I found ada pacing around in one of the pavilions. I lingered at the entrance until he noticed me. His eyes met mine. It was such an unfamiliar look he gave me that I found myself looking away.

They are in the woods of Lothlorien, he stated. I looked at him blankly. Your grandmother has spotted them.

Suddenly, I realized he must be talking about the fellowship. I sat on a bench, listening silently. But there were only eight that entered Lorien.

My stomach lurched. I looked up at ada with pleading eyes, hoping that it wasn't Aragorn. He sensed my anxiety, and knew I was hoping it was not Aragorn.

It was Gandalf, not Aragorn, that is no longer with us.

It felt like someone had dropped my heart out a window, but at the same time, it felt like someone was there to catch it. My head fell to my chest with sorrow, but ada caught a glimpse of a twinkle of happiness in my eye. He did not mention it though, for he knew I was very sad Gandalf was gone. My eyes, now glistening and wet, stared out into the woods. The slight smile on my face had disappeared, for reality had finally hit me. There was very little hope left now. But I did not lose all hope.

Ada put his hand on my shoulder. Aragorn may not return, he said.

Where ever he goes, I shall follow.

But what if his life comes to an end. You cannot follow him to death.

There is a way, I replied.
**********************************************************

I did not find much pleasure in talking, anymore. It lost its meaning a long time ago. No longer will it be helpful to me, because this is a time where only I can make the final decision. The only time when any kind of talking was worth while was when I would talk to Bilbo. I did not have much to tell him about, but he did have a great deal to tell me, although a lot of it did not make sense. Mostly, I liked to read what he had so far in his book, which I found to be very well written. He did not add very much to it these days. It seems that time was finally beginning to leave it's mark. But one day, I did decide to tell him a little of me and Aragorn.

Do you remember Aragorn, son of Arathorn? He was a man, with dark hair and blue eyes. You might have known him as D'unadan.

Duna..... oh yes! As a matter of fact, I do. Very good with a sword. Not a bad song writer either I might add!

Yes, that's him, I smiled as I pictured Aragorn and Bilbo talking quietly over a drink and a pipe. I remember the very first time I met him.

Bilbo smiled. Tell me about it.

It was amazing, I said. I told him of the dinner and how we snuck out together. I laughed just at the thought, for the first time in ages. I finished by telling him of how he kissed me on the check before I climbed into my room, and spent some time alone, thinking about when I was young. I left out the part where ada got angry at me, because it did make me a bit upset when I thought about what he said.

Sounds like good times. It reminds me of the time..... But that was all I heard, for I began to think about other times we had together, the good and the bad. And even the bad times we not horrible. Not like this. I mean, being without him at all. Then, I focused back on Bilbo's story, and kept my mind off Aragorn for the rest of the day.