[A/n:] Hey all! It's me, coming to you from an airplane! (Well, that's
where I wrote this thing...) So anyway, I'm using my sister's laptop to
watch "Fellowship" and got a spark of inspiration for another depressing
one-shot! So, here we go.
***
He's gone. The wizard has fallen. Just like that, he has left us. Alone.
What's this I see? These beings around me...my friends. They're just crumbling, falling all around me. Weeping. Sobbing. Mourning for your lost friend. The dwarf tries to go back, to save him. But it's too late now. The madness is almost tangible.
I've seen death before. I've been in battle time after time. But never have I felt loss such as this. Is it really as mortals tell us? That once somebody has "died", they're gone forever? How is it, then, that we are allowed to go on living?
I've lived thousands of years, and I sound like a child, asking why his pet is no longer with us. But I guess that's how we all are, just figuring out the mysteries of life. No one really knows for sure.
It's so strange, really experiencing death. I feel as if I'm going to turn around, and he'll be there for us, to guide us. But as I look back at the doorway to those cruel mines, I know. I know he's really lost.
Aragorn tells me to pick the Halflings up. I try, but my once light limbs seem heavy. My mind has thought this through, but my heart refuses to believe. The Halflings too, seem reluctant to leave. Or is it pure grief?
The Ringbearer seeks solitude. I do not blame him. Gandalf was like a father, a guardian. Really, to all of us. But him most of all. It breaks my heart to see this strong team rendered helpless.
I look towards the horizon, the distance. Aragorn is right, we must press on. Determination rises within me. Gandalf's sacrifice will not have been in vain.
We will forge ahead. We must.
***
He's gone. The wizard has fallen. Just like that, he has left us. Alone.
What's this I see? These beings around me...my friends. They're just crumbling, falling all around me. Weeping. Sobbing. Mourning for your lost friend. The dwarf tries to go back, to save him. But it's too late now. The madness is almost tangible.
I've seen death before. I've been in battle time after time. But never have I felt loss such as this. Is it really as mortals tell us? That once somebody has "died", they're gone forever? How is it, then, that we are allowed to go on living?
I've lived thousands of years, and I sound like a child, asking why his pet is no longer with us. But I guess that's how we all are, just figuring out the mysteries of life. No one really knows for sure.
It's so strange, really experiencing death. I feel as if I'm going to turn around, and he'll be there for us, to guide us. But as I look back at the doorway to those cruel mines, I know. I know he's really lost.
Aragorn tells me to pick the Halflings up. I try, but my once light limbs seem heavy. My mind has thought this through, but my heart refuses to believe. The Halflings too, seem reluctant to leave. Or is it pure grief?
The Ringbearer seeks solitude. I do not blame him. Gandalf was like a father, a guardian. Really, to all of us. But him most of all. It breaks my heart to see this strong team rendered helpless.
I look towards the horizon, the distance. Aragorn is right, we must press on. Determination rises within me. Gandalf's sacrifice will not have been in vain.
We will forge ahead. We must.