[Mithadan]

Mithadan looked at the Hobbits retreating back as she rushed down the hall headlong to wherever her fate would bring her. He shook his head sadly. A remarkable race, these Hobbits. Quiet, peaceful and rustic, yet capable of great bravery and greater deeds. The breaking of their small fellowship grieved him greatly, all the more so because there was no guarantee that Child would survive to be rescued; indeed no guarantee that she would live beyond tomorrow. Yet this did not stop her.

He had not even had the opportunity to tell Child that he and Pio had spent an evening agonizing over their choices only to reach the conclusion that to attempt the rescue of any of the Hobbits at this time presented too much risk, both to the Halflings as well as to he and his friends. He thought back to Idril's words to Child when they resolved to undertake this task: "Not all things in this world can be mended, little hobbit. Remember that."

But these words gave him little consolation. He felt an overwhelming need to act, but knew he could not. And the unfulfilled need tasted almost like cowardice.

[ August 08, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]