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Madoc walked down the short path from the road to the door of Hob's house. He was dreading telling Hob's parents that their son was dead. He had with him a small package of food, a bad replacement for a son but it was all that could be thought of. His feet felt heavy as he walked down the icy path, he wanted to turn around and go back to his own family where he could be happy. 'no,' he told himself 'I have to do this one last thing'. He found himself at the door of the house. He knocked.
The door opened and out stepped a withered old gaffer. Madoc had only seen this man once before, but he could still see the change. His hair was disheveled and a few white hairs were beginning to show themselves. He was sloppily wrapped in an old and dirty blanket. Madoc noticed that the air inside the house was only just above freezing and the fire in the grate was nearly dead, but he wasn't here to worry about that.
Upon seeing who it was, the old hobbit's eyes lit up.
"You're back are you?" he said with a friendly smile. "And with food I see." He motioned to the parcel in Madoc's hands. "You truely are the saviours of the Shire you know, none of us could thank you enough. Oh, would you like to come in?"
"No, thank you, I shall be quick." said Madoc.
"Yes, I suppose you have your family that you want to get back to. No doubt they've been as worried as I have." Madoc felt a pang of guilt about the bad news he was going to give. Hob's father was being so friendly and cheerful though he was plainly hungry and cold, it didn't seem fair. "Speaking of family, where is Hob? Out giving food to the rest of the Shire I suppose, that sounds like him. Did he send you with this food? It's a pity he didn't come with it himself, I really wanted to speak with him as soon as possible. I have some bad news for him, his mother died not long after he left you see..." this was getting worse and worse, he should really just say it and be done with it before Hob's father came out with anything else that would make it harder for him.
"Mister Bolger. You are right, I am here on behalf of your son, but he is not handing out food to other hobbits-"
"He's not? Gone to get himself a drink or two then? Not unlike him and I can't say I blame him," interrupted Hob's father.
"No, please Mister Bolger, hear me out. The reason I am here - aside from giving you your food - is to tell you..." Madoc paused and gathered himself together.
"Yes? Out with it lad!"
"...Is to tell you that your son is dead." he sighed, that was it, he'd said it.
"He's what? Dead?" The old hobbit looked so pitiable, he was beyond Madoc's understanding of sadness and grief and Madoc felt so sorry for him, but he could do nothing.
"I'm so sor-" the old hobbit put his hand up to stop Madoc from speaking.
"Don't be, there was nothing you could do. And anyway they're together and happy now." he paused, "You go to your own home now. Thank you for coming, good-bye!" he went to shut the door. but Madoc stopped it with his foot.
"At least take the food will you?"
"Oh no, there are other people much more deserving of it than me. Now I insist, you go home to your family and have a good time, you don't want to waste the rest of the day standing outside an old hobbit's door do you?" a ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "Good-bye!" and he shut the door. Madoc stood there, looking at it, wondering whether he should knock again. Then he reasoned that the door probably wouldn't open again. So he took the old hobbit's advice and turned away.
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