"He's dying, Sam."

Sam sat, slowly. “But he looks well to me.”

“He hides it, but every year it gets worse, and he's not feeling well, even when the spells don't have him.”

Sam swallowed around a lump in his throat. “When do you think he'll go?”

“I'm not sure, Sam. But I'll be going with him. I do love him so.”

Sam bit back tears. “I reckon I knew that, Pip.”

“You'll be making your own journey soon, Sam.”

“Aye, I will.” Sam smiled. In an eye's blink, Pippin thought he saw a faint light shining from within Sam.


Catherine