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Summary: It's hard to say good-bye, and even harder to wait for returning feet...(a drabble)
THE LONG WAIT BEGINS
It was the same large window, facing south, at which the old hobbit had stood, from dawn to dusk, for the last five days. If food was brought, he would eat, but he did not leave to seek his meals.
Sometimes an Elf would come and stand by him companionably, but he did not speak.
Today the sunset lent a glow to the frosty vista, and he shivered pulling his jacket close.
He felt a warm, slender hand upon his shoulder.
Tears sprang to his eyes. "It's Yule."
"I know, my friend," said Arwen, a catch in her own voice.
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