The thought had been bothering Edwen for hours before he finally spoke it aloud.
They had made camp on a narrow shelf of stone, the Misty Mountains looming ahead of them like broken teeth. The fire was small and shielded, more warmth than light. Most of the Company slept, exhausted from days of hard travel and harder revelations.
Bilbo did not sleep, and neither did Edwen.
Gandalf stood apart, staff resting against his shoulder, watching the night as though it might answer him if he stared long enough.
Edwen broke the quiet.
"Why are we pretending the Eagles don't exist?"
Gandalf did not turn. "Because pretending is easier than explaining."
Bilbo looked up sharply. "The Eagles?"
"They can fly from one end of Middle-earth to the other," Edwen said evenly. "They already pulled us out of the mountains. If speed matters, and it does, then ignoring that option makes no sense."
Gandalf turned then, fixing him with a measured look.
"And flying straight into Mordor would make even less."
"I'm not suggesting that," Edwen replied at once.
Bilbo frowned. "Then what are you suggesting?"
Edwen gestured vaguely eastward, toward lands none of them could see.
"Distance without attention. A head starts without a tail."
Gandalf's eyes narrowed slightly. "Explain."
"Sauron watches roads. Rivers. Passes. Borders," Edwen said. "He watches armies and messengers and anything that moves the way people expect it to move. He watches the sky over Mordor."
Bilbo shifted uneasily. "And the Eagles?"
Edwen continued. "Ask them to carry us far east and south, into land so empty and broken that no one bothers to look at it twice. Somewhere no army would march, and no spy would wait."
Bilbo swallowed. "You want us to walk the rest of the way."
"Yes."
Silence stretched.
Then Gandalf let out a slow breath.
"That is… unfortunately sensible."
Bilbo stared at them both. "Unfortunately?"
"You would be miserable," Gandalf said kindly. "And alive longer than expected."
Edwen met Bilbo's eyes. "The Ring draws attention. The longer it stays near roads and people, the worse it will get. This way, the trail goes cold before anyone knows it existed."
Bilbo hesitated. "And… who is 'us'?"
Edwen didn't look away. "You and me."
Gandalf studied him carefully. "You understand what you're volunteering for."
"I do."
"You may not come back."
Edwen nodded once. "I know."
Bilbo opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. He didn't know what to say. Part of him wanted to protest. Another part, quiet, uncomfortable, and growing stronger by the day, felt relief.
Gandalf was quiet for a long moment.
Then he said, "The Eagles will not like this."
"I won't ask them to fight," Edwen replied. "Only to fly."
They called the Eagles at dawn.
Gandalf's voice carried into the thin morning air, rising and falling in a cadence older than language. The mountains answered with echoes.
Bilbo looked up as massive shapes circled above them, wings catching the light. The wind of their passing flattened the grass and sent ash from the fire spiraling.
One descended to a nearby outcrop, talons scraping stone.
"You ask again, Mithrandir," the Eagle said. "And this time, the request smells of shadow."
Gandalf inclined his head. "I ask only for distance. Not for war."
The Eagle's gaze moved to Bilbo.
Then to Edwen.
Bilbo felt his pocket grow heavy.
The farewell was brief. Thorin clasped Bilbo's shoulder once, hard.
"Come back alive," he said gruffly.
Bilbo nodded, unable to speak.
The lift into the air stole his breath. The ground fell away. Mountains shrank. The world stretched wide and empty beneath them.
They flew for hours.
Hours later, green faded into brown, then brown into gray. The air grew thin, sharp, tasting faintly of ash.
At last, the Eagles descended.
They set Bilbo and Edwen down amid broken stone and lifeless earth, where nothing grew, and the wind carried no scent of water or leaf.
"This is as far as we go," the Eagle said. "Beyond this, the sky is watched."
Edwen bowed. "You've done more than we had a right to ask."
The Eagles did not linger.
When the wind settled, silence pressed in.
Bilbo stood very still.
"This place feels wrong," he said quietly.
Edwen looked east, toward a dark line on the horizon where the land seemed to bruise itself against the sky.
"That's why we're here," he replied.
Bilbo's hand drifted to his pocket.
The Ring felt heavier than ever.
They did not talk about courage or talk about endings.
They turned away from the sky and started to walk to Mordoor.