[Imladris]

Gorby

My heart sank to my toes and seeped out of my feet and was lost to the cold ground of the base. The food didn’t look as appealing as it should have, considering how hungry I was. I sighed. I didn’t want to go on and look for Eodwine; I didn’t want to stumble about in the dank and cold; I didn’t want to hear Falco complain and grumble and say how low everybody was when he was the lowest; I didn’t want to practice everything I learned from Meriadoc and Peregrin about honour and nobility; I just wanted to have a decent smoke (I had lost my match and pipe and tobacco long ago), feel the fire warm my wooly feet, and the prospect of a warm bed awaiting me. I sighed again and shook my head. But I couldn’t just let a man die out there…I couldn’t with live myself if I turned my back on him now. Of course, he was probably a corpse by now…but that didn’t matter. He seemed like a brave and honest man, thus he deserved a decent burial.

I wandered my way to Anson -- and stopped. He had fallen asleep on the floor. His face was wan and taught, as if he was having a wearisome battle within himself. I suddenly knew that he wanted to go back and that he had his family, his siblings, to take care of. He had come to accompany me, and what had it gained him? A lost pony and heartache.

I sat down next to him and waited for him to wake up, which the clatter of plates, the laughs of men, and the shouting of Falco all did in good time. “You don’t have to go along with me,” I told him as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. I looked at him hard, and smiled.

I glanced up and saw Lira gliding towards us. She had taken her bandage off, letting the purplish slash dry out so that it could heal properly. It was going to leave a fine scar I thought with some fascination. It really was too bad that I hadn’t gain such a fine one to show off before my hobbit friends. I shrugged. “What do you want to do, Lira?” I asked.

She crouched to the floor and gazed at me. Her wide blue eyes seemed to be glazed with unshed tears, and her face was paler than usual. Her hair was limp and uncombed. “It might be better to go back to Bree.”

My jaw dropped. This was coming from an elf. She averted her gaze from me to Anson and said, “More people will die if we continue to Eodwine who was taken back to this Master. He might be already dead.”

“So you want to let one die, to let the others live?” Anson asked. Lira nodded, and now I was confused. Everything had seemed so clear-cut before she had answered with the typical deepness of the elves.