"… of … West, … you? … by … Valar, … all … years? Your message … fails, … you … mock me, … Adela … not with you. Come, … name, … may … greet thee."
Poppy trembled as she heard snatches of what Maldil was uttering to Gandalf, and it was not long before she heard her own name mentioned. Hearing mocking laughter after this, she tried to hold her head up high, although her heart quaked deep within her.
She flinched as his gaze searched the others, before settling on Nardol. His words were not optimistic, and the hope that Poppy had had grew smaller with each passing moment.
"Poppy Took will not die, nor will she be harmed in any way, Maladil. For I entrust her to your honor. Thus, receive this Hobbit as your guest, and spurn not the hope of those who would see life return here." Gandalf then bent and nodded to Poppy to continue on.
Before Poppy could move, Nardol stepped forward, and laid his hand on her shoulder. As the pale shape that was Maladil looked at them, Poppy felt safer next to the tall elf standing beside her. He had never spoken to her before, but Poppy instinctively trusted him, as he spoke to Maladil, and offered her aid.
Poppy stood as tall as her small stature would allow her,, and looked up to see the shape approach them, while wondering what his response would be.
[ February 11, 2003: Message edited by: *Varda* ]
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'It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them' ~Frodo
"Life is hard. After all, it kills you." - Katharine Hepburn
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