Authors Note - Challenge was a fantasy based on the Lord of the Rings Trilogy but only using one of the actual characters - Gollum.  Plus Precious had to be anything except a ring, and there are three quotes in bold.

Word count was between 1600 and 2400 - this is 2396 (not counting this note!)!

The dwarf, Drokkur Stonecutter, sat outside the guardhouse, his red bushy beard catching the last rays of the sun as he polished his axe. There might no longer be armsmen to train, but that wasn't going to prevent him from looking after his own weapon.  

The slanting light picked out the dust in the courtyard, a courtyard that once would have been swept as clean as Milady's best china plate.  

There was no disputing it, Whitehorn Hold had seen better days. The blue slate roof was cracked in places, the moat, once filled by fresh mountain springs was dry and covered with weeds. The ancient drawbridge, so long left down that Stonecutter doubted it could ever be raised again, threatened to give way under anything heavier than a single horse and cart. 

Perched atop a mountain at the head of Durin's Pass, for centuries the castle and the town below it had been a bustling waystation for travellers; humans, dwarves and more rarely, elves, anyone leaving Eriador to venture forth into Rhovanion. Stonecutter remembered great caravans of horses and wagons arriving from the lowlands, to set up camp for a couple of days, do a little trading and replenish their supplies of food and water. Then they would be on their way, winding a rainbow ribbon along the pass until they reached Durin's Bridge then the steep climb up, passing below the sentinel of Ironfist's Fortress, before the slow descent to Rhovanion. 

All that had changed with the coming of the trolls. 

In one blood filled night, a band of trolls had attacked the fortress, killing every man woman and child within, and setting up camp in the ruins. Normally not the brightest of creatures, this band had been led by the largest troll any one had seen, with an intelligence to match. Since that night, the Pass had been blocked and no-one had been able to get through to Rhovanion. Many had tried, including bands of armsmen from Whitehorn Hold itself, but all failed. The trolls were immovable. Eventually the caravans stopped coming and travellers found other, if much longer, ways into the next country. 

That had been the start of a long decline for Whitehorn and all those who depended on it, and the caravans, for a living. 

Which was why Stonecutter paused in his task. The sound of hooves galloping over the cobblestones was unmistakeable. Who could be coming to the Hold after all this time, on horseback and at such a pace? 

He rose to his feet and went forward to meet the stranger, his axe held at the ready in one hand. He turned briefly and frowned, as a young man came swiftly forth from inside the Hold to join him.  

"Who comes, Stonecutter?"  

Before he could answer, a man rode into the courtyard and dismounted quickly to stand before them. He was of middle age, his features harsh beneath black hair tied in a knot at his neck. 

He wore a livery of dark grey, a sword at his side and a bow slung across his back. He looked from one to the other for a moment and then addressed them both, speaking in urgent tones. 

"I am Aradiel, here on the King's business. I must see Lord Maloduard immediately. Can you take me to him?" 

"I am sorry,sir, my father is not well. He sees no-one." 

Aradiel turned his gaze on the speaker, a touch impatiently. He saw a boy, not yet quite a man, wearing dark brown trousers, with an embroidered shirt. His short blond hair framed delicate features, presently bearing an expression of curiosity mixed with regret. 

"You don't understand. I have a message from the King, it's urgent that I speak with Lord Maloduard as soon as possible." 

"I'm sorry, sir. Perhaps I was not clear. My father is too ill to see anyone, he has lain in his bed this past year, unable to move or, indeed, speak a single word. I am my father's sole heir. If you like, you may give the message to me and I will see if I can help you." 

Stonecutter was frowning so hard his eyes were like slits. "Perhaps we should all go inside to discuss this, Gwyn. I'm sure our guest would appreciate a glass of wine after his long ride." 

The youth flushed. "Of course, I am sorry. Please come into the hall and I will order some refreshments. Then perhaps you can tell me your news." 

Aradiel followed the boy and the dwarf into the castle, through the dusty hall which showed obvious signs of neglect, and was soon seated in a small parlour off to one side. A maidservant brought wine and biscuits, then left them alone. 

Aradiel took a sip of wine, covering his dismay at the state of things at Whitehorn, before speaking. "I don't know whether you have heard the latest news, but Prince Mylor has declared war in the North. The King marches to defend our borders through the Emerald Vales as we speak. I come ahead of a second force, seeking to travel through Durin's Pass. If we are swift enough, we can trap Mylor's army between us like sheep between two wolves." 

"Sir, have you not heard? Durin's Pass is blocked by Trolls, no-one can get by them," countered Gwyn.  

"I have heard the story but I have a hundred seasoned warriors with me. I do not expect to fail." 

"Do you have elves with you, sir?" asked Gwyn, suddenly eager. 

"Elves? Why, no. No elves have been seen in our land for some years, since they withdrew to Rivendell. Why do you ask?" 

"Some years past, Whitehorn was visited by a wizard, Fearngal the Brown. He told us then that the troll king, Tzoljin, will not be killed by a mortal man. I assumed that meant an elf ... or a dwarf." 

"I tried myself, after that," Stonecutter added grimly, "but I just couldn't get close enough, not with the few men we had left." He paused to drain his glass. "May I enquire what aid you seek from Lord Maloduard?" 

"I was hoping for armsmen, men with knowledge of the fortress and the paths which lead to it. Paths other than the common way." 

Stonecutter was nodding. Aradiel's plan made sense. If they could mount an attack from an unexpected direction ... 

Gwyn lifted his chin and addressed Aradiel directly. "Unfortunately, sir, we have no armsmen, but I know the fortress as well as anyone. I often visited there in my youth, before the troll's raid. I will be your guide, if you will have me."  

"No, my l-lord!" Stonecutter protested, an expression of horrified dismay on his face. 

Aradiel however was looking hopeful. "I accept your offer, lad. Needs must." 

"Your men can sleep in the barracks here tonight if they wish. The rooms are dusty but dry," offered Gwyn. "Stonecutter will show you. I must visit with my father now, but I will see you at dinner." He stood and bowed briefly before leaving the room. 

It was several hours later before Stonecutter found him. 

"What the devil are you thinking, may I ask? You can't go with them, it's out of the question." 

"I must, there is no-one else." Then Gwyn smiled. "Aren't you coming too? You can't tell me your hands are not itching to hold that axe one more time!" 

Stonecutter was still frowning. "Let me see. Certainty of death. Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?" 

"I knew you'd see it my way!" 

"I was being sarcastic, as well you know, milady!" 

"Shh!" hushed Gwyneth, looking around hastily. "Aradiel must not know, or he would not let me come with him. And I must, for some reason, I know it here. " She pressed a hand over her heart then looked soberly at the dwarf. "This is important, Stonecutter, you know it is. Apart from aiding the King, if we can defeat the trolls, Whitehorn will live again." 

~~~ 

The next day found them riding along Durin's Pass, Aradiel following Gwyneth and Stonecutter, at the head of a hundred warriors. The narrow path clung to the side of the mountain, wide enough for only two men to ride abreast. Opposite, on the other side of a dark abyss, rose an even steeper mountain ridge. Atop that range, lay Ironfist's fortress and the way to Rhovanion . When they came to Durin's Bridge, they crossed in single file, many looking straight ahead. 

"Deep is the abyss spanned by Durin's Bridge, and none has measured it. Yet it has a bottom, beyond both light and knowledge." Gwyneth spoke gravely. "The path to the Fortress lies a few yards ahead, but before that is a place we can rest for a few moments before starting the climb." 

Aradiel signalled to his men to dismount and quench their thirst for a moment from their water bags, while he held a meeting with his captains. The main body would follow the established path providing a diversion while he and Gwyneth would lead a small band along a secret way, which Gwyneth swore was known only to herself and the inhabitants of the Fortress. 

The men were starting to mount up again when Gwyneth wandered away for a moment to take a short stop behind a shrub. Concentrating on staying out of sight of the men, she was completely unaware of the creature which crept up over the edge of the abyss and slunk towards her. 

She had just finished her business when the creature attacked her. A grey spidery hand struck at her with a silver dagger while the creature's other hand made a grab for the gold pendant she wore around her neck. 

"Ow! Let go!" Gwyneth wrestled for control of the dagger with both hands. The creature was smaller than herself, with a large head and a thin scrawny body. They fought over the dagger but Gwyneth had learnt tricks enough from Stonecutter to defend herself and eventually she wrenched it away.  

As soon as it realised it had lost the battle the creature began to plead, reaching for the dagger with pathetic cries. "Precious! My Precious!"  

"I'll be keeping that," she said. "What do you think you were doing? Attacking innocent travellers? Be thankful, you didn't get hurt!" 

"You're bleeding! Stand aside! I'll kill it for you," threatened Stonecutter, drawn by the commotion. 

"I'm not hurt," protested Gwyneth. 

To his surprise, Aradiel intervened. "Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends." 

"Very well then," Stonecutter muttered crossly. "Be off with you!" he ordered the creature, "Before I change my mind!" 

The creature cowered away. 

"Where did you get that dirty knife?" Stonecutter turned back to Gwyneth  

"This?" asked Gwyneth in surprise. "It's a dagger, silver I'd guess. The little creature had it." 

"Dagger? It looks like an old knife to me." 

Aradiel spoke from beside them. "It looks like a knife to me, too." He took it in his hand for a moment, then almost dropped it in surprise. "Looks like a knife, but feels like a dagger. Where did you get this?" he asked the creature. 

"Gollum found it, we did. Lost. Gollum's Precious." He reached out for the dagger but Aradiel held it out of reach. 

"It doesn't belong to you. Some enchantment is at work here," he said. "What do you see, Gwyn?" 

"I see a bright silver dagger, the length of my hand." 

"Best you keep it then, until we can seek its rightful owner. Here, Gollum, you can have this instead." He gave him his own knife, that he used for hunting, but Gollum dropped it as if it burned him. "Not Precious. Gollum wants Precious." 

"Well you can't have it! It is too valuable a finding. If you won't take my knife, be off with you."  

A couple of armsmen chased the creature away and Aradiel picked up his knife. 

"Onward." 

The lead scout had just returned to report that the fortress was a mere couple of hundred yards away, when Gwyneth spotted the entrance she had been seeking. From the path, it looked like a crack in the rocks. She pointed it out to Aradiel. 

"It is narrow, but if you can squeeze through, it widens out a little inside." 

Aradiel frowned. It was far smaller than he had envisaged. Stonecutter knew instantly that his own broad shoulders would not fit. 

"It was intended as an escape route for the women and children," Gwyneth explained. "It comes out inside the fortress itself." 

"Ah!" Aradiel brightened. In that case it might be worth the trouble. If they could get someone inside, even if only a few, that might be enough to turn the tables. In the event, only five men were small enough to follow Gwyneth. 

"Take care!" Stonecutter demanded gruffly as Gwyneth squeezed through the crevice, leading the way. 

Ten minutes later, Aradiel lead the charge up the path towards the Fortress. No one noticed as Gollum slipped into the crevice, in pursuit of Gwyneth and the dagger. 

Stone scraped her back as Gwyneth slid sideways though the passage, climbing the steps hewn roughly into the living rock. Her heart pounded in her chest and she held the dagger before her like a talisman. Although she had practiced for years with Stonecutter, she had yet to be in a real fight, a fight to the death. She hoped she could acquit herself with honour. 

They could hear the roar of battle before they came out, suddenly, into the middle of the keep. Gwyneth saw the largest troll she could imagine, looming out of the smoke and dust, coming straight towards her. Without thinking, she threw the dagger, picturing it piercing the very eye now grinning at her in gleeful surprise. 

The troll keeled over as if hit by a rock. Barely had it crashed to the ground when a small figure flew out from behind her, grabbing for the dagger. She heard a faint cry of "Precious!" before it was covered in trolls, seeking to avenge the death of their leader. 

Aradiel and his men poured through the undefended gap, into fortress.