[Nurumaiel]

Robin sat quietly in a chair, holding her bandaged arm and gazing into the flickering fire. Many of the others had already gone to bed, though some were still awake; yet Robin showed no signs of leaving the fire.

Dinodas watched her worriedly from across the room. She had been like that all day: not saying a word to anyone, just being lost in her own little world, looking as though she would never come out of it.

She's taking Emerald's death hard, I think, Dinodas thought. But, then again, aren't we all?

He stood up and walked over behind Robin’s chair, and laid a hand no her shoulder. She made no move. “Robin,” he said softly, sitting down next to her. “I know you’re taking Emerald’s death hard, but you’re starting to get me worried. You hardly took a bite at supper today.”

Robin did not answer.

“Please, Robin, say something,” Dinodas begged. “I’m more worried than you can imagine.”

Robin turned her face to Dinodas, and he saw that it was sad, but not sorrowful. She looked like… well… like he had always imagined the Elves looking like as their time to leave Middle-earth drew near.

“I feel so strange,” Robin said quietly, so the others in the room wouldn’t hear. “I can’t cry because I can’t believe Emerald is gone. I know she is, but I don’t know at the same time. I can’t explain how I feel, Dinodas.”

She turned away, and he looked at her gently. The more he looked at her, the more he thought of his sister, and of Emerald. Tears came to his eyes, and he hurriedly brushed them away, ashamed of almost crying with Bullroarer in the room. A quick glance at Bullroarer told him the great hobbit was looking at him, and his look almost seemed to say, “I know, Dinodas. I feel the same.”

Robin suddenly turned back to him, and her face was strange. “I know now,” she whispered. “She is gone.” And then she flung her arms around Dinodas’ neck and cried into his shoulder.