I hate it all.

Why can't I just fade? Then all this pain, all this suffering would leave.  At least it will all be over soon.

We all stand outside the black gates of Mordor, but Merry is not at my side.  He is in the healing houses at Gondor.  But I could not stay with my best friend.  My cousin is a knight of Rohan, and I am bound to Gondor, I am bound to a dead steward.

Gandalf is talking to someone. I don't care to listen. I miss the Shire. The Shire I will never see again.  I look sadly up to Beregond.  His face is proud and stern.  He is also a good friend.

Yet I wish it would all end. 

I am weary. So tired now, and always.  I think of Frodo and Sam, and it makes me hurt worse.  We shouldn't be here.  Why is this our fate?

The fellow that Gandalf was talking to has turned and fled.  But there is a great army of orcs coming.  I look up at Beregond once more.  He looks indifferent.

As the orcs come upon us, I can only hope that it all ends soon.  I hope that Merry comes to an easier fate, as I know all of us will perish anyways.  And I hope Sam and Frodo also die painlessly.

Die.

This is all I can do.  This is all I can hope for: a quick death.

And yet, as orcs rush at us, I think about mushrooms, and how me and Merry used to sneak them away and eat them, laughing the whole while, or how Farmer Maggot would yell at us, but we never paid any heed.   

A single tear rolls down my cheek.  There is a troll, picking up men and snapping their necks.  One approaches Beregond and knocks him to the ground.  I stab the troll with my sword. Apparently I got him where it counts, as he begins to fall.

I look at Beregond. His face pales as he watches the troll fall.  It all happens slowly.  As it falls, sounds disappear.  I think of the Shire and Bilbo and all the fun I had.

And then, all I know is pain.

My eyes are growing cloudy…I can hardly see.  But I hear someone call out "The eagles have come!"  That is a shame…. I wish I could have seen one…but now all is dark.  I am tired.

So I sleep.

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