WW LXXXII: Return to Tol-in-Gaurhoth

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The vision of fair Lady Thinlomien lying dead on the cold and rough stone-floor haunted skip as he paced to and fro in the dim half-light of the dungeon a stone’s throw away from the other prisoners. He stopped with a shudder of fear and disgust, and then drew a deep breath and closed his eyes in an effort to regain control of his mental faculties. And now, slowly, the horrid imagine on the back of his eyes would transform into the beloved shape of the princess Finduilas, and it was spring-time in a green, sunlit meadow, and she was running towards him wearing a white dress, smiling brightly with warm and loving affection, eyes keen and sparkling, her slender arms reaching out for him to embrace.

An epiphany, skip thought to himself as he opened his eyes again, and although he felt a brief but painful sting of guilt for momentarily thinking only of himself, he could not help to realize that this dreadful event was the perfect chance for him to achieve what he had set out to do, that this was the very reason he had come along on the perilous expedition in the first place. Courage returned to the Noldo. He would reveal and extinguish the lost souls among them, these dark shape-shifters, these cruel hounds of Sauron, and he would save his friends from certain death and emerge triumphantly out of the underground with them, and Finduilas would see him for the great hero that he truly was, and then she would surely love him as he loved her and they would finally be together, always. This is how it was meant to be.

Skip returned to the others with a determined look in his eyes.

Right then. Time to hunt some wolves. Will be around on and off the rest of the Day. First a shower (enough of the uncloaking jokes now!) and then I'll try to catch up!