After Child, Bird and Rose had left, Mithadan and Pio sat in silent thought. The room became dark and an Elven voice outside the window rose in song praising the stars. Mithadan stood, lit a candle and turned to Pio.
"We have failed, haven't we?" he asked.
"Perhaps for now," responded the Elf with a wry smile. "But we have plenty of time."
Mithadan winced, then spoke quietly. "We could attempt to rescue one load of Hobbits. We could bring them with us through the Secret Way and then Cirith Thoronath." At the mention of that name, he frowned as a memory of something he read once came to him. "No. We shouldn't risk that," he said suddenly. "And we shouldn't set Angara and Bird at odds with each other. I think that we will have another opportunity to 'persuade' Bird to take the shape of a dragon as we escape. And we shouldn't risk the lives of any Hobbits unless we depart before the assault, which I think we will not do. No, we did not plan well, but we can leave with such advantage as we may make for ourselves."
Pio looked at Mithadan curiously. The Man had clearly thought of something.
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Beleriand, Beleriand,
the borders of the Elven-land.
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