Author's Note: A bit of a change in tone tonight!

Flames.

They think that I do not know. My father went mad and burned himself to death on a pyre. They think that I do not remember lying there, burning with fever, knowing that he was going to kill me at last. Sometimes, late at night when I am alone, I look into the fire’s dancing flames and here his voice. “You will not take my son from me!” It is too late, though, isn’t it, Father? You yourself sent me away, years ago. The hobbit, Pippin, avoids talking about it, but I know it was he who saved my life, and for that, I am forever in his debt.
And yet, I cannot bear to look into the flames.