Gilly
Gilly was more cheerful than she had been in quite a long time, with the threat of Naiore overshadowed by the prospect of spending a few days in Imladris, of which she had heard a good many fine things. It was tempting to feel as though this bizarre adventure was shortly coming to an end. Surely Mr. Kaldir wouldn’t insist on Miss Benia’s accompanying him any longer only to hand her over to some wretched stranger who meant her harm. She could no longer believe it of him. Though in truth, he seemed quite loath to leave her at all. And since Mr. Dúlrain had joined their little group, Gilly had noticed a certain introspective quality overtake him as he watched her friend tend to the injured ranger. He was looking less like a wolf, than one of the more alert patrons of the Green Dragon who sitting alone by the hearth, enjoying a bit of Old Toby was taking in the unfolding events around him. Though he was by no means off his guard, and the hobbit would swear he still slept with one eye open, and both ears for that matter. It sent a chill though her as she recalled the nature of their initial acquaintance.
Mr. Dúlrain too seemed as contented as could be expected, and had taken the last five long days quite stoically, giving no complaints, though at rare times he hesitated, as though his pain had found him again. But at least he had the distraction of three others to pass the time until he could take a proper rest. And at least she liked to think that she might be of service in that regard as she had racked her brains for the more obscure and interesting tales she thought suitable for a ranger. Oh how she wished she had paid more attention to the ramblings of her oldest relations in those hot summer evenings when she found frogs and fireflies by far more interesting than their frightening tales of wolves! It would have stood her well now.
Finally setting herself down after the camp had been established and all was in order, she timidly ventured to ask the question that had been on her mind since she first found that they were heading for the Last Homely House. “Do you suppose,” she began in a meek voice addressing no one in particular, “that one might be able to send a message from Imladris to say Archet or Bywater?”
“I should think so,” Dúlrain said gently, astutely guessing where the hobbit’s thoughts led. “Certainly to Archet if not as far as Bywater, though from what I hear they have a high regard for hobbits in Rivendell and may find away to pass a message on as far as the Shire.”
“Oh that would be good then,” Gilly said smiling. “Poor Carl must be beside himself, and the children….” She trailed off looking down at the ground.
“Now Gilly, Carl knows you well enough after this many years to know that you would not abandon your family on your own account,” Miss Nightshade offered.
“I know, I know,” the hobbit said quickly. “But they no doubt think me dead or worse. And if I don’t at least get word to them I shall wish I were, once Mother Banks gets hold of me! And to be truthful, I don’t wish that they should grieve me as gone when I’m living yet. There’s something spooky in it, and it is too cruel to let them think it. So I should like to send word to them…if I may, that is,” she added looking toward Kaldir who nodded in her direction saying, “Yes, it would be good to send word for your own sake and theirs. Surely it would reach Bywater, though I do not know what lay in store for us in Imladris or how soon such a message could be sent, for I believe a storm might be brewing”
Gilly looked up at the clear, but darkening sky saying quite happily, “Then I shall send it as soon as we reach there and before the foul weather sets in, for I am composing it even now and shall have it finished before we arrive.”
Benia looked at Kaldir concerned, with her deep amber eyes catching the somber expression he wore as he looked away, once again silent behind the wall of his own thought.
|