I stumble blindly after my fleeing companions- I can see nothing. My hands support me against the wall as I stagger after the sounds of swiftly moving feet. Ahead of me, Sam sobs dryly, jogging half-heartedly. My eyes are open, yet I can see nothing.

Nothing? I lie, for I know very well the sight haunting my vision, blocking out all else. Gandalf. My leader, friend, and as close to me as a father. Gandalf, groping in vain for some support, hanging off the bridge. All I can see are his eyes, those pleading eyes, in the depths of which is knowledge of this Middle-earth, that I, not nearly as kind or powerful as he, could ever possess. It is this which plagues me, that desperate yet calm gaze, completely locked with mine, as he bade us to fly.

As our leaderless company falls into the light of the sun, I fall to the ground; such is my despair. I feel tears prickling my eyes, threatening to fall. No, I tell myself. Do not weep yet. Beside me Pippin lays also. I can hear him gasping for breath, his sobs and cries. I shut my eyes tightly, but I cannot hold back any longer. I turn my head as tears pour silently yet steadily down my cheeks.

I can still hear your voice; all the times you’ve scolded me as a young child up to now. And as I hear you speak, I begin to sob.

Why did you leave our fellowship, Gandalf?

Why did you leave me?