Travellers
Minas Tirith was so fair, and the Rohrrim so merry, and Rivendell sweet though sad; we celebrated their Birthday, thinking there was no hurry. But now the Shire looks like a land conquered, and my parents look fifteen years older. I had to let Pippin go without me into danger once more, and Sam's faithful heart broke again at the Party Tree, and the quenched light in Frodo's eyes... after everything, all I wanted for him was to come home, and he couldn't even have that.
None of us could.
We ought to have hurried.