Title:  The Long Dark
Author:  Emma Keigh
E-mail:  emmakeigh@ithilas.com
Rating:  NC-17
Characters:  The usual suspects.
Pairings:  Aragorn/Gollum
Category:  Challenge. Non-consensual (m/m rape) sex.
Status:  New
Date:  19 February 2003
Archive:  Slashlords’ Fuh-Q-Fest Archive and where posted; elsewhere 
please ask first
Series:  none
Website:  http://www.ithilas.com/chezemma
Summary:  In Moria, Aragorn recaptures Gollum.

Disclaimer:  The characters and melieux from The Lord of the Rings are 
the property of the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema (AOL). 
I only play with them from time to time for my own amusement and 
without compensation. No harm; no foul; no profit.  Anything or anyone 
new, however, is mine (left-overs again!).  

Warning:  This story contains an explicit scene of non-consensual sex 
(m/m rape) between adult males of different species.  If you are under age 
or don't care for this, LEAVE NOW.  I don’t know where this Aragorn 
came from.  Not beta-read (I couldn’t bring myself to ask my usual beta-
reader to touch this).  You have been warned.  

Notes:  Slashlords’ Fuh-Q-Fest challenge.  Gollum/Aragorn is considered 
“hard.”  Now I need to go take a shower — not a cold one, a nice, long, 
hot shower with lots of soap and a scrub brush.

THE LONG DARK
a Gollum/Aragorn story
for Slashlords’ Fuh-Q-Fest
by Emma Keigh

“We must face the long dark of Moria.  Be on your guard.  There are 
older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world.”

Moria.

Precious.  It’sss here, We can feel it.  It’sss calling to us.

We knew there was a door.  It opened from the outside, in the big space 
with dozens and dozens of dwarf bones and goblin arrowses.  The thing 
outside pulled down the door.  Gollum.  Gollum.  Now we’ll never get out.

Nine of them — men… a dwarf… an elf… and hobbitses.  Four hobbitses.  
One of them has the Precious; one of them is a Baggins.  Nasty, tricksy 
thief.  We’ll follow them, and when they’re not looking, we takes it back, 
and we’ll have the Precious again.

Ack!!  The man in the pointy hat makes a light.  Hurts our eyes, it does.  
It’s no man, precious, it’s that nasty wizard.  The nasty wizard with all his 
questions.  Gollum.  Gollum.  Poor hobbitses, poor men, can’t see in the 
dark like we can.  Nasty elf, he can see in the dark.  He can hear us, too.  
Must be quiet, precious, move in the shadows.  They will rest soon.

So loud they are, with their talking and stumbling over the rocks and 
bones.  Haha!  They don’t know what waitsss for them.  They don’t know 
what else lives deep beneath the mountain.  So loud they talk we can creep 
closer and closer.  That voice, precious, we’ve heard it before.  From the 
marshes, yessss, the man who caught us and gagged us, and forced us.  
The man who walks like a elf, yesss, precious, it’sss him!  It’sss him who 
took us to the Elves!

We are hungry, we are, and they have food and water.  Here there are no 
fish, there are no worms or grubs even, just rocks and dwarf bones.  But 
we will wait.  We can go without food and water to get the Precious back.  
They’ve stopped, but the Elf watches.  The nasty Elf with eyes that glow 
blue.  Gollum.  Gollum.  The nasty Elf does not rest with the others.  We 
will have to wait, precious, until the Elf sleeps too.  

We watches and watches, and climbs and climbs, all the time we can feel 
the Precious so close to us.  Always the Baggins is with the others.  He 
talks with the wizard and walks with the other hobbitses.  We will have to 
be careful.  All the hobbitses have nasty elf swords.  We can wait, 
precious, until they stop to rest again.

This time the Elf does not watch.  It is the other man, the noisy, smelly 
one, who sits against the wall while the others sleep.  This is our chance…  
Gollum. Gollum. …to find the Baggins and takes the Precious back.

***

Aragorn knew that smell.  He gritted his teeth against the bile that rose in 
his throat at the memories of tracking the creature through the Dead 
Marshes, then force-marching him to Thranduil’s palace.  It was Gollum.

The Ranger lay still in his blankets, breathing silently through his mouth, 
listening for the creature’s approach.  He knew what the creature wanted; 
Gandalf had told him of the overwhelming obsession the Ring left in its 
Bearers.  The wizard had cautioned him against killing the creature, as he 
had yet some purpose.  Aragorn scoffed at the idea of Gollum’s 
importance, but he had long since learned not to question the wisdom of 
the wizard.

The furtive, scuffing sounds came nearer, bringing with it the all too 
familiar smell.  Could it be that no one else smelt it?  He had seen the 
Hobbits wrinkle their noses from time to time; though they could smell the 
creature, they knew not what it was.  Without moving under his blankets, 
Aragorn coiled his muscles, then with one quick movement, pounced on 
the slimy, gangly creature.  He risked being bitten, as he had been in the 
marshes, but he clamped a hand over the slash of a mouth and held the 
chin and nose tightly.  It took his entire body weight to quell the creature’s 
struggling, and he used his belt to bind the lanky arms and legs.  Tearing a 
strip from his blanket he fashioned a gag, and once he had the creature 
trussed securely, he dragged him away from the rest of the company.

“Stay, Boromir,” the Ranger called quietly to the man who watched.  “It is 
nothing.”  He tucked the creature under his arm and made his way into a 
side corridor.  The dwarf city was riddled with halls and alcoves, and he 
had already scouted a ways down this passage.

Gollum was just as fell and slimy as he remembered.  He carried Gollum 
to the edge of the light, and dropped him to the stone floor in the shadows.  
“I should leave you here, bound and gagged,” he whispered harshly.

Once on the floor, Gollum curled into a ball, his back to Aragorn.  Scars 
crossed the creature’s back where there had been open sores and running 
wounds when he’d found him before.  He drew back his foot to kick at the 
pathetic lump of skin and bone, but instead he slid his toe under a bony 
shoulder and lifted, rolling Gollum onto his back.

The wide, watery eyes stared at him, pleading in silence.

“Is it mercy you want,” the man asked, “or pity?”

Gollum ducked his head, but kept his eyes on the Ranger’s.

“I told you what I would do if I ever found you again, did I not?”

A nod was accompanied by a strangled grunt.

“I am a man of my word, Gollum.”  He pulled at the fastenings of his 
breeches, and let them drop to the floor, and lifted his tunic to expose 
himself.  His manhood was soft, but with one hand he deftly stroked 
himself to hardness.  Another push with his booted toe moved Gollum 
deeper into the shadows.

“I promised I would teach you to stay away from Free People, did I not?”  
He lowered himself to his knees, still stroking his organ, spreading the 
leaking fluid over the head and shaft.  He pushed Gollum’s legs toward his 
head, bound as they were with his arms, and ripped the filthy cloth from 
the fleshless loins.

Roughly grasping the shriveled sex, Aragorn squeezed, and Gollum 
squirmed and squealed beneath him.  Moving his hand, his fingers 
encountered nothing but ridged scars between the flaccid organ and the 
puckered opening.

“So they gelded you as well,” he observed, then turned Gollum face down 
on the dust-covered stone, his arms and legs folded beneath the emaciated 
body.  “Did they use you first?” he wondered.  He thrust a finger deep into 
the tight entrance, than another.  “Did Sauron’s orcs take you like this?”  
With no other preparation, he pushed his leaking member into the fell 
creature.

Gollum’s cries were stopped by the gag, but Aragorn did not ease the 
pressure behind his thrust.  He pushed all the way into Gollum, and held 
the bony hips to his groin.  “Do you feel that, Gollum?” he whispered, his 
voice low and harsh.  He pulled back and thrust again, each time stopping 
to hold at the deepest penetration.  Each thrust was faster and harder than 
the last, until the Ranger poured his seed deep into Gollum’s body.

He pulled out before he softened, and yanked the gag from Gollum’s 
mouth.  He wiped himself with the clean ends of the cloth, then refastened 
his breeches.  Using only his foot, he rolled Gollum over once more.

The pale eyes were closed, and the wide mouth gaped open as his head 
lolled on a limp neck.  Aragorn retrieved his belt, unbinding the arms and 
legs, and left the creature in a pool of semen and blood.

Returning to his bed, he answered Boromir’s hushed question.  “No 
matter, my friend.  The creature will not trouble us again.”

The End

© 2003 Emma Keigh
1,304 words