[Orual]

Ravion's stomach turned and his wrathful eyes filled with tears as the horrible image of Gwyllion refused to fade from his mind. This wretched elf, if elf he truly was, knew exactly how to twist the knife so as to cause the most pain. It was his fault that Gwyllion had come along. He should have left Aeron back in Gondor--he was only a boy, not suited for dangerous travels. And Gwyllion, poor little moonstruck Gwyllion, so innocent and still so perceptive...all of this pain, it was his fault. It was because of him that she would never walk again. It was because of him that all of these ills had befallen her...and Mellonin...

One tear spilled down his cheek, cutting a streak in the dirt and grime that matted his beard and covered his face. He closed his eyes fiercely, but Gwyllion's mangled leg dwelled in his mind still. It took all of his willpower, all of his Ranger's training, not to let out a tortured sob. He could not have been more anguished had it been his own leg missing, his own face sliced. He had led these girls only to pain, torture, and it was not impossible to imagine that death was imminent in their futures.

And now Raefindan's resolute back was facing him as he went toward his own fate. What was this? This red-haired man, so new to battle, so untrained and untested, walking proudly to save his companions while Ravion, Ranger that he was, stayed behind, frightened and weeping?

His father would be ashamed.

Ravion clutched the necklace that hung around his throat, feeling his father's name engraved on the back. The touch that had brought him so much comfort now burned him like a poker. What was he to do? If Gwyllion and Mellonin were to be returned, someone would have to care for them. More tears spilled over. But how would he ever be able to look Gwyllion in the eye again? Could he ask forgiveness this time, and at all expect it to be granted him? His companions had been too gracious to him. He was a traitor, a coward, a wretch, no better than Tharonwe...

"Ravion." Erundil's gentle voice broke into Ravion's thoughts. "You blame yourself," the older Ranger said quietly.

"Yes," replied Ravion simply.

"Do not so. We cannot see all possible ends to our actions. You thought to do good, I am sure, and good may yet come out of your actions."

Ravion laughed bitterly. "You can explain that to Gwyllion, if we ever see her again."

"It is not your fault," Erundil insisted.

"I am to blame!"

"You could not have known."

"I should have guessed! I should have assumed! I should not have brought children on a mission such as this. I should not..." Ravion broke off, and, kneeling on the ground and doubled over, allowed the sobs that had been threatening him wrack his body.