's voice. He looked up to see Gandalf's face looming over him. He let out a shrill cry.

"Mithrandir!" the children called delightedly, with the littlest girl adding: "You scared Sméagol!"

"I did not mean to," said Gandalf. "I am afraid I must take him with me now. He's very old, and ought not be out during the day. I hope you enjoyed his story." He started walking away, with a gesture of command. Gollum slunk after him with his head lowered. The children shouted a chorus of good-byes after him.

He waited for Gandalf to scold him. Perhaps with a 'you knows you should stay in your room'.

Instead: "It was not quite an untruth that you would die with the Ring."

Gollum raised his head, saying nothing. His first thought was Eh? and his second thought was He heard that whole thing, then, did he?

"If you had tried to keep the Ring out of the fire to preserve yourself, you would have perished with it. The only way to save yourself was to reject it. And in a last irony, that worked out so that you made an attempt to perish with it and someone stopped you and now you are alive."

Gollum nodded.

Gandalf chose to say more, after a little while. "It is not only a reward that you are still alive, but also just punishment. For you are a creature who must hate what you love and fear what you desire, and thus your punishment must be also a reward and your reward a punishment. You clung to life, when you were damaged enough that you could have released your hold on it, but you wished to live, live a little longer. Live even though your time and your people had ended long ago. So you shall live, Sméagol. You will not be given the reward of the more innocent Ringbearers. They will go where you cannot follow, and you will remain, while everyone who bore your burden and knew what you suffered has gone on."

"Yes, wizard," said Gollum. He did not understand all of this but he did not ask for an explanation because he did not think he'd like it.

"As for the part that is a reward, I do not need to tell you," said Gandalf, "for your desire to live is fierce, and your ability to enjoy the pleasures that are still afforded to you is... admirable. Now. Why were you wandering about alone?"

"I wanted to go out in the rain. Men do not like rain, so I went by myself. I did not mean to go so far. We asked the guard. He said we might go."

Gandalf nodded, and said: "Ring-stealer?"

"He picked it up and walked out with it and it was not his," Gollum protested. "He didn't know it was bad or must be thrown away. He just took it."

"So he did. But it was not his doing that it slipped from you, though you may feel it was his doing that you could not get it back. Do you know what would have happened if you had kept hold of it?"

Gollum frowned. "Yes."

"And what would have happened?"

"One day I would have put it on to hunt," said Gollum. "And I would have felt something looking at me. And soon after, one of the hooded ones would have come for me."

"Perhaps so. But you would have held the Ring when they came."

"They would have kicked me in the head and taken it. I am small."

"You do not believe the Ring would have made you great and saved you?"

"No," said Gollum. "It would have told me it would, so I would have sat there and let the hooded ones come up and kick me in the head, gollum! But all the time it wanted to go back to Him. Nasty false thing."

"That is so," said Gandalf. "It told you you could not survive without it, but to hold it would have killed you. It told you it would make you great, but having it made you a loathsome creeping shadow and throwing it away has made you a hero."

"Not I."

"No? Then, why were you telling your life story to those children, Sméagol?"

"They asked!"

"How did they come to ask?"

"I was asking how to get back and they knew who we was," said Gollum.

“Why did they know you as something other than a monster?”

“Because the hobbits said we was something else, I suppose.” Gollum thought it over. "Wasn't going to eat them," he added.

"I promise you you would not be at liberty to play in the rain if I thought there was any serious possibility you would eat anyone," said Gandalf.

They had reached the building his old room was in. Gollum tugged at the hem of Gandalf's robe. "Don't live here anymore." Gandalf did not at first answer, and Gollum added: "We has a new room somewheres else. It is underground and nice and big!"

Gandalf stopped walking. "And which building is it in?"

"We do not know. Sméagol doesn't know where anything is in the city. That is how he gets lost."

"Ah." Gandalf was silent for a moment before saying: "Well, then. Perhaps you had better come with me." He led Gollum in another direction.

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