Part Two

The days see to grow darker by the hour. "Is it never light in this place?" I inquired of my companion.

"No, I don't think it grows any lighter than this."

I sighed and shook my head. Elves are used to bright places and woods, not dark places and mountains; well, at least we're not. We climbed the stairs of Cirith Ungol. "Ugh, this is a very nasty place. I don't see why Mt. Doom has to be this; wait, I understand. Don't answer that question."

My mellon smiled and kept climbing up the stairs. We heard from a place far above were we were a sharp 'snap!' of a twig. Our eyes went up ward towards the sound. "What's up there?"

Close together, we went up to the noise. There was a loud crash, a sound of clanging, then a loud sobbing. "It must not be an enemy," I told Aramil. "For enemies not cry."

He started up the cliff face. "Sharayah, you stay here."

I am stubborn as anything, as my father tells me. "Aramil Galad, you have been in my father's house for many years. Do you not know of my stubborn nature?"

He sighed and told me "Fine, come on then Shara."

Smiling inwardly at my victory, I raced up the before him. "Come on slowpoke! Catch up!"

He gave an awkward smile as he climbed up behind me. As we grew closer, the sobbing grew louder. "Hello? Hey, we won't hurt you."

I saw the small, tear-stained, scarred and dirty face, and the watering hazel eyes. "Hey, what happened? Are you hurt?"

He shook his head and lay back down to cry more. My mellon came up behind me. "He doesn't seem to be injured or anything, but I can't seem to find out what's wrong with him."

I climbed up beside him and lifted his head. My blond hair fell out of my coif and onto my shoulders. Aramil felt safer and took his coif of also. Blue eyes looked into hazel. I saw no pain or suffering from outward wounds, just the painful wounds. "I feel you have lost a friend very dear to you. Am I right?" I asked. He nodded but sobbed harder.

"Aramil, you try speaking to him." I knew he would be a great help. For as long as I had known him, his oaken hair, and river-blue eyes had always been a comfort when I got scared. My friend went to his side and told him something that I could not hear. The hobbit nodded and slowly stood up. "Shara, you are the one who is used to the small ones in Mirkwood, would you carry him to his destination?"

It didn't take me long to decide. His hazel eyes were full of pain that told a short yet sad story when you looked into them. "Come, up you go."

For being so small, it was no surprise to me that he was so light. "What is your name young one?" I asked.

"Sam," he responded. "Just Sam?" "No, Samwise Gamgee is my full name."

I smiled, though no one around could see it. "Well then Samwise Gamgee, you are welcome to stay with your guides of Mordor."