Rise (Lord of the Rings)

20 - We Lose a Dear Friend

What I saw couldn't have just happened.

I felt like time had slowed down. Frodo's agonized cry was loud and dragged out. I stared at the remaining half of the bridge, waiting for Gandalf to reappear so that he could rejoin us and run with us out of the mines.

He can't be...he can't...

I didn't react as I know I could have. I didn't scream Gandalf's name, or utter a wordless scream. All I did was ignore my dangerous surroundings, replaying the harsh blow in my head over and over again.

The only thing that snapped me out of my thoughts was a sharp pain in my left arm. I hissed, pulling myself back to reality. My mouth gaped in horror, seeing an arrow protruding from my arm.

I gasped as I was heaved over Aragorn's shoulder. I guess it was better that way, I doubted I could move away from that stairwell. I'd still be there as arrows flew and tried to kill me, all while waiting for Gandalf to rise from the darkness underneath the bridge.

I never struggled against Aragorn as he lugged us both out of the mines.

I had never seen death firsthand like this before. What Frodo had gone through back in Balin's tomb had been a false alarm. What had happened to Gandalf was real, all real. He wasn't coming back from this.

I wasn't excited to feel the burst of fresh air welcome us back. I stared out at the tunnel of the mines, the very place I now called Hell. It was full of monsters and murderers, and how could I forget death?

When Aragorn had finally slowed to a stop, he set me down on my feet. It was like I had blinders on; I kept staring at the tunnel of the mines. I wasn't oblivious to the others' reactions despite my narrowed vision. I took my eyes off of the tunnel to see Gimli try to go back into the mines, but Boromir held him back. Merry was comforting Pippin, though I doubted he was doing much, considering his whole body was trembling. I could hear those two and Sam weeping.

Why wasn't I crying?

I plopped down onto the rocky, somewhat snow-covered ground. I stared blankly into the tunnel, listening to the mourning from the others. I noticed that Legolas looked like he was astonished, like he didn't believe something like this could happen.

None of us wanted to believe it.

I closed my eyes, trying to deal with the bundle of muddled emotions within me. I felt angry, sad, frightened, and guilty. It was hard to tell which was dominating at the moment; they all seemed to combine into one sloppy emotion that had no name. Those all were overtaken by shock.

"Legolas." Aragorn's voice snapped me partially out of my stupor. "Get them up."

In such a horrible time, he wanted us up and moving? Didn't we deserve some time to take this all in, to accept the fact that we lost a member of our group just now?

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir snapped.

I curled into a ball, my body shaking from...what? Fear? Anger? Guilt? Shock? It was hard to tell.

"By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs," Aragorn retorted. "We must reach the woods of Lothlórien. Come, Boromir. Legolas. Gimli, get them up."

It was like I had become invisible to the others. They all walked past me, as if I was nothing. I hugged myself tighter into the ball I made my body curve into. My mind kept torturing me, replaying Gandalf's last moments, even going further back, replaying the events in Balin's tomb.